Dropping on his haunches, Chase pressed a finger to the hombre’s thick neck. He was out cold but still breathing.

“Maybe I should tie him up,” he whispered.

“Let’s just leave,” she whispered back and started for her horse.

Reaching for the man’s gun, Chase shoved it in his holster.

His head still pounding, he gingerly started down the hill to where his horse was tethered and climbed into his saddle.

Not trusting himself to lead the way through the rough terrain, he motioned Emily to go first.

They traveled for miles without speaking. On occasion, he stopped to listen and make certain they weren’t being followed.

Less than a mile from the ranch, he pulled on the reins, drawing his horse to a halt.

A fingernail moon hung overhead, and the stars shone bright, but the night was strangely quiet.

Emily doubled back and rode to his side. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He slipped from his mount and reached for his canteen. The bump on his head hurt like the dickens, but the questions in his head hurt even more.

He removed the cap from the canteen and took a long swallow. The water was warm and tasteless, but it soothed his dry mouth. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he offered her a drink before recapping the canteen.

“What were you doin’ there?” he asked at last.

She hesitated before dismounting. “I saw a bunch of cattle being herded away from the ranch.”

“Saw?”

She nodded. “I was on the way back from town and—”

“You were on the way back?” Without giving her a chance to answer, Chase asked, “Why didn’t you go for help?”

“I didn’t think there was time.” Hesitating, she ran her hands up and down her arms as if to ward off the chill. “I wanted to prove to you…to everyone…that I wasn’t like my uncle. I thought if I found who was behind the cattle rustling, it would help make up for some of the trouble my uncle caused.”

“Blast it, Emily. You could have been killed!”

“You could have been too!”

His gaze sharpened. “Why, Emily? Why did you come here? Was it to hurt me?”

Had she been in cahoots with Royce? He hated that his uncle had put such thoughts in his head. But he had to know. He had to know.

“Hurt you? No, absolutely not! I came here to marry Garvey. You know that. How could you think I would want to hurt you?”

The pain in her voice, on her face, nearly killed him, but still, he persisted. “Why here, Emily? Why did you come to Haywire? Knowing what your uncle had done to the folks around here?”

“But that’s just it. I didn’t know. Not at first.”

It was too dark to clearly see her expression. He wanted to believe the sincerity in her voice was real. His heart was willing, but the mind was harder to convince.

Turning his back, he slipped the canteen’s leather straps over the horn of his saddle. “How did the cattle thieves not see you?”