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"I had tried to indict him for stalking and assaulting two women, but there wasn't enough evidence. I didn't succeed. He made me his next victim. End of story."
    "Surely there's more to it than that."
    Olivia clasped her hands and rested them in her lap to hide the trembling. "Those are the facts."
    "But how did you feel during the attack? Were you frightened?"
    Fragments of that night strobed through Olivia's mind: Larsen swinging the bat at her knee, his leer as he slapped her, his hand on her breast. She choked back the bile rising in her throat and struggled for a calm that wasn't there. "Only a fool wouldn't have been frightened, Melinda, and I'm no fool. I'm only trying to put it behind me now."
    Melinda leaned forward, looking like a shark going in for the kill. "So you are having trouble dealing with it."
    Irritation cut through the lingering fear. "It isn't something a person recovers from overnight, but I'm handling it."
    "Are you? No one has seen you since you returned."
    "I visit my physical therapist twice a week in Walden." Olivia stood. "If there's nothing else...?"
    Melinda reluctantly returned her notebook and pen to her purse, then rose. "I think you've answered my questions."
    Olivia didn't like her tone. It implied Melinda had read more into her censored answers.
    The highly strung stallion neighed from its corral, drawing Olivia's attention. Her father had bought him a few months ago for breeding. Only the more experienced ranch hands could get near him. It was no surprise the farrier was still having trouble with him.
    "What a beautiful animal. I'd like to take a closer look," Melinda said, her gaze on the corral.
    The woman didn't strike Olivia as the type to be interested in a horse. Did she suspect Olivia was frightened of leaving the house and wanted to have her theory proven correct? Though she had gone outside every day since she'd seen Misty and her foals, and had even started helping Connie prepare lunch and dinner for the men, she only went out after the yard was empty. Now, there were a handful of hired men still standing around, including the convicts. Her father was by the barn, talking to Buck.
    Olivia steeled her shaky resolve. She wouldn't let Melinda see her fear, or it would be broadcast around the entire county in the next edition of the Jackson County Sentinel.
    "Let's go," Olivia said with forced brightness. She descended the steps carefully, her mouth dry and her heart thumping. Her legs wobbled, and she wished she'd brought her cane. However, she lifted her chin and looked out across the yard, only to have her gaze snared by Hank Elliott's. Even across the distance separating them, she felt the heat of his eyes, thawing her icy dread and turning it into something hot and volatile but no less frightening.
    Conscious of the gazes following them, Olivia forced herself to ignore them. Besides, it was likely their gazes were locked on Melinda and her well-endowed curves plainly visible beneath her snug clothing rather than Olivia in her baggy sweatshirt and jeans. Thank goodness.
    Olivia gritted her teeth as she limped across the uneven yard. Melinda's heels weren't made for traversing ranch yards, and Olivia felt a smug sense of satisfaction at the woman's gracelessness.
    At the corral, Olivia leaned against a post, taking some weight off her bad leg. Melinda stood beside her and raised one foot, then the other, checking to see if her impractical heels were still intact. Despite her uneasiness, Olivia had to bite back a smile.
    Melinda glanced up, but instead of looking at the stallion, she peered into another corral where the farrier and Hank were putting new shoes on one of the mares.
    "Who is that?" Melinda asked, pointing at Hank.
    Obviously Melinda was more enthralled with the human stallion.
    "He's one of the convicts here on the work release program," Olivia answered blandly.
    "Oooh, a bad boy."
    Olivia didn't know whether to laugh or gag. "A very bad boy. I thought you were