Chapter 25
Vince aimed his rifle toward the ranch house and peered through the high-powered scope. He wished he had a better view of the back patio.
His pulse kicked up a notch as he zeroed in on a woman with long, dark hair leaving the house.Is it Dr. Anderson?No. It couldn’t be. The woman he wanted had two casts.
This woman, with a holstered handgun on her hip, walked with long purposeful strides toward a fence. A horse trotted over and nuzzled her shoulder in response to her whistle.
He heard the whistle because the breeze carried it his direction, just as it carried his scent away from the ranch house. If it hadn’t been working in his favor, the dogs who’d nipped at his heels the other night would have caught his scent hours ago.
He lowered the gun when the woman entered the stable. Shifting, he attempted to find a more comfortable position on his perch in a cottonwood tree. In the last four hours, he’d tried every position possible in this tree and others within the copse of trees a hundred and fifty yards from the ranch house. This one afforded the best view, but he wasn’t sure how long he could last up here.
He’d been here since before sunup and grown increasingly more discouraged over the hours. Every ranch hand he’d spotted carried a gun. Between the dogs and the guard, posted by the front gate at night, it was impossible to get close to his target.
He contemplated grabbing the woman who now saddled a horse. He could hold her ransom for Dr. Anderson. But he wasn’t prepared to take her right now. He had no disguise to hide his identity. The last thing he needed was another witness. Nor did he have the drugs with him to immobilize her. Judging by the gun on her hip and the confidence with which she saddled her horse, she’d be a fighter.
He watched through the scope, his spirits sinking deeper, as she climbed on her horse and galloped away in the opposite direction.
* * *
Emily turnedthe page of the book she’d been reading for the past hour then immediately turned it back when she realized she had no clue what she’d just read. Faith had recommended the novel to take her mind off things.
It wasn’t working.
She couldn’t stop thinking about her final conversation with her brother. She played his words over and over in her mind, trying to remember something she might have missed. Something that would give her a clue concerning the key.
It’s futile.
The harder she thought the more her head hurt, and the more her head hurt the darker her mood became. She wanted to get outside and go for a brisk walk.
This stupid cast!
She’d been jealous when Riley, who looked like a taller, darker-haired version of her mother, had packed a lunch, and announced she was taking a long ride. Before walking out the door, she’d talked to Faith. “By the way, I’m going out to dinner with friends this evening.”
“You should invite Daniel to join you,” Faith had said. “He doesn’t leave the ranch much.”
“I did. He said he has guard duty again this evening. To tell you the truth, I was relieved. I mean it would be awkward, don’t you think?”
“It’s hard to go back to being friends when you’ve been more, isn’t it?” Faith gave her a comforting hug.
Riley nodded, then she was gone, and Emily wished she could go with her. She would’ve loved to ride a horse and visit with Riley. She had a feeling Jake’s sister was having as hard of time over the break-up as Daniel was.
Riley’s gaze had strayed to Daniel during breakfast almost as much as his had drifted to her.
Emily recalled the comments Riley made after visiting with Daniel yesterday afternoon. “Something is different about him. He’s changed.”
“What do you mean?” Faith asked.
Riley shrugged. “I asked him how he broke his leg, and all he said was he wrecked a motorcycle. Daniel has been riding dirt bikes and four-wheelers since he was four. I don’t understand how he wrecked a motorcycle.”
Faith and Riley had gone on to speculate whether Daniel had been dating someone in Portland, and Emily wondered if Daniel and Riley would ever be close enough again for him to feel comfortable telling her what he’d been through.
Riley had left hours ago, and Emily was going crazy.
She jumped at the sound of the mudroom door slamming. “Mom!”
It was Jake, and there was a tension in his voice that said something was wrong. Very wrong. Faith sat aside her crocheting and stood, but Jake burst through the swinging door carrying a first aid kit and a dish towel in one hand. He held a bloody handkerchief to his brow with the other.
“Jake,” Faith gasped. “What happened?”
