Zoe Collier gripped the pitchfork and stabbed it into the bale of hay. “I’m going to grab some water bottles from the fridge, okay?”
“Okay, Mom.” Nine-year-old Sophia turned the water off and started wrapping the hose.
“Remind me to put some in the fridge out here for later.”
“Put some out here for later,” Sophia dutifully said.
“Haha. Come on in after you finish that, and we’ll make some cookies.”
Zoe relished her daughter’s grin. One that used to flash all the time before the kidnapping attempt a month ago. She’d been walking home from school when a car pulled up beside her. The vehicle door had flown open, and hands had reached for Sophia. Zoe had been standing on the porch watching it, horrified at the possibility that the man would manage to get her daughter into the vehicle. She’d raced toward them screaming for Sophia to run. Sophia had, and the car had squealed away.
Zoe shuddered.
Then the attempt to run Zoe off the road and leave her in the ditch—or worse, have her go over the side of the cliff...
She shook her head.
At least now they were safe until she could figure out whom to trust and ask for help. Running two hundred miles away from Knoxville, Tennessee, to this little town in the middle of nowhere had seemed like a good idea a few weeks ago. Now she wasn’t sure.
Oh, the people in town were friendly enough, but she and Sophia were so isolated out here. More isolated than she’d intended or understood it to be when she’d taken the job. She drew in a deep breath. But it served its purpose. “Stop it. Get the water and put your worries behind you. You have a painting to finish,” Zoe told herself. She was extremely grateful she could work from anywhere. Her paintings sold well in a variety of shops all over the country, providing a good living for her and Sophia. She looked over the area. If she could live anywhere on a permanent basis, it would be somewhere like this. A rich land with horses to ride and plenty of fresh air to breathe.
“Hey, Mom?”
She turned back to Sophia. “Yes?”
“When is Lily going to have her baby?”
Lily, the pregnant heifer. “Any day now.”
“Is Doctor Aaron going to come check on her today?”
At the mention of the hunky veterinarian, Zoe’s heart turned a flip. “Yes, he’ll be here soon, I imagine.”
“I like him.” Sophia skipped back to the hose to finish wrapping it.
Yeah, I do, too. She’d run into him at the local diner when he’d walked in with a service animal he had been training. Sophia had been instantly captivated by both man and beast. Zoe hadn’t been far behind. When she realized he was the vet who would be checking on Lily on a daily basis, she’d ordered her heart to chill. To no avail. It still did a little happy dance every time he showed up.
She walked up the porch steps and reached for the knob of the door. Only to stop and snatch her hand away.
The door wasn’t shut all the way. The black crack from top to bottom mocked her. She stepped back, her pulse ratcheting up several notches.
She knew she’d shut the door. With the indoor cat, who liked to make her escape whenever the opportunity presented itself, Zoe was extra careful with the doors. So why was it open? Had Sophia—
“Mom!”
Sophia’s harsh scream spun Zoe around. Her fear spiking, she froze and stumbled a full turn. A large man held Sophia by her ponytail, a gun pointed to her head. Her daughter cried out again and tried to pull away, but he held her easily.
“Let her go!” Zoe moved toward them, her only thought to get her child away from the man.
He moved the weapon so it pointed at Zoe, his finger tightening on the trigger. A cruel smile tilted his thin lips upward. “Bye-bye.”
Zoe shook, somehow made her legs work and ducked behind the wheelbarrow just as a loud crack splintered the air. Sophia screamed, a high-pitched, ear-piercing wail full of terror. Zoe’s legs gave out and she hit the ground hard. She tried to think, but the horror sweeping over her wouldn’t let her. She had to get to Sophia. She had to get her child back.
“Stop, you moron! Don’t shoot her!”
Zoe’s breath came in pants, her terror lessening a fraction as relief filled her. Someone had come. She nearly sobbed. She forced her legs to stand, to take a step toward the man who still held a crying Sophia. He kept the gun held on Zoe, but glanced at the other man who’d stepped from inside the house, cell phone pressed to his ear. “Don’t shoot her!”
Relief fled and fear gripped her again. What was this second man doing in her house? She headed to Sophia who continued to struggle in spite of the pain inflicted by the man’s hold on her hair. With his other hand, he aimed the weapon at Zoe, but didn’t pull the trigger, his gaze still darting between her and the man behind her. When she was two steps from Sophia, her daughter’s eyes widened and her attention focused behind her. Zoe turned to look over her shoulder, saw a flash of movement. Before she had time to think, something crashed into the side of her forehead, pain exploded through her skull and she fell to the ground.
* * *
Aaron Starke stepped up to the counter and took the two prescription bags from Lucille Andrews, the pharmacist for the Wrangler’s Corner Pharmacy. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Hope your mom feels better fast.”
“It’s just an ear infection. She should be fine in a day or so.”
“And thanks for taking that out to Zoe. I know she’ll appreciate it.”
“Happy to do it. See you later.” He headed back to his truck and tossed the bags onto the passenger seat. One for his mother and one for the pretty single mom he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. Although he really needed to.
Well, he was going out to the farm anyway to check on the pregnant heifer. Taking the prescription was only being neighborly, nothing else. Right? Right.
Ten minutes later, he turned into the Updikes’ drive and followed it up to the main house. A large four-bedroom home, it looked lived-in and loved, with Thanksgiving decorations hung on the door and a small flag with the words “Thankful for Blessings” stuck in the ground. He figured that was Zoe’s doing. He didn’t remember Martha Updike bothering with that kind of thing.
Aaron coasted to a stop at the top of the drive. An old pickup truck sat in front of him. He’d never seen it before and knew Zoe didn’t drive it. She had a Jeep Wrangler. Maybe she had family visiting? Then he noticed the open barn door and frowned. Why would Zoe have the door open when the temperatures were already dropping and were supposed to hit record colds tonight?
He climbed out of the truck and pulled his heavy down coat tighter against his throat. He shoved his hands into his gloves and settled his hat more firmly on his head. Snowflakes drifted down littering the ground that was already starting to turn white. Aaron tromped across the few remaining dried twigs that would be green grass
