Page 48 of Cowboy Mountain Man

For a second, I can’t hear anything except my own pulse.

Harlan takes my face between his hands. “Look at me. You stay with Alden.”

“June—”

“I’m going to get her.”

“What if he hurts her before⁠—”

“He wants the card. That means he needs time to bargain.”

Alden is speaking to the sheriff now.

Harlan keeps his eyes on mine. “I need you here.”

I nod.

He kisses my forehead, takes his jacket, and leaves through the back door. Alden locks it behind him. Then he checks the front.

I sit down because my legs don’t seem interested in holding me anymore.

June.

I keep seeing her at the barn yesterday, ears tilted toward us. An animal who has no idea why a stranger is pulling at her face. I open the photograph again. The barn in the background. The fence. A blue bucket beneath the overhang. Something about it bothers me.

I swipe to the first image. Then back. The bucket is in the same place. So are the leaves. Even the little white mark on June’s shoulder looks familiar.

I zoom in on the bottom edge. Storm clouds and rain. Yesterday’s storm. It was raining when we reached Harlan’s cabin. But today there’s no rain, just cloud cover. “Alden.”

He lowers his phone. “This picture isn’t from now.”

He comes toward me. I show him. The photograph is bait. Harlan is riding toward an empty barn while⁠—

A knock sounds at the front door. Three sharp taps.

“Equinox,” a man calls. “Alden?”

Alden straightens. “Who?”

“Cole. Ellis sent me.”

He glances at his phone. A message has just come in. I can’t see what it says. He approaches the door, keeping me behind him.

Something heavy strikes the wood. The lock gives. Alden moves before the door finishes opening. He drives the first man back onto the porch. A second man comes through the kitchen. The back door I watched Alden lock.

He has a key.

And a gun.

“Stop.”

I freeze.

Alden turns at the sound of his voice. The first man hits him. Hard. Alden goes down against the porch rail.

I hear my own voice. “No!”

The man in the kitchen points the gun at me. “Phone. On the table.”