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Miffed, she considered heading down there right now and demanding to know why he hadn’t woke her to join him tonight. Then she caught the low nicker of a horse. The sound carried on the breeze, drawing her like she was on a rope toward the barn.
The moon was obscured by thick clouds tonight, leaving no light to guide her. But Meadow could walk the path to the barn in the dark and totally blind. How many times had she counted the steps it took to reach her horse?
At the door, she reached for the handle to slide it aside. The well-oiled wheels rolled quietly, and she stepped inside before reaching for the light switch on the wall.
Something hard grabbed her arm. A hand.
She opened her mouth to shriek, but another came down on her mouth, cutting off any sound. Terror and panic rose inside her, hot and thick and jagged. The thorns of fear jabbed her deep, and she began to struggle against whoever had grabbed her.
Twisting, she balled her fist and tried to strike any part of the man holding her.
As she struggled, his hand slipped on her mouth, and she let out a shriek, pushing the sound out with the entire force of her lungs. The scream echoed through the barn. But how far would the sound carry? Who was nearby to even hear?
To help?
To save her?
She had no one. She had to save herself.
“Let me go!” She kicked and bucked against the prison of the man’s arms. “If you know what’s good for you, let me go!”
A deep voice penetrated her fog of terror, washing across her ear. “Did you come to see your horse?”
She went still.
“Your horse is dead. I gutted her myself. Your father didn’t get the memo, though, did he? He hid in the hospital instead. Now I’m here to take you in payment.”
Her heart raced so painfully that she could scarcely breathe. Panting hard, she ran her tongue over her parched lips. “Payment for what?” she croaked.
Tough fingers bit into her arm. The other hand clapped over her mouth once more. Before he could seal off her air, she shrieked again. His hand muffled it too much.
No one would ever hear her.
She was going to be killed…like her horse? Oh god. Jewel. When? Why?
Who was this man?
He moved his grip and shook her until her head snapped on her neck. Still, she screamed—it was her only defense now. If anyone was left on the ranch, they wouldn’t be far and would come running to her aid.
“Shut up! Shut the hell up!”
He locked his hand over her nose and mouth. She struggled to find a hint of air, but he seemed to know how to cut off all her supply of oxygen.
Arching her back, she tried to elbow him, to kick—to cause any damage to her captor.
Suddenly, three things happened at once. His hand fell away from her mouth. The other slid down her arm. And the noise of an splintering wood echoed through the barn.
Meadow looked up in time to see her assailant flying into the wall. The form crumpled to the floor.
Then she made out the familiar wide pair of shoulders.
Her heart jerked in her chest, her mind frozen with fear as she looked on.
Colton slowly advanced on the man lying on the floor. Fists curled at the ends of his long arms, he walked up to the guy and kicked him.
He didn’t move.
A hysterical scream bubbled out of Meadow’s lips. She was sucking in the air she’d been deprived of, but too fast. In the back of her mind, she realized she was hyperventilating.
