What could they possibly do to escape?

They were too far from Del’s cabin. She knew that, but she kept on putting one foot in front of the other and pushing herself up the trail.

Samantha ran behind her, beyond exhaustion, choking on her fear, broken sobs catching in her throat. Her legs were rubber beneath her. She wanted nothing more than to lie down in a ball and have the nightmare be over, but it went on and on. She wanted to be held and comforted. She wanted Will. Stupid to think of him now. Stupid to want him when he didn’t want her.

They broke out of the woods onto the edge of a meadow. Mari stopped and stood bent over with her hands on her knees, her lungs working like a pair of bellows. The wind had come up and the tall grass rippled and waved, the shades of green altering with every movement the way velvet looks when a hand draws across it. The rain came a little harder. She recognized the place with a sense of doom. This was where Lucy had met her end. Karma. The skin at the base of her neck tingled.

They were both as good as dead. Sharon was after Samantha for reasons known only to her own insane mind, but Mari knew she would not discriminate when it came to doling out the bullets. She wouldn’t leave a witness.

Sam sank down into the grass, pressing the heels of her purple hands against her eyes, crying soundlessly. Mari’s heart broke looking at her. The poor kid. Bryce had sucked her into his world for his own purposes and she had gone, no doubt overwhelmed by the fine things and the excitement and the celebrities. And Bryce’s people had taken her in and used her and abused her without a thought to her innocence.

Goddamn him. Goddamn the lot of them. How dare they come here and poison this place. The anger that burned through her was proprietary, territorial. Mari didn’t question it. There wasn’t time.

The sound of the dogs breaking through the brush some distance back in the woods pushed her upright.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s haul ass.”

“I can’t,” Samantha sobbed, facedown on the ground. She already looked like a corpse, bloody and dirty, her limbs bent at odd angles.

Mari wanted to lie down beside her and offer comfort, but comfort would likely get them killed sooner than later. She grabbed the girl by the jacket collar and pulled her up to her knees.

“You damn well better!” she barked. Del’s place was still a long hike up some steep and rugged ground. The only chance they had of making it was if they kept moving and Sharon prolonged the hunt.

The crack of rifle fire dispelled the second possibility. The bullet slammed into the same tree stump Del had struck the first day Mari had ridden up here. Rotted wood splintered in all directions. Sam screamed, doubling over as if the bullet had passed through her. She pressed her hands over her ears and screamed again. Mari shoved her roughly toward the cover on the hillside, yelling, “Go! Go! Go!” and pushing the girl onward and upward.

From the deep cover of the woods behind them, the eerie sound of laughter floated through the rain, and Mari’s blood ran like ice in her veins.

God help them. They were both as good as dead.

I’LL KILL HER.

Will braced himself on the passenger side of J.D.’s truck with one hand on the dash and one on the door. Explosions of pain went off inside him with every bump and jerk of the truck as it roared up the old logging trail. The fire in his ribs and back and head served only to temper his fury into something as rigid and sharp as a steel blade. Images of the tale Orvis had told kept flashing behind his eyeballs. Sam tied up. Bryce’s bitch cousin touching her. His vision misted red. He felt as though a wild animal were in his chest, fighting to get out.

“I’ll kill her,” he snarled for the tenth time. “If she hurts Sam, I swear, I’ll fucking kill her.”

J.D. shot him a look across the cab. “There’s no chance Sam’s there by choice?” he asked carefully. The question left a bad taste in his mouth.

Will gaped at him, looking like a maniac with his battered face and bugging eyes. “If you weren’t driving, I’d beat the shit out of you for that! Jesus, J.D., you know Sam better than that!”

“I know she dumped you to hang out with Bryce’s crowd.”

“Bryce seduced her, that son of a bitch.” The truck lurched over a mass of exposed tree roots, and he hissed through his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then picked up with his threats. “I oughta kill him too.”

J.D. shifted down and gunned the engine. The old Ford screamed up a steep incline, back end sliding sideways. The headlights punched into the gloom of the fading day. Overhead, the sky had turned the color of gunmetal and lightning broke across it in brilliant spider-web lines. He prayed they would make Del’s camp before the deluge came. The old trail only grew steeper and rougher the higher they went. Rain had the same effect as pouring grease down the ruts.

They had agreed the best and quickest route to Bryce’s cabin north of Five-Mile Creek was to drive to the summer cow camp and take horses down across Red Bear Basin and over the Forest Service land to Bryce’s neck of the woods. J.D. didn’t think Will was in any shape to ride, but he didn’t want to waste time going the long way around if Sam was in danger.

He stole a glance at his brother out the corners of his eyes and hurt for him. Love-’em-and-leave-’em Will, ever the good-time cowboy, not a care in the world, was frantic with worry, torn up with guilt. It didn’t matter that he expected Samantha to divorce him. He loved her. That was plain enough. Loved her enough to rip limb from limb anyone who might hurt her. J.D. had never thought Will capable of feelings that deep, that unselfish.

And what about you, J.D.?

He negotiated the truck around a curve where the shoulder of the hillside dropped eighty feet almost straight down. The needle on the truck’s tachometer was swinging wildly upward toward the red zone. The engine roared. A warning light was glowing red on the dash, and a hot smell rolled out of the air-conditioning vents. The odometer showed 153,189 miles. The trail disappeared over yet another crest. He held his breath and punched the accelerator.

The Ford jumped to meet the challenge, lunging for the hilltop. At the same instant, over the crest of the rise came Mary Lee’s mule. There was no time to react. The mule was flying, long ears back, reins blowing behind him like streamers. He twisted in midair, trying to avoid the truck, but it was too late. They collided with a sickening thump. His front feet skidded up the hood. The cattle guard over the grill caught him in the ribs, and his whole body came up onto the hood, threatening to crash through the windshield. But he slid off on the driver’s side as he scrambled in panic, eyes rolling white in his big ugly head.

J.D. swore and slammed the brakes. Every molecule of his body was trembling as he jumped out of the cab and ran for the mule. Clyde had landed heavily on his side, wedged up against the trunk of a fallen tamarack. He thrashed wildly, trying to stand. J.D. caught hold of one rein just as the mule got his feet under him and surged upward.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy, fella.” J.D. spoke softly, but he couldn’t keep the urgency from his voice. The mule rolled an eye at him and danced in place. His hide was slick with sweat and flecked with lather. His muscles quivered as if an electric current were running through him. The cattle guard had opened a gash in his right side, ugly but not life-threatening. His legs were all intact.

“He all right?” Will demanded as he tried to jog over from the truck. He had pulled a catch rope off the gun rack. His knuckles were white as his hand squeezed around it.

“Doesn’t look like he broke anything,” J.D. mumbled. His attention was less on the mule than on the mule’s empty saddle.