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“What other choice do I have?”
“We could call the sheriff. I bet they have a search and rescue team they could send out.”
He stopped and faced her. “I know you’re new here, but Copper Creek isn’t that big. The search and rescue team would take too long to organize. We don’t know how long your uncle has been missing or if he’s hurt. It’ll be faster if I just head out there on my own. Your uncle’s property isn’t as big as some of the others out there. The trails are worn enough that chances are good I’ll find him.” Mason hurried toward the barn. “You should stay here, though. If he gets back and needs help, then you should call someone.”
Harley scrambled to keep up with him the whole way until he had a horse saddled. He led the animal out to the nearest and most weathered trail.
Mason mounted the horse and stared down at Harley grimly. “If I’m not back in thirty minutes, call the sheriff.”
“Call the—what do you mean, if you’re not back in thirty minutes? Do you think you might actually get lost?” Harley’s eyes darted this way and that, fear emanating from every strained muscle.
“You’ll be fine. You have your phone. Just don’t come looking for us. Stay put, you hear me?”
Harley nodded. “I understand.”
With that, Mason pulled the reins around and tapped his boots into the horse’s flanks. As calm and confident as he’d been when giving Harley instructions, he couldn’t deny the anxiety he felt in this very moment. If Mr. Abrams was hurt or worse, then what would happen to this farm? What would happen to Harley and her family? He didn’t want to think about any of that at the moment.
He just needed to find the old man and make sure he would be able to figure out what to do with his property.
The farther he rode, the more one thought overcame all the others in his mind. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit that he already knew what needed to be done. If Abrams was hurt or incapable of working, he’d need someone who could take care of things until he was on his feet again.
Well, there went every chance he had at walking away now.
Mason was stuck.
About seven minutes into his ride, movement ahead on the trail caught his attention. A chestnut brown mare grazed on some grass that grew on the side of the trail. If the horse was here, then Abrams would be nearby.
At least, that was what Mason prayed for.
12
Harley
Harley paced in front of the barn. Every few seconds she looked down at her phone where she’d set a thirty-minute timer.
She should have never snuck into Vern’s office to get her device while he was riding. Maybe if she’d been working, she would have noticed that he hadn’t returned in a reasonable timeframe. If she had paid better attention, she might have been able to call for help sooner. She felt like such an idiot.
On top of that, she hadn’t exactly oozed likability when Mason had caught her with her phone. He didn’t even know that she wasn’t supposed to have it yet. If she’d only played the whole thing off as being startled, maybe she wouldn’t have scared him off.
How impulsive of her! She’d been so utterly reckless, and this was her life she was gambling with.
Her pacing turned to stomping as she stared out in the direction where Mason had gone. He’d only been gone ten minutes, but he had grown so antsy that she was considering calling for help already. What would he do if she broke the rules? The worst that would happen was that he’d walk away from the gig. Then she’d be on her own to fend off the demands her uncle had made of her.
That didn’t sound nearly as bad as finding out that her uncle could be injured somewhere. There was only one reason she could think of for why he wouldn’t have shown up on time.
Vern had to be seriously hurt. He could be unconscious somewhere. What if he’d hit his head on something and he couldn’t remember who he was?
While she hated the idea of staying here with him, it was the lesser of the two evils that had been presented to her. The other option had been to stay home with her mother and partake in her high society events.
Harley’s heart continued to pound away like it had been fueled by nuclear power. She stopped her pacing and watched for Mason again. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she looked down at her phone and considered the consequences of calling for help once more.
No, Mason had insisted she wait the full thirty minutes. She could do that for him. That wasn’t too difficult.
She just had to wait.
Suddenly, a brown horse materialized over the edge of the hill where the trail disappeared. Her whole body went stiff and numb. That wasn’t the horse Mason had taken. It had to be her uncle’s.
She stood on her toes, holding her breath until she felt light-headed. The horse continued to trot toward her and she grabbed at its reins just as another horse, led by a tall cowboy, lumbered over the hill. On the back of the horse was another figure.
