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He intended to strangle her.
Faith screamed, raising the pitchfork still clasped in her hand. She jabbed forward. The intruder leapt back, but she didn’t give him a moment to recover. She kept charging. She wouldn’t allow him to hurt her, or the precious baby in her tack room. Someone was yelling like a mad woman and Faith didn’t realize until much later that it was her.
He attempted to grab the pitchfork with a gloved hand. Faith dodged. She couldn’t allow him to get close to her, since his strength would easily overpower her. The intruder sidestepped. The move threw Faith off balance. She stumbled and nearly fell.
The opening was all he needed.
He grabbed the pitchfork. For a terrifying heartbeat, they wrestled for control over the makeshift weapon. Then a flash of inspiration had Faith loosening her grip. The masked man felt it, and his muscles relaxed for just a second. Hatred and evil poured off him. The lead rope was still clutched in his hand.
God, please. Let this work.
Blood pulsing in her ears, Faith lunged suddenly. Her attacker stumbled back against the horse stall. His scream ricocheted around the barn as the pitchfork impaled his thigh.
Faith dropped her end and spun toward the tack room. In moments, she had the baby in her arms. She didn’t dare spare a glance at the man writhing on the barn floor in pain. Her entire focus was getting away from him. Clutching the infant to her chest, she raced from the barn as though the devil himself were on her heels.
Her feet pounded against the grass. The world narrowed to her farm house, the back door signaling safety. Faith urged her body to move faster. Her instincts screamed that the intruder might not be alone. There could be more. She had no idea what was going on.
She bolted onto the porch. Her fingers trembled as she twisted the knob on her back door. It swung open, and she darted inside, slammed the door behind her, and then twisted the locks into place. Chest heaving, she backed away. Her gaze went to the large picture window overlooking the yard. Scanning, searching for any sign of the intruder heading her way. The baby in her arms stirred.
Her phone. She needed to call the police—
She rammed into something solid. Rough hands landed on her shoulders.
Faith screamed.
