I turned down Lake Ridge Road and spotted Mr. Miller’s ranch. The horses calmly grazed in the pasture. Behind them Mr. Miller’s old timber-framed barn looked like something from another era. The past I could handle. It was the future I was having trouble with.

As I walked the fence line, the horses picked up their heads and curiously watched me. I reached into my bag and pulled out an apple I had left over from lunch. I clucked to them the way Mom and I used to. I’d forgotten about how much I enjoyed riding on the weekends and feeding them with my mom.

The apple I held out was gone before I could blink, so I reached back into my bag for more goodies. One of the horses had pushed against the fence and was mouthing at my sleeve. “Hold on,” I muttered, digging for more. This time I made sure the horse took only one grape at a time.

“Hey!”

Shocked by the sudden masculine voice, I whipped my head around to find a guy coming toward me. His faded jeans and a hugging white T-shirt didn’t cover him enough to keep me from dropping my jaw a little. He kept his firm and flexed.

“You can’t do that.”

My heart quickened at the sight of his hard, almost angry eyes. Kori was always the one who did the talking in situations like this. I tried to think of what she would say if she were here, and all I could come up with was: “Just feeding the horses, sir.” I flicked the last word off of my tongue. Best not to show fear, after all.

His flexed muscles relaxed a little, but not his eyes. Or his tone. “Miller said no treats. Rots their teeth.”

I held out the evil, teeth-rotting grapes in my palm, and asked, “Really? Nine out of ten horse dentists would disagree with you.”

Without waiting for his reply, because I knew it wouldn’t be permission or an apology, I fed them to a black gelding.

The guy moved closer and asked, “So, what are you … following me or something?”

I looked back at him, this time really looking. His eyes were almost exactly the same blue as the infamous Mini Mart Mugger’s. I snapped my teeth back together and narrowed my gaze. Impossible. This guy didn’t have Shay’s blond hair, and the only tattoo he had was a Chinese symbol beneath his ear on the right side of his neck.

Maybe he was on the run and undercover. His hair did look freshly dyed.

“So?” His tone bordered on biting. “Are you going to call the cops again?”

Shay—the guy who I’d gotten myself in a shit-storm of trouble to find—stood right in front of me. And, I thought looking into those eyes, he was royally pissed off. At me.

Shit.