As she cranked her engine, preparing to get back on the road, a billboard across the road advertising the local rodeo snagged her attention. The ad featured pictures of both a cowboy and a cowgirl competing, and her thoughts flashed to a friend from high school who’d been a rodeo champion—until a car accident had left her severely injured and relearning how to walk. For years, she and Nina had stayed in touch. Carrie had visited Nina several times through her rehabilitation and cheered the progress of Nina’s recovery. How long had it been since she’d heard from her old friend? Two years? Three? Since she’d broken ties with so many of her old friends, deleted her Facebook and Twitter accounts, and essentially erased her past connections—to protect them from Joseph.

A sharp pang for her former life, for her dear high school and college friends, for days when her biggest worry was whether the Taylor Swift concert would sell out before she and her gal pals could land tickets. Carrie huffed a sigh of resentment toward Joseph and all the ways he’d wrecked her life. Taylor Swift concerts being the least of those ways. He’d stolen her freedom, her happiness, her peace of mind.

Blinking back tears, she continued to stare at the rodeo billboard, remembering how inspirational Nina’s attitude and determination to heal from her setback had been. Nina had stayed so positive. She buoyed those around her as much as her friends had encouraged and comforted her. Carrie missed that mettle. Missed Nina.

Her heart beat faster as an idea tickled. Last she’d heard, Nina was in Colorado. Colorado was within a day’s drive of here. Joseph didn’t know Nina. Not well, anyway. She’d talked to him about her friend’s remarkable accident recovery, but she’d given him few details.

She’d give almost anything to spend a few days with Nina and pretend for a short while that she was eighteen and carefree again. Too risky. The warning whispered in her head, while a desperate longing and nostalgia wrenched in her chest.

She dug her burner cell out of her bag and stared at it while she debated. Could she maybe just call Nina, hear her voice, receive the sort of pep talk Nina did so well? Before she could talk herself out of it, she was looking up the number for Zoe’s Diner in Boyd Valley, the eatery that Nina’s mother owned. Zoe would know how to reach Nina.

“Zoe’s Diner, how can I help you?”

A smile spread across Carrie’s face as the familiar maternal voice filled her ear—and her heart. She passed the next few minutes with generalized small talk with Zoe before getting Nina’s phone number.