All the while the Explorer, tires crunching over the snow, reached the end of the lane, wheels turning, the headlights intense as they splashed over the face of the farmhouse and garage.

Freaked out of her mind, Willow silently screamed. Her leg ached, and she realized she’d probably left a trail of blood in the snow . . . well, too bad. She just had to get out of here.

Before James—

The door of the detached garage rumbled open, light spilling from inside.

She didn’t dare breathe.

He drove his SUV inside, then cut the engine.

She inched to the corner of the shed and carefully sneaked a peek.

She heard the Explorer’s door open, then close with a thud.

Her heart was clamoring, and she bit her lip just as he stepped out of the garage. Her heart clutched at the sight of him. So tall, so handsome. He strode across the yard to the front steps.

His dog too was out of the Ford and streaking to the front yard, where he cut wild circles in the snow while the garage door rolled downward, destroying the light as it settled with a clunk.

Willow let out her breath. In a few minutes, she would be able to slink away from here in the darkness and—

Snap!

Snap!

What?

The sharp noise came from behind the shed.

Scared spitless, she searched the darkness surrounding the back of the shed, then the rows of firs lining the far side of the yard.

Nothing.

Then what the hell was that noise?

An animal? Coyote? Wolf? Puma?

Or had the sound been human? Someone stepping on a twig?

From the front yard, the dog let out a soft whine.

No!

She turned her attention back to the house.

Ten yards away, the shepherd was staring straight at her, eyes focused on the corner of the shed where she was cowering.

His dark ears were pricked forward, his nose in the air, his eyes seeming to lock with hers.

Oh. God.

Go away! Just go away!

Jesus Christ, she was surrounded!

Willow’s heart leapt to her throat.

The shepherd began to whine louder, advancing slowly, tail low.

Her insides turned to water.

She couldn’t outrun him, even if her ankle wasn’t throbbing, her bruised shin on fire. And where would she flee to? Backward to whatever danger was lurking beyond the trees?

Please, dog, just let me be!

She tried to pull back, duck away.

Too late!

The dog bolted.

Growling and snarling, he came, running straight at her.

No! No! No!

Willow braced herself.

A piercing whistle cut through the night.

Then the sharp command, “Ralph! Come!”

She waited, shivering, rooted to the spot.

“Leave the damned squirrels, would ya?” James ordered.

The dog whined but didn’t round the shed.

“Come!” This time louder. More authoritative.

Oh, please . . .

She waited.

Nothing.

Swallowing hard, she took a quick glance around the edge of the shed.