Полная версия
Tough To Tame
Ignoring the aches in her body, Carly let go of the tree, located three rocks that she stacked in a pile—surely she would recognize those rocks if she saw them again—and then set out walking.
By four that afternoon Jake was in a sweat. His path had crossed that of his men several times in their search, and no one had found even a clue as to Carly’s whereabouts.
He had reorganized the search at one point, telling some members of his crew to return to the compound and exchange their horses for pickup trucks. There were a lot of roads crisscrossing the ranch, and each and every one of them should be checked.
But he stuck to his horse, because the terrain of the vast ranch was so varied and much of it could only be reached on horseback. Peering into deep canyons and crevices was unnerving for Jake, because he was beginning to fear that Carly had run into trouble. His most consoling thought was that she had merely gotten lost and was aimlessly—and probably frighteningly—attempting to find her way back to the compound.
At moments, though, while riding and searching, Jake felt a searing anger. How dare she take a horse she knew nothing about and go off the way she had? She at least could have told Barney what she’d intended doing. Barney would have warned her against riding Goldie, and this whole thing would not have happened. If Carly was safe and sound when someone finally found her, Jake was going to give her hell in no uncertain terms, and she could call her dad and tattle or do anything else she felt like doing about it.
Around five Jake found himself near the foothills. He stopped his horse and frowned at the pine forests darkening the hills. Was Carly dumb enough to get herself lost in the forests? Jake’s heart sank. If she was in those trees, it could take days to find her. He glanced up at the sun; he still had two hours of full daylight and about another hour of fading light as the sun went down.
And then the thought that he’d been trying to keep at bay for hours would remain buried no longer: if Carly had run into that stallion she could be seriously injured, or even worse. The idea of phoning Stuart with that sort of news was so chilling that Jake couldn’t let himself dwell on it. Kicking his horse in the ribs, he headed up the nearest hill toward the pine trees.
Carly had returned to her little pile of rocks more times than she cared to count, and she’d had to start battling a developing fear. She was exhausted and had to rest awhile before trying yet another direction. She sat down with her back against a tree and shut her eyes.
She was so angry with herself that she could think of nothing else. You fool, you moron. How could you have gotten yourself into a mess like this? No one at the ranch has probably even missed you. All the men were out working when you left, and they’re probably still out on the range!
But when they did get back, wouldn’t someone notice that Goldie was gone? Surely Banyon was smart enough to figure out that she’d taken the palomino for a ride.
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