home. Go home before I got hurt.”
“When?”
“Just before Hornet took off. He frightened her. I don’t think she’d have run, otherwise.”
He frowned. “Damn…”
“You didn’t see him?”
“Not a soul. ”
“What about the engine we heard?” I remembered that distinctly.
“Nothing.”
I stiffened on the horse. “Nothing!”
He prodded Sunny onward again with his boot heels, face averted as he turned back. “I found nothing. Or no one, at least. Some tracks, probably made by a four-wheel-drive. But no people.” He said nothing a moment. “Probably just a Forest Service vehicle.”
My bottom lip was swelling. I tongued it, tasted the salty, coppery taste of blood and wondered what he had thought just before he kissed me. And afterward, when he had sounded so annoyed. “The man I saw,” I told him clearly, “was definitely not a forest ranger. No uniform. No nothing. Just a warning.”
Harper’s shoulders looked solid as rock, and twice as stiff. He shook his head a little, but I couldn’t see his face. “Damn,” he said again. “That makes four.”
“Four what?”
“Four ‘accidents,’ for lack of a better word.”
I counted in my head, recalling Preacher’s brief disappearance, the barn fire, and my unexpected warning. “What’s the fourth?”
“Two horses were shot a few days before you came. Killed.”
“Harper—”
“Hang on, ” he interrupted conversationally, as if he’d forgotten what he had just said. “The trail gets rougher here.” Sunny’s rump bunched and dipped as he negotiated a twisting stair-step formation of rock and earth. I hurt badly enough already, and the motion of sleek horseflesh sliding beneath my jeans nearly unseated me entirely. I made a wild grab at Harper, caught him, and held on with both arms.
I felt his soft laughter. “About time,” he remarked.
I nearly let go. But it wasn’t worth it. I slumped, too tired to do the work myself, and let his comforting back hold me up. I wanted a drink, hot shower and bed. In that order.
Harper helped me down from his horse and half-led, half-pushed me into the Lodge. I protested feebly but was ignored as he escorted me to the couch before the fireplace and sat me down. There he fixed me a drink—brandy—and watched me take the first swallow. The liquid sloshed in the snifter as my hands insisted on shaking.
“Thanks for rescuing me,” I said on a sigh of exhaustion. The veil, which had been missing, dropped over his eyes once more. “Any time.”
“Maybe you’d better go see about finding Hornet.”
“I don’t doubt the mare’s here. Probably got home some time ago.”
“Then maybe you should go see if she’s okay.”
The moustache twitched. “Maybe I should.”
I stirred. “I’d like to know,” I told him. “How she is. She might have hurt herself.”
He watched me a moment longer. “I’m sorry,” he said obscurely, and was gone.
I sank back against the couch, letting my head tip back to rest against it. I knew the exhaustion was the aftermath of shock; the shakes would go away shortly, especially with the brandy flooding my system. I closed my eyes.
I heard the screen door stretch open again, wondering idly if Harper was back that soon, then heard the quiet footsteps on the wooden floor. Whoever it was didn’t wear boots. “Kelly!”
It was Brandon. I lifted my head and saw him cross the floor in about two strides. “I just heard. Are you all right?”
I displayed the brandy. “I will be.”
He stood over me a moment, rigid with concern, then carefully sat down beside me. A big hand reached out and steadied the glass. “The horse came back without you.”
An illogical bubble of laughter burst inside. “We simply decided to part company.” I smiled. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“You look a mess,” he said, not unkindly. “Not much like the Kelly Clayton most people know.”
His weight on the couch tipped me against his shoulder. It was not unpleasing, and he provided a big, safe headrest. “The Kelly Clayton most people know is not the real me,” I said, feeling drowsy. “Actually, I prefer dirt.” Then I straightened. “Brandon, we’d better go check on the horse. It wasn’t her fault. Come on.”
“She didn’t throw you?” he asked in surprise.
“No, and I didn’t fall off, either.” I scowled at him. “I jumped.”
Brandon took the brandy snifter from my hand. “If you’ve decided to start jumping off horses, you don’t need any more brandy. You need your head examined.”
“Oh, it’s a little banged up, but it’s in one piece.” I felt at the back of my skull. “Come on.”
We went down to the pens. Nathan was