Free Kidnapped Colt by Terri Farley Page A

lead.”
    â€œYou’re sure?” he said, and the accusation in his words suddenly made sense.
    â€œOh my gosh, Ryan didn’t bully me into helping him,” she said. “Ryan’s not that way.”
    â€œNever be too sure, Samantha. It’s hard to tellwhat people will do when they’re desperate.”
    For a minute, Sam heard nothing but the tires on the road.
    â€œIt was my filly,” she said, finally. “Dallas saw it happen and Gram bandaged it for me. Ryan was actually a little worried about it.”
    In the car’s dimness, the sheriff nodded.
    â€œRyan might be a fine kid. Maybe he just needs to cowboy up a little bit,” the sheriff said a few miles later.
    Cowboy up , Sam thought. The expression made her smile even before Sheriff Ballard added, “You know, quit whinin’ and do what needs to be done. I’d like to think that’s the only problem,” the sheriff continued, “but he told you he’d spring these horses by nightfall, Sam, and now he’s gone. He’s four hundred miles away, for the best part of the week.”
    â€œI don’t know why he did that,” Sam said. Even to her, her voice sounded small inside the rushing police car.
    â€œBecause he knows you’re the kind of girl who’d do the wrong thing, if it’s for the right reason.” He paused, letting his words sink in before adding, “He left you holding the bag, Samantha.”
    â€œI know.”
    Sam stared out the window, into the darkness. In that moment, she gave up on Ryan Slocum, for good.
    Only the horses mattered now.
    Â 
    In the gloomy dusk, Sam almost missed the spot where Ryan had fought so hard to unhitch the trailer.
    â€œThere it is,” Sam said, pointing, but as the sheriff pulled over and parked, she noticed the trailer was open.
    Panic vaulted up in Sam’s chest.
    â€œI know it probably doesn’t matter,” she said, quickly, “but the trailer was latched. The handle on the door…” she gestured, showing how Ryan had shoved it into place.
    That didn’t make sense. She and Ryan were the only ones who’d known the trailer was here. After he’d dropped her off at River Bend Ranch, could he have come back and put the horses inside? Had there been time for him to do that before the private plane arrived for him and Rachel?
    Sam jumped out of the police car.
    â€œDon’t touch it, Sam,” the sheriff said before she could close her door. “Let me.”
    Fidgeting, Sam watched the sheriff tug a handkerchief from his pocket, but the trailer was silent. She knew the horses weren’t inside.
    Using the handkerchief to cover his hand, the sheriff opened the trailer door farther. Of course it was empty.
    Karl Mannix drove up in the bright-yellow Hummer, lowered his window, and chuckled at the pains the sheriff was taking not to smear fingerprints.
    â€œJust gonna check out this trailer, then Sam and I’ll walk up and see that the horses are safe. We’ll bring ’em back down.”
    â€œHow far up is it?” Mannix nodded to the trail.
    The sheriff turned, passing the question to Sam.
    â€œAbout a mile,” she said. “It’s a rough walk, but not very long.”
    â€œShoot, we can get up there in the Hummer. No need to walk,” Karl boasted.
    â€œLet’s not rip up the trail,” the sheriff said.
    â€œIt’s nothing but weeds and dirt,” Karl insisted.
    Sam stared at the vehicle Karl wanted to take up the hill. The Hummer was as big as an apartment on wheels. It could crush squirrel burrows, demolish deerpaths, and terrify mustangs. Even if the wildlife escaped, the plants they lived on would be ripped and mashed.
    â€œDon’t want to take a chance on scaring the horses off, if they’ve broken out,” the sheriff added. “They’ll probably head downhill, toward home.”
    â€œYou’re the expert,” Karl