by Laura Scott
“We’re just driving past the Funeral Mountains.” Mara’s voice was cool, in spite of the faint Southern drawl. Never could hide her feelings. She was upset with him for inviting her brother, Seth, to partner with him in purchasing the Rocking Horse Ranch. Maybe she had a right to be. A busted-up old ranch just outside Death Valley National Park, a place so hot it was nearly uninhabitable four months of the year? Not exactly a surefire moneymaker. But it wasn’t really about the money—not for him, anyway. He was surprised Mara had even agreed to accompany Seth to meet the mare. Maybe Mara was softening to the idea? Not likely.
“Be careful,” he said. “Road’s steep. I’ll meet you at the farm and introduce you to Cookie. She’s a sweetheart.” Offered for sale by a local, the mare would be a perfect fit for their current herd of eleven if co-owner Seth approved. They needed more horses pronto to meet the tourist demands for the November Camp Town Days Festival the following week.
There was a pause. “All right.”
He forced cheer into his voice to counteract her lack of enthusiasm. “Laney and Beckett are having a barbecue at the Hotsprings. They asked me to invite you both.” His cousin Beckett’s hotel was making a slow recovery after the set of killings that had resulted in Beckett’s false imprisonment and a threat to Laney’s life. It was easier to forget those days now, as the couple prepared for the spring birth of their first child.
Mara queried her brother and returned her attention to the phone. “Seth says he’d love to go, but I have some business to work on.”
Business? Mara helped run her parents’ furniture store in Henderson, Nevada, some two hundred miles away. Odd that she’d have business here in podunk Furnace Falls. It wasn’t his nature to pry. Then again, she might just be making an excuse to stay far away from him. He blew out a silent breath. Horses were so much easier to read than people, especially women, most especially Mara Castillo.
The pause lingered as he tried to figure out what to say next. The shiver went through him, that strange combination of fascination and bewilderment that raven-haired Mara awakened in him ever since he’d met her in high-school keyboarding class. He’d flunked the typing part, but he sure had spent plenty of time wondering what Mara was thinking in that seat in front of him, her hair dark as the nighttime desert sky.
Mara cut through his thoughts. “See you soon, then.”
Face to face he would have answered with a silent nod. “Can’t wait.” Can’t wait? Way to sound like a sappy teen instead of a savvy ranch owner. He was still fighting with his tongue to dredge up something articulate when she cut him off.
“Be there in a half hour.”
He almost smiled at her annoyed tone. Mara had always worn her heart on her sleeve. There was no pretense about her. He’d finally worked up the courage his senior year to ask her to the school dance.
She’d laughed. “I don’t want to cram into a gym and listen to loud music and drink watery punch. How about we go fishing instead?”
They had, and Levi had developed an undeniable crush on his best friend’s tomboy sister. He blinked, realizing she’d already disconnected. He’d have to do better than that to prove to her he was a competent business partner for her brother. It was a tall order. The saddlery he’d opened after his return to civilian life had gone belly-up, in spite of regular help from Seth when he could get away from his contracting job in Nevada. Seth would do anything for Levi, even follow him into enlisting when her family needed him most. A breeze blew across Levi’s face, carrying the scent of hard-packed earth and sunshine.
November temperatures were the most palatable of the whole year. Death Valley, the hottest location in North America, cooled somewhat in the fall, making it prime tourist season. The town was abuzz with preparations for Camp Town Days which would feature reenactments of the famous 20 Mule Team journeys. The wagon teams would start in town and roll their way across Furnace Falls to a campsite on the outskirts of town where they could stay to enjoy the vendor displays and plenty of old-fashioned fun. Tourists would need horses and guides, tours of the Keane Wonder Mine and wagon rides into Death Valley National Park. He and Seth would be ready to meet the need especially if they could acquire another even-tempered mare to add to the Rocking Horse family.
The miles passed quickly as he drove to Hank’s property which was at the bottom of a perilously pitched road. So pitched, in fact, that if they purchased the animal he’d have to ride the mare up to the flat plateau above, since they could not get a trailer down the grade.
