by Jill Sanders
Chase knew he was pushing Buster too hard. The horse wasn't that old, but any horse would have a hard time at full speed through the hills.
It had taken them three hours at a walk to get to the spot where they’d had lunch and another four to get to the cabin. He was determined to make it in under half that time.
He reached the clearing by the stream in just under an hour and a half. He stopped quickly and noticed Lauren's thermal lunch bag. Dismounting, he rushed over and grabbed it up, then scanned the darkness. Damn, it was too dark. Grabbing the box, he opened it and put on the night-vision goggles and looked around for a clue.
It was on his second scan that he noticed the large chunk ripped out of the tree just above his head. He looked at the ground, but couldn't see if there was any blood. Kneeling, he checked the ground, but his hand came away dry. Then he spotted something glistening off a rock a few feet away. Walking over, he touched the wetness and checked. His hand came back with red streaks.
Standing up, he screamed her name over and over. It looked more and more like she'd been thrown from Tanner and bumped her head on the rock. Where would she be? Where would she go if she was disoriented? The cabin. Could she have walked that far this quickly?” He jumped up on Buster's back and speed dialed Alex as he rode, catching her up on what he'd found.
About an hour and a half later, he smelled the fire. He knew Buster was at his limit, but he pushed the horse a little harder and made it the rest of the way in under ten minutes.
When he pulled up to the cabin, the entire place was engulfed in flames. He knew, somehow, that Lauren was inside.
