EMMA AWOKE WITH A START, heart pounding, as thunder rolled and lightening flashed outside the window. She reached for Ty only to remember he was out there somewhere in the storm.

An unexpected sense of panic overwhelmed her. Throwing off the covers, she hurried to the window and looked out, expecting to see what caused her unease. The storm raged on as heavy sheets of rain pounded the ground, and gusty winds whipped limbs of the old oak trees around like blades of grass. She took a steadying breath. “It’s just the storm.”

Impending doom weighted her movements as she dressed and hurried downstairs. After checking on her father who slept soundly, she trudged to the kitchen, in dire need of strong coffee.

Edginess made it difficult to focus as she paced and waited for the brew to finish. The first sip burned her lips and tongue and she welcomed the bitter taste as it slid down her throat. The hands wrapped around the mug trembled as she took another drink, savoring the rush of calm the heady liquid provided as it raced through her veins.

Ready to tackle yesterday’s paperwork, she headed to the office. A drudge to some, she actually loved the mundane task of record keeping. Delving into the inner workings of the ranch, her ranch, gave her a great sense of pride. Today, it kept her from thinking about the gloom surrounding her and Ty being caught up the storm.

Lost in her work, time flew until Lupe’s soft voice brought her back to the present.

“Señora, do you wish me to take Señor Rafe’s breakfast to him?”

Emma glanced up then to the clock on the mantel. Eight o’clock? She pushed back from the desk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late. I’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later, she sat on the edge of the bed and watched her father eat slowly, the sense of dread stronger now than when she first woke.

“Some storm we had last night,” he said between bites of scrambled eggs and bacon.

“Yeah, woke me about five. Couldn’t get back to sleep so came down and did paperwork.” She rubbed her arms, trying to ward off a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

“What’s bothering you, girl?”

“It’s nothing, Papa. Just wondering how the drive is going, is all.”

“They should be well south the Oakman place if the weather didn’t stop ‘em.”

She nodded. “Ty said they made good time.”

“How do you know?” he asked with a smile, “you in to mind-reading?”

Cheeks on fire, she didn’t look at him. “Well, um, I took a ride last night down to that pretty spot beside the creek, the one with the big oaks on the East bank and met him there.” She jumped up and headed for the door. “Lupe will be back later for the tray. I need to check on things outside; make sure the storm didn’t do any damage.”

She didn’t miss the smile on her father’s face as she whirled and walked out.

Thankfully, the storm caused no major damage around the ranch grounds. Some broken limbs and mud being the primary issues. She spent the rest of the day tending to chores, cleaning up debris, and trying to shake the uneasiness plaguing her.

By late afternoon, exhausted and covered in mud, thoughts of a hot bath and some quiet time to think were uppermost in her mind.

Movement in her peripheral vison drew her gaze westward. Two riders approached, one holding the reins of another horse.

Diablo.

Emma grabbed the porch post as her knees threatened to fold, the sense of dread crashing down on her.

Henry Oakman dismounted, and handed the reins to Wally Kincaid who sat with his head bowed.

She watched him walk up the steps, read what he was going to say in the pained expression on his face, and shook her head. “No,” she whispered, “no.”

Henry took her arm and pulled her toward the front door, speaking to Wally over his shoulder. “Get him to the barn and get his wound taken care of.”

“Wound? What wound?” She turned toward the young man.

“Come inside, Emma,” said Henry kindly, “we need to talk.”

“What wound, Henry?” She swallowed hard and whispered. “Where’s Ty? What’s happened?” She bit her lip until it throbbed like her pulse.

He didn’t answer as he led the way down the hall to Rafe’s room. “I don’t want to do this twice.”

Rafe looked up when they entered, the smile dying on his face. “Emma…what’s going on?”

“I-I don’t know.” She looked at Henry.

He threw his hat toward the bed, pushing Emma in the chair beside it, and took a deep breath. “Wally came to the ranch this morning. Said one of the hands found Ty’s horse hobbling along near the rear of the herd. There was blood on the saddle and a wound on his flank.” He paused and looked at Rafe, then Emma. “It looks like maybe a bullet grazed him.”

“A bullet!” Emma jumped from her chair. “Is he hurt? Where the hell is he?”

Henry faced her, his eyes filled with compassion and sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Emma.”

“S-sorry? What do you mean, you’re sorry?” Her voice rose several degrees and she grabbed his arm. “Where is he?”

“They looked for hours…there was no trace of him.”

Rafe’s stern voice commanded attention. “What the hell happened, Henry?”

“I don’t honestly know, Rafe. When Wally got to the ranch, he said they couldn’t find him and asked me to send some boys to help search.” He looked back and forth between father and daughter. “We searched for two miles with no sign of him.”

Panic welled up inside her. “And you just gave up!”

“There was no sign of him, Emma. Nothing. We went up and down both sides of the creek for over two miles. The flash flood last night…” Henry didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to.

If Ty was wounded and ended up in the water…she clamped down on the thought, refusing to consider it. He’s alive. I know he is.

“You said Diablo had a bullet wound…what makes you think that?” She kept her voice steady, despite the fear crushing her heart.

“Wally said he thought he heard a shot. He dismissed it at first, thinking it was the storm, then he heard another.” Henry took a breath. “He headed for the sound and found the horse.” He paused a moment. “And he found Ty’s colt near the bank.”

“And no sign of Ty?”

“No. He looked, called out for him. When he got no answer, he went back to camp and roused the others. They started looking and sent a rider to my place for help. We spent the next four hours looking for him.”

Henry grabbed her arm as she turned for the door. “Where are you going?”

She jerked free. “To find my husband.”

“Emma, he –”

“No! He’s not dead! He’s not.” She bit her lip, fought for control. “I’d know if he was.” She looked at her friend, then her father. “My heart would know.”

An hour later, she stood beside Midnight, stowing provisions in her saddle bags.

“Emma, be reasonable.” Henry’s agitated voice showed his concern. “You can’t go off alone like this. Hell, it’s going to be dark before you get there. Give me time to get some men to go with you.”

She checked the saddle of the extra horse she would take. One way or another, she would bring Ty home.

“He’s out there and most likely hurt. I can’t wait any longer.” She patted the horse’s head and turned back to her own mount. Lupe stood on the porch, a rag-wrapped package in her hand. “Take care of Papa for me, please.”

“There are biscuits and ham in here along with some bacon.” She nodded toward another package José held. “There is medicine and other provisions in there.”

Emma placed the packs in the extra saddle bags before mounting her horse.

Wally rode up on a fresh mount. “I’ll show you where we found his horse, Ma’am.”

She nodded, turned west at a gallop.

I’m coming, Ty. I’m coming.