The trees thinned and before long they found themselves at the forest’s edge, confronted with a series of sloping, grassy hills, bare but for a speckling of shrubs and some scrawny, windblown trees. In the distance, their destination was revealed: an expanse of water shimmering in the sunlight, stretching from one side of the horizon to the other: the Pacific Ocean.

They rode until they could go no farther, coming to a stop ten yards from the precipice of a cliff. The view was spectacular. Amy could see for miles up and down the rugged coast and far out across the windswept sea.

“You were right,” she said, staring in wonder at the ocean, its surface frothing with a million whitecaps. “This was worth it.”

“It gets better,” Ryan said, jumping out of his saddle. “Come with me, let’s go in for a closer look.”

Amy took her time to dismount safely—the grass was wildly overgrown and she made sure her foot found solid ground before releasing the other from its stirrup. Ryan tied both horses to a nearby tree before taking confident strides toward the cliff edge. Amy however lingered a few steps behind. She contemplated the steep terrain and decided she could see just as well from where she stood.

He turned around. “You all right?”

“Yep.”

“Scared of heights?”

“No, just scared of falling.”

He grinned. “Come on, it’s safe.”

Amy took Ryan’s hand and joined him at the edge, but the stomach-­churning sight of the plunging cliff face had her quickly reaching for his arm instead. A stiff breeze swirled around them, conspiring to knock them off their feet.

Ryan stood steadfast and strong, though her touch had his stomach stirring with a flutter of nerves.

“How far down is that?” she asked.

“Two hundred feet, or thereabouts.”

“Whoa.”

Amy craned her neck and tipped her body farther over the edge. Her grip on Ryan’s arm turned clawlike at the sight of the ocean slamming against the rocks below.

“If you think that’s scary, you should’ve seen this place a few nights back when that big storm blew through. Pitch black, howling wind and rain—couldn’t see a thing.”

“What on earth were you doing out here in all that?” Satisfied at having proven her mettle, Amy let go of Ryan’s arm and retreated a few steps back.

“Remember back at the barn, the horse that wouldn’t say hi? ­Little Dipper?”

Amy nodded, still giddy from the view.

“Poor girl escaped the ranch. She spooked at a clap of thunder and that was it—she was gone. She bolted all the way out to this very spot. Took me hours to track her down. It was only through sheer dumb luck she hadn’t already wandered off the edge.”

“Thank God you found her.”