abusive, and she had not been able to live with black eyes, a bruised body and a shattered heart for long. Her marriage had lasted three years, and looking back at the misery of it she wondered why she’d stayed that long.
Carly pushed that phase of her life from her mind because she hated thinking about it. Besides, if she was going to attempt some serious thinking, it should be about what she intended to do when she returned to New York. Before her marriage she had worked in advertising, and it was a career she could go back to, she knew. She just hadn’t found her way yet, but she would.
But she didn’t want to be serious today, not about anything, and she rode through grassy fields, moving farther and farther away from the compound, thinking scattered thoughts and even doing some humming, simply because it was a fabulous day and she felt so carefree on that beautiful mare’s back.
Approaching a series of foothills, Goldie suddenly tossed her head and whinnied, startling Carly out of her insouciant mood. She patted the mare’s neck and murmured calming words, but the pretty mare still seemed agitated.
“What is it, girl?” Carly asked quietly, looking around to see what might have alarmed the horse. A snake, maybe? Remembering that her father had said there were rattlesnakes in certain areas of the ranch, Carly anxiously searched the ground. She saw nothing but grass and a tiny field mouse running for its hole. A mouse shouldn’t spook Goldie, but then she really didn’t know the mare that well, did she?
Carly urged Goldie to move on, and the mare obeyed. Carly relaxed again. The foothills looked interesting. She could see pine trees and thought she heard the movement of water, a creek perhaps. Goldie could have a drink, Carly thought as she urged the mare up a hill and into the trees.
Oh, this is lovely. It was much cooler in the trees, and the sound of the creek was louder. Wondering if she, too, could have drink from a creek, if it was safe for a human to drink from a creek, Carly realized that she should have brought some water with her. She would not forget water the next time she took a ride, she told herself.
Well, she would let Goldie have a drink, then start back. In the next breath her heart nearly stopped beating. Not twenty feet away, directly in her path, was the black stallion she’d seen from the helicopter yesterday. He was as physically magnificent as she’d thought then, but he didn’t look very friendly, and Carly’s mouth was suddenly drier than it had been a minute ago.
The stallion pawed the ground, threw his head around and snorted. Goldie began prancing around, throwing her head around and whinnying softly.
“Oh, my God,” Carly whispered as fear shot through her. The stallion wanted to add Goldie to his harem, and the mare was responding to his call!
The stallion reared and his whinny sounded like a scream. Stunned and scared to death, Carly tried to calm Goldie, but the mare, in her present state of excitement, was far more horse than Carly could handle. Goldie reared to her hind legs, and Carly tried desperately to hang on, but the next thing she knew she had hit the ground, hard.
The last thing Carly saw before passing out was Goldie running off after the stallion.
Four
Carly was unconscious only a few minutes. When her eyes opened, she stared up at the patch of blue sky visible through the trees and realized that she was almost afraid of getting to her feet, or of trying to. If she’d broken a bone in that fall, what would she do?
With a rapid heartbeat borne of dread, Carly gingerly began testing the mobility of her own body. It was relieving to be able to move her arms and legs with no more than the discomfort of a few aches and pains. Cautiously, she got up from the ground, then clung to a small tree until the dizziness in her head passed. She analyzed what had happened: the fall from Goldie’s back, so unexpected and startling, had knocked the wind out of her and was the reason she’d passed out.
Her pragmatic side accepted the analysis and began wondering how far she was from the ranch compound and how long it would take her to walk back to it. She believed that she knew the right direction in which to start walking, but then she felt a spurt of uneasiness when she glanced around and everything looked the same.
That way, she thought, then changed her mind. No, that way. If she weren’t in the trees, if she’d stayed in open country…
She sucked in a long, suddenly nervous breath. She might as well face facts. The fall had disoriented her; she didn’t know which way to go to get out of the trees! One thing kept her from panicking: she’d only been riding in the pine forest for twenty minutes or so. She checked the time on her wristwatch. If she walked for twenty minutes, in any direction, and saw nothing but more trees, she would turn around and try another direction.
Yes, that made sense. Keeping track of the time would be crucial, and she would mark this spot so she could recognize it if and when she had to return to it to maintain her bearings.
Ignoring the aches in her body, Carly let go of the tree, located three rocks that she stacked in a pile—surely she would recognize those rocks if she saw them again—and then set out walking.
By four that afternoon Jake was in a sweat. His path had crossed that of his men several times in their search, and no one had found even a clue as to Carly’s whereabouts.
He had reorganized the search at one point, telling some members of his crew to return to the compound and exchange their horses for pickup trucks. There were a lot of roads crisscrossing the ranch, and each and every one of them should be checked.
But he stuck to his horse, because the terrain of the vast ranch was so varied and much of it could only be reached on horseback. Peering into deep canyons and crevices was unnerving for Jake, because he was beginning to fear that Carly had run into trouble. His most consoling thought was that she had merely gotten lost and was aimlessly—and probably frighteningly—attempting to find her way back to the compound.
At moments, though, while riding and searching, Jake felt a searing anger. How dare she take a horse she knew nothing about and go off the way she had? She at least could have told Barney what she’d intended doing. Barney would have warned her against riding Goldie, and this whole thing would not have happened. If Carly was safe and sound when someone finally found her, Jake was going to give her hell in no uncertain terms, and she could call her dad and tattle or do anything else she felt like doing about it.
Around five Jake found himself near the foothills. He stopped his horse and frowned at the pine forests darkening the hills. Was Carly dumb enough to get herself lost in the forests? Jake’s heart sank. If she was in those trees, it could take days to find her. He glanced up at the sun; he still had two hours of full daylight and about another hour of fading light as the sun went down.
And then the thought that he’d been trying to keep at bay for hours would remain buried no longer: if Carly had run into that stallion she could be seriously injured, or even worse. The idea of phoning Stuart with that sort of news was so chilling that Jake couldn’t let himself dwell on it. Kicking his horse in the ribs, he headed up the nearest hill toward the pine trees.
Carly had returned to her little pile of rocks more times than she cared to count, and she’d had to start battling a developing fear. She was exhausted and had to rest awhile before trying yet another direction. She sat down with her back against a tree and shut her eyes.
She was so angry with herself that she could think of nothing else. You fool, you moron. How could you have gotten yourself into a mess like this? No one at the ranch has probably even missed you. All the men were out working when you left, and they’re