Riding the brakes, he made it to the bottom and parked on the graveled drive that led to Hank’s house and barn. A rumble indicated an approaching vehicle, but the sound was too high and thin for a car engine. Banjo stared out the open window, nose twitching, an agitated whine escaping his fleshy lips. A motorcycle, he decided. Someone visiting Hank’s farm...but minutes passed without any sign of an approach. He peered upward where the road wound in and out of sight amid the foothills. Weird... Again, unease tightened his stomach.
But there was nothing wrong, nothing at all. He tried to shake off the feeling. Probably just out of sorts because he’d forgotten to eat lunch. Again.
The glove box of his pickup supplied a half-melted granola bar which he ate, window rolled down. He tossed the last bite to Banjo who swallowed it without even chewing.
Levi figured maybe his agitation was born of his eagerness to return to the ranch. It didn’t matter what the naysayers said about the Rocking Horse: it was a paradise to him. Every rusted bolt and warped fence post was part of a dream he’d had since he was four years old visiting his uncle’s barn. Cookie the mare was just one more step toward the life he was meant to live in the most fantastic place on earth.
Banjo barked. The mysterious motorcyclist? Still Levi could not spot anything. Odd.
He heard the rumble of what had to be Seth’s SUV. A glimpse of bright yellow paint proved him right. He shifted at the thought of seeing Mara. Seth was always the genial, happy-go-lucky guy who reminded Levi of his own brother, Austin. His sister was another breed altogether.
As the vehicle made the hairpin turn and began to inch down the slope, Seth stuck an arm out the window and waved. Levi waved back, grinning.
A sound sliced through the afternoon. His body recognized it before his brain did, and he reflexively ducked. A shot.
A hunter? On private property? Shooting what, birds? The thoughts tumbled as he looked wildly for the source. Banjo began to bark in a frantic, throaty cascade. Was it the motorcyclist he’d heard before? He scanned the foothills, trying to quiet the dog.
A second shot followed the first.
Seth’s SUV’s windshield shattered. It began to slide to the side of the road.
“No,” he yelled in horror.
The car was a blur of yellow, the tires squealing as they labored to keep the vehicle upright. Sun glittered off the broken glass as it turned over and rolled again and again.
* * *
Mara was too shocked to scream. A moment before, her brother had finally been opening up about what had happened with his fiancée.
“Tanya made it clear, sis. She found another guy. Funny thing is, I still love her, you know? I want a fresh start, a new way of living. I can have that on the ranch.”
The reply was still on her lips when something punched through the front window, raining chips of glass on her lap. At first she thought it might have been a rock. But how was that possible? A second missile followed, moments later. She felt Seth recoil. Had he been struck?
Out the spidered front window, she saw a man in profile, hat pulled down over his eyes, black bandanna covering his nose and mouth, a long wisp of beard trailing as he lowered a rifle. Then he stepped back into the scrub and disappeared.
“Seth—” she started, breaking off in horror as she saw the blood blooming on his shoulder, his neck, in his hair. He slumped over.
&nbs
p; Now the scream did emerge. “Seth!”
He didn’t answer, hands falling from the wheel. They began to careen downslope. Bright flashes of sunlight blinded her. Branches crackled as the vehicle plowed off the road into the scrub. She tried to brace herself against the dashboard with one hand and grab Seth’s arm to steady him, but the violent juddering tossed them like tumbleweeds. They would have been ejected through the fractured window if not for their seat belts.
A branch thrust through the side window, cutting into her neck. She shrank back before it sliced any deeper toward her carotid.
She thought she might have heard her brother groan. He was alive, he would be okay, she told herself. Again she tried to lean toward him, desperate and terrified, but she could not steady herself against the violent jostling. They bounced off a half-buried boulder sticking up from the ground. The impact set them on a new trajectory.
With a sudden jerk, the SUV flipped on its side. They could not continue their acceleration much longer. She knew the road bottomed out at the farm. Levi would be there, he’d probably already called for help. The car slowed, grinding over the gravel with a tortured squeal that left her teeth on edge.
The movement continued to ease off. She was able to catch sight of Levi charging up the slope, long legs flying. He came to an abrupt stop. She could not see his eyes from under the shadow of his cowboy hat but his mouth opened in a cry she could not hear. A hairy dog followed at his heels.
