Read Charlene Sands for Free Online Page A

toward the trees. Maple snorted and sniffed as they approached the cooler area with sunshine playing hide-and-seek between tall branches. “Cooler now, girl,” she said, patting her just below her mane as they rode into the haphazard row of trees.
    Maple pranced sideways and snorted again, sensing something amiss in the trees. “What’s wrong, girl?” Tess couldn’t determine the source of the mare’s nervous behavior. She glanced through the shadows and directed the horse farther into the shade.
    Two gunshots rang out. In close range. Maple spooked and took off running. Alarmed, Tess tried reining her in. “Whoa, Maple. Stop!”
    But the mare flew out of the wooded area and cut across the plains so fast that Tess lost her hold on the reins. She tried for all she was worth to hang on, grabbing for the horn of the saddle. Her boots came out of the stirrups, and nothing but sheer will kept her upright.
    For about three seconds.
    Then she fell, landing hard on unyielding earth.
     
    “She should’ve been back by now,” Clint said to Mr. Stewart, who stood pacing on the front porch. The man had gone into the house already, spoken with Greta, then come out again. Sonny was nowhere to be found, and when Stewart had caught sight of Clint, he’d called him over.
    “Ain’t like Mrs. Hayworth to be late. She’s been prompt and efficient every other time I’ve come out to visit. Your cook said she went out for a ride and hasn’t returned.”
    “Don’t know what to say, Mr. Stewart. She took off this morning on horseback.”
    The man stood on the porch, dressed in a striped three-piece suit with sweat dripping down from his bowler hat. He glanced at his watch and shook his head. “I hope nothing’s happened to her.”
    Clint wasn’t one to worry, but it was strange that she’d been gone so long. “Tell you what—I’ll take a ride out and see if I can find her. You go on inside. Give me half an hour and then if—”
    Movement off in the distance caught his eye. He squinted and focused on Maple grazing out on the north pasture, an empty saddle on her back. “Damn. That’s her horse,” he said. “Looks like she might be in trouble.”
    Mr. Stewart gazed at the mare. “Never a good thing when a horse comes back without his rider.”
    Clint agreed on that notion and took off in a hurry to saddle up his gelding. Within minutes he was mounted and heading toward the grazing mare. When he noted that Maple’s saddle slanted down slightly off the left side, he knew that Tess was in trouble. Most likely she’d taken a fall.
    Once he did a quick assessment and was assured the horse hadn’t been injured, he put a hand to Maple’s rear end and encouraged the mare back to the stables. “You’re okay, girl. Go on back home,” he said, nodding his head. The horse took off toward the stables, and Clint watched a ranch hand race up to attend to the riderless mare.
    Clint traveled at a measured pace, hoping to track the path Maple had taken. Hayworth land was vast, and he could only venture to guess how far and in what direction Tess had gone. He’d give it some time, and if he couldn’t find her, he’d double back and get up a search party.
    After traveling for half an hour, a cropping of tall oaks came into view off in the distance. He remembered from his boyhood those trees and their forest-like appeal, granting a cool respite of shade from the otherwise sun-soaked flat plains. Most likely she’d headed there for a rest.
    “Let’s go,” he said quietly. His father’s gelding, Midnight, the fastest and most agile horse of the remuda, instantly understood. Already Clint had formed a bond with him, the horse aware of Clint’s direction simply by the intonation of his voice.
    He was halfway to the oaks when Clint spotted something. He lowered his hat brim to cut off the sun’s glare and squinted, pulling back the reins and slowing down. A spot of orange-red contrasted with the dry straw-stained plains.
    And when