Emily laughed. “My mouth is watering, already. Do you have any of your famous son-of-a-gun coffee?”

“Yep. Made fresh this mornin’.”

She reached for a clean cup and poured herself coffee from the pot on the stove. “Have you seen Ginny?”

“No, ma’am. Can’t say that I have.” He pursed his lips. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Sighing, Emily moved to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat. “Just that Peggy Sue doesn’t want me working with her and told me to stop.”

Cookie shook his head and proceeded to chop. The blade of his knife rapidly banged against the wooden board like the rat-a-tat tapping of a woodpecker. “Can’t say that I’m surprised.”

Emily scoffed. “Ginny’s biggest handicap is her mother! Maybe Chase will talk some sense into her.”

“I don’t know.” Cookie gathered up a handful of chopped carrots and added them to the Dutch oven. “The boss ain’t one to put his nose where it don’t belong.”

“Somebody has to.” Emily wasn’t one to interfere either, but neither was she willing to give up. There had to be a way to make Peggy Sue understand the importance of allowing Ginny to learn and grow in every way possible.

She finished her coffee and left the kitchen. Since there was nothing to do around the house, she walked outside, intending to take a ride. Maybe it was time to get to know more about the workings of the ranch.

Just as she stepped off the veranda, she noticed a horse racing toward the stables. She narrowed her eyes for a closer look. The horse’s reins dragged behind, and the empty stirrups flapped against the animal’s side. It was Rebel—no question—but where was Chase?

Worried now, Emily raced to the stables. Rusty had managed to grab hold of the reins and was trying to calm the horse, his face dark with worry. Cold fear swept through her, and her stomach clenched tight.

Something was terribly wrong!

25

Not wanting to take the time to saddle her own horse, Emily quickly mounted Rebel.

“Maybe you better wait here, ma’am,” Rusty said. “I’ll round up some of the boys, and we’ll look for him. There could be trouble.”

She didn’t need Rusty to tell her that. Her head was already filled with frightening thoughts. Had Chase been attacked by animals? Been thrown? Fallen ill? What?

“That’s what I intend to find out.”

Too worried to be mindful of the horse’s height or power, she pressed her legs against the animal’s sides and yelled, “Find Chase!”

Rebel leaped forward, and she guided the horse back the way he had come.

She rode in one direction all the way to the barbed-wire fence on the northern end, calling Chase’s name. Spotting a horseman in the distance, she yelled out. When he glanced her way, she recognized him as Kansas Pete.

“Something’s happened to Chase,” she shouted. “His horse returned without him.”

Kansas Pete waved back. “I’ll round up some of the boys,” he called and galloped off.