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married."
    "Not anymore."
    "I'm sorry," Olivia said, fumbling for something to say.
    "I'm not."
    Before Olivia could comment, the stallion trotted up to them and blew noisily, showering Melinda with droplets of horse snot.
    "Ewww," Melinda said, her nose wrinkled with disgust as she brushed ineffectually at her hair and ruined blouse. Then she glared at the stallion and smacked his nose with her fist.
    The excitable animal whinnied shrilly, and his eyes rolled upward. He raced away from them, and before Olivia could shout a warning, the stallion tried to leap over the fence. His right foreleg caught on the top pole, and the horse toppled to the ground inside the corral with a hair-curling scream.
    Olivia nearly screamed herself, but slapped her hand over her mouth.
    The stallion surged to its feet, and Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. Then she noticed the horse favoring his right leg.
    "Damn," she whispered hoarsely.
    The farrier, Shandler, and Hank Elliott were the first to reach the stallion. Lopez, Reger, and Barton were next, followed by the hired men who remained in the yard. They approached the animal warily. Shandler managed to grab the stallion's halter, and Lopez clipped a lead rope to it. The convict tied the horse to a post with calm, unhurried motions. Surprisingly, the stallion behaved, as if knowing they only wanted to help.
    Olivia's father hurried toward her and Melinda, his expression stormy. "What happened?" he demanded.
    "It was an accident, Judge Kincaid," Melinda said in a whiney voice. She plucked at her damp shirt. "He ruined my blouse, and I lost my temper."
    "She hit him," Olivia said flatly. "It scared him."
    Melinda flashed Olivia a reproachful glance. "It was an accident," she repeated to the judge.
    "I think you should leave now, Ms. Holcomb," he said firmly.
    Melinda lifted her chin. "Fine. At least I have my story."
    She pivoted, nearly lost her balance on her heels, then wobbled back to her car. This time Olivia couldn't even dredge up a smidgen of amusement at her awkwardness.
    "I'm sorry, Dad. I had no idea she'd do anything like that," Olivia said, guilt and misery pressing down on her.
    Her father's arm settled around her shoulders. "It's not your fault, Liv."
    She and her father watched Hank and Shandler examine the horse's leg. Finally, they stood back and released the stallion. He trotted away, favoring the leg only slightly.
    Her father sighed in relief. "It doesn't look like he was seriously hurt."
    Olivia nodded, also relieved. "Thank heavens."
    "I have to talk to Buck about a couple more things. Do you want me to walk you back to the house first?" he asked.
    Now that the excitement was past, fear encroached Olivia's thoughts again. She pressed it back. She'd come this far with Melinda; she could walk back by herself.
    "Go ahead. I'll be fine."
    He gazed at her for a moment before giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, then walked away.
    She glanced around and spotted the ferrety convict Mantle staring at her. His thin lips were curved upward in a lecherous smile. Olivia quickly turned away to begin the long trek back to the house. Her shoulders tight with tension, she could feel Mantle's lewd gaze on her. Why was he watching her? What did he want?
    Her breath came in harsh gasps, and the distance to the house seemed an impossible chasm to cross. Her injured knee burned with agonizing pain, but she couldn't slow down. She had to get to safety... to the gun that would protect her.
    A hand settled on her arm, and she spun around, seeing a black cap and a chambray shirt with Wilson Correctional Facility printed on the pocket. A scream crawled up her throat, but her bad leg buckled, stealing her breath.
    Hank kept a firm hold so she didn't collapse to the ground. "Careful, Ms. Kincaid." His smooth-as-melted-butter voice slid through her.
    An odd mix of relief, panic, and desire flooded Olivia when she realized it wasn't Mantle. Still, she struggled to free herself from his firm but gentle