Logan stayed quiet for a moment, letting Isabel ease out of her shock. Very slowly he laid his hand on her forearm. “I heard you scream. What happened?”
She tried several times before the words came out. “It was the man, the one who pushed me into the ravine. I went to visit Cassie’s grave and he was there, watching me.”
Logan frowned. “How do you know it was the same man?”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “That awful song. He sang the same song.”
He kept his voice soft and gentle. “Did he touch you? Hurt you?”
She started to tremble. “No. He just watched me. Watched me run and fall and get up and run again. He just watched me. And…”
“And what?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Logan, he knew my name.”
DANA MENTINK
lives in California with her family. Dana and her husband met doing a dinner theater production of The Velveteen Rabbit. In college, she competed in national speech and debate tournaments. Besides writing novels, Dana taste-tests for the National Food Lab and freelances for a local newspaper. In addition to her work with Steeple Hill Books, she writes cozy mysteries for Barbour Books. Dana loves feedback from her readers. Contact her at www.danamentink.com.
Betrayal in the Badlands
Dana Mentink
MILLS & BOON
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Thou hast taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Thy bottle; Are they not in Thy book?
—Psalms 56:8
The book is dedicated to readers both near and far who honor me by reading my words and lighten my heart with their kind words of encouragement.
Thank you.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
LETTER TO READER
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
ONE
The dead quiet made Isabel Ling’s skin prickle. In less than an hour the sun would set and she’d be all alone on this road, a good forty minutes from town and another half hour from Mountain Cloud Ranch. She couldn’t stop the thought that rose in her mind as she wrestled with the flat tire. Was it a spot like this where her sister died not three weeks ago? A lizard darted under her truck, causing her to drop the lug nuts.
She chided herself as she retrieved them from the dust. “You’re thirty-two years old, Is. Not some scared teenager. No one is going to hurt you here.” Gritting her teeth she heaved the new tire from the trunk and began to wrestle it onto the axle, ignoring the ache in her head. It was not the time for another attack. She had nothing else with her, not so much as one piece of hard candy, so going unconscious from her hypoglycemia was not an option.
“Need a hand?”
Isabel yelped and whirled around, losing her grip on the tire. She found herself staring into the tanned face of a stranger. He wore a baseball cap with the Air Force logo embroidered on it. His hair was crew-cut style and his chin shadowed in stubble. Perspiration glistened on his forehead and darkened his tank top. Isabel saw her own scared face mirrored back at her in his sunglasses, until he removed them.
She closed her mouth and lifted her chin, willing her knees to stop shaking. “I didn’t hear your car.”
He shrugged, breathing hard. “I’m out for a run.”
She tried not to gape. “In this heat?”
The green of his eyes were a startling burst of color in his browned face. “Good for the soul. Where are you headed?”
Something about his voice was familiar. She wiped a hand across her brow to buy time. “Mountain Cloud Ranch.”
His smile wavered. “Cassie Reynolds’s ranch? Are you related?”
“We are—were sisters. I’m Isabel Ling.”
“Logan Price.” He rested his hands on his hips. “I knew Cassie.”
The tension in her stomach grew as the pieces fell into place. “Oh, yes. You called to see if you should finish the work on the ranch.”
He looked down for a moment. “I hope that was okay. I didn’t mean to bother you. I hate leaving a job unfinished.”
He had sounded kind on the phone, with a voice that was uncannily familiar, but she’d suspected that his call was motivated by the desire to be paid for his work. Now here he was, and he probably knew more about Cassie than she did.
Since Isabel had run away from home at sixteen, she had only exchanged six letters with her sister. Six ridiculously small pieces of paper, instead of the volumes they should have shared. She swallowed hard and forced herself to look him in the eye, feeling again a stab of familiarity she could not explain.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you taking care of Mountain Cloud?”
Isabel shot him a tight smile. “Looks that way. I think I’d better get this tire on.”
“Let me help you.” He bent to take the lug wrench from her hand, muscled shoulders gleaming in the sunlight.
“No, thanks. I can do it.”
“I’m sure you can. I’d be happy to help. You look tired.”
Isabel stepped between him and the tire. “I appreciate it, but I don’t need help.”
He looked at her for a long moment, expression unreadable. “Okay. Do you have a phone?”
She pulled the new satellite phone from her pocket. He