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I moved through the cottage, searching for clues. Her phone was on the coffee table. That was bad. But there was no blood. No sign of a struggle. That was good. She was alive and not bleeding—for now, anyway. Considering he’d already stabbed her once, I doubted he planned to keep her that way.

Panic and fury tightened my chest. I needed to find her. But Clay Campbell was a stranger to me. I knew nothing about him. When he’d shown up a few weeks ago and signed on to round up the cattle from the public lands, I hadn’t thought twice about it. Cowboys came and went, depending on the time of year. Some of them stuck around for the long haul, but most kept moving.

I slammed my palm against the wall in frustration. Where would he take her? I had nothing to go on. He had no family here. No connections. From what I’d seen of him, he wasn’t particularly skilled with horses or cattle.

But none of that told me what he did know. Did he know the trails around here well enough to hide out for a few days until he could escape? Did he know to keep his gas tank full and supplies stocked in case the opportunity to grab her presented itself?

My phone buzzed, but it wasn’t Mateo. Frowning, I answered it. “Miguel?”

“Hey, Seb. Listen, is Lila around?”

My eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking me that?”

“She’s not answering her phone.” There was a pause. “It’s probably nothing, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. I ran into Lila about thirty minutes ago. She told me to watch out for flying houses. They’re everywhere, she said.”

I rubbed my temple. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s a joke. Because I told her I’m the Witch of the East. The innocent bystander who gets a house dropped on them⁠—”

“She was alone?” I interrupted.

“Nah, she was with one of the cowboys. The new kid.”

I grabbed what I’d need, on the move without knowing my direction. “Did either of them say anything else? I need to know. Tell me everything, even if it seems inconsequential.”

The urgency in my voice told him everything my words didn’t. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Miguel.” I raked my fingers through my hair and pulled. The pain grounded me. Kept me from reaching through the phone and strangling him. “Tell me everything.”

“He said he was taking her to the waterfall.”

That was a three-mile hike with high vertical gain. “Did they have anything with them? Backpacks? Food? Water?”

“Nothing that I could see.”

“Thanks.” I hung up and immediately called Mateo.

“They’re definitely on foot,” Mateo said before I could get a word out. “His truck is in the lodge parking lot. All ATVs are accounted for. No tack is missing so they’re not on horseback.”

“Miguel saw Lila and Clay together,” I said. “Clay told him they were heading to the falls.”

“It could be a trap. Or a red herring. Or he could be dumb enough to announce where he was going.” He paused. “You’re heading there now, aren’t you.” It was a statement, not a question. Mateo knew me well.

“I’ll take the falls. The rest of you spread out and cover as much ground as you can, just in case.”

“Cell service is spotty on the trail. If you run into trouble, we won’t know. So, you know, don’t.”

I laughed as I sprinted down the trail. “Worried about me?”

“Murder doesn’t require intelligence. Any dumb fuck can pull a trigger. Don’t underestimate him.”

“I won’t.”

Panic receded, and my focus sharpened. There was so much I didn’t know—his motive, his intent, his weapon. But I knew myself. I was not going to let him hurt my wife. I was going to find her, and I was going to bring her safely home where she belonged, and goddammit, I was going to keep her there because I could not survive without her. There was no other option.

And that meant I knew one thing about Clay Campbell, after all.

He had fucked with the wrong husband.