At the same moment, the SUV jounced over what must have been a ridge of rock and began once again to tumble out of control.
“Hang on,” she yelled to Seth. Small rocks and debris rained through the broken windows as they began to pick up speed again. They’d lose momentum soon, wouldn’t they? Levi was close. He’d get her brother out, call for an ambulance. It would all be okay.
Her attention was snagged by an object appearing before them. The upthrust arms of a Joshua tree loomed directly in their path. Its prickly trunk was sturdy as if it had been standing there defying the elements since long before she’d been born. She grabbed at the wheel, trying to divert their course. Too late.
She did not even have time to brace herself as the vehicle slammed into the tree with such force the airbags deployed. The breath was driven out of her. She was flung back against the seat. The airbag exploded like a smack to the face. Her vision was filled with white. Stunned, she could only sit there immobilized, struggling to breathe.
Slowly the bag began to deflate, inch by inch. It subsided enough that she could make sense of their situation. The car was on its side, driver’s door to the ground, front bumper crumpled against the Joshua tree. She was hanging upside down, tethered by her seat belt.
Panting, she tried to stop her brain from spinning. Dizziness made her feel sick to her stomach. Was she able to move? Was Seth? Was he alive? She jerked a panicked look down. Her long hair hung in a tousled mass around her face. Shoving it back, she reached over. The driver’s-side airbag completely hid him until it slowly began to deflate. Inch by inch, moment by moment. She could hardly stand it. Gradually his head came into view.
“Seth?” she whispered.
He was crumpled below her against the driver’s-side door, face turned away. The blood dripping from his curly hair filled her with terror. So much blood. Was this real? Was she in the grip of a heinous nightmare? Silently, she prayed as she tried to get hold of his hand. Her own hands were shaking so badly she could not seem to get them to move on command.
“Seth, please answer me. Say something,” she whispered.
“Mara.” Levi’s face swam into view, his navy blue eyes and shock of ginger hair blurred for a moment until she blinked. He scrambled around trying to reach the driver’s door to no avail. The front windshield was a mess of broken glass, rocks and the remnants of the airbags. Instead he climbed up to her passenger door and grunted as he heaved on it. Finally it gave way with a squeak of metal.
Another man, white-haired and stout, appeared at a run, probably the property owner. “Emergency is on its way,” he said. “They were over the hill at a call. They’ll be here in less than five minutes. What should I do?”
The voices faded in and out. A sense of unreality crowded rational thought. This was a bad dream. She would blink and wake up. Her brother would be knocking on her apartment door teasing her about sleeping late.
“If the sun had to wait for you to plug it in, we’d live in darkness,” he’d say.
They would go to their parents’ furniture store, and he would help with deliveries while she updated the website and assisted her mother on the floor. She would dust the family picture on the front desk, the one that showed the five of them, including Corinne before she’d run away. This was not, could not, be happening.
“Mara,” Levi said again, cutting through her fog. “How badly are you hurt? Can you tell me?”
“What?” She blinked again. “I think... I’m okay. But Seth is bleeding.”
“I’ll help him. I’m afraid to cut you loose in case you have internal injuries.”
“Go help Seth,” she said as loudly as she could. “Please, Levi.”
He pressed her hand and climbed out, crawling around to the driver’s side.
“Hey, buddy,” she heard Levi say. “It’s gonna be all right. Help’s coming.”
“Is he...?” she croaked.
“He’s alive. I just heard him groan.”
And that was all she needed to hear. The desert sun grew dim, and a buzzing sounded in her ears. The older man said, “I heard shooting. Is that what caused this?”
The bearded man had shot into their vehicle, twice.
It had not been an accident. He’d intended to kill.
Who was the man who’d fired the shot?
And why?
Levi’s body went suddenly taut, and he jerked a look beyond her. Then he threw himself in front of the passenger window just as she heard the sound of another shot embedding itself in the metal.
Copyright © 2021 by Dana Mentink
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ISBN-13: 9780369716101
Tracking Stolen Secrets
Copyright © 2021 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Laura Scott for her contribution to the Alaska K-9 Unit miniseries.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at [email protected].
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