Hope was cold, she was sore, and she was pissed. The barn she’d been brought to was hardly airtight, and the wind crept through the various cracks and holes. The people who’d grabbed her had marched her up to a wooden chair and forced her down on it, tying her at the wrists and ankles, though she thought the chair was so rickety she could break it with a vigorous sneeze. Then they’d left her there, with two people to watch over her, and after what felt like hours, terror was replaced by tedium.

She’d panicked when they’d grabbed her and pushed her into a van that smelled like motor oil. In the first few moments, her mind had tossed out ridiculous suggestions. Ransom! Misguided environmentalists! Satanic ritual!

But two things almost immediately became clear. First, this was no band of highly trained kidnappers. Second, she didn’t think any one of them could organize a refrigerator raid.

The three other captors eventually returned to the barn, and they’d had a conference consisting largely of furious whispers. The five of them probably ranged in age from fifteen to twenty-five, but she had a hard time not thinking of them as “kids,” based on the constant bickering they engaged in.

They’d only driven for twenty minutes or so before reaching the barn, so they couldn’t have gone far, and they spent the entire time arguing about where to take her and what to do with her. Eventually they’d settled on this barn, which she’d bet wasn’t anywhere on the Golden Horse. Were these the neighbors Josh said mentioned having trouble with?

Suddenly, a voice rose out of the group.

“Ask her!”

“Ask me what?”

At the sound of her voice, five heads whipped around, as if they’d forgotten she could hear them. One of the boys, somewhere around the middle of the pack in age, stalked over to stand in front of her, kicking up dust and dirt as he went.

“Are you one of them?” he demanded. “Those shifter freaks?”

Hope’s mind raced as she tried to decide the best answer. Judging by the hate in his voice, he had a serious problem with shifters. If they’d intended to kidnap one, it wouldn’t have been for any good reason.

“No,” she replied. “I was just...visiting.” Her answer set off another furious round of whispering from the other four kids.

She’d picked up the ringleader’s name from eavesdropping. If she ignored the angry look on his face, he looked like he could have been one of the Farris grandchildren. Long-sleeved shirt, worn jeans, boots, and an air of wildness around him. “You’re Harry, right?”

He pointed a grubby finger at her. “You don’t talk unless I ask you a question.”

“Look,” she said, ignoring his command, “I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding. Why don’t you untie me, and we’ll forget about this.”

“I said don’t talk.” He reached into his pocket and drew out something dark and metallic. Something that reflected the light. Though she recognized it immediately, it still took her brain a second to comprehend.

A gun. He’d drawn a gun and had it in his shaking hand. Pointing at her.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet.” Her instinct was to babble, keep talking until she’d figured her way out of this, but she clamped her lips shut and tried not to hyperventilate. He kept the gun trained on her until he was satisfied she would be quiet, then shoved it back in his pocket and returned to the group.

“Just let her go!” insisted the same voice that had spoken up before.

“Shut up, Lindy,” Harry snapped. “It’ll still work even if she’s not a shifter. She’s probably someone’s girlfriend or cousin.”

“This was a stupid plan,” one of the others muttered. “I wouldn’t have even come along if I hadn’t been drunk.”

“Tough shit,” Harry said. “You’re here now. Now someone has to figure out how to get a message to one of those shifters. Unless any of you want to go knock on the front door.”

No one answered. From what Hope could tell, Harry was the leader because he was the pushiest and most stubborn, not necessarily because he was the smartest.

“Hey, lady.” Harry stalked back over to her. She couldn’t help looking at the pocket where he’d stashed the gun. If she were someone else, maybe she’d be able to figure out how to get loose and get her hands on the gun. But her life definitely hadn’t prepared her for this kind of predicament. Arguing with the hotel’s front desk about unauthorized pay-per-view charges, yes. Armed kidnappers, no.

Keeping in mind his earlier admonition not to talk, she just met his eyes and waited for him to continue.

“You said you’ve been visiting them,” Harry said.

“Yes,” Hope replied, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“But you’re not part of the family. So what are you? Someone’s girlfriend?”

“Something like that,” she agreed.

“What’s the best way to send them a message?”

Her mind raced through possibilities and discarded them. Josh would obviously notice when she didn’t return. How long would it take him to figure out what had happened? She knew that he would come for her, as surely as she knew her own name. And the others would help. If she was lucky, they’d arrive soon. All she had to do was stall for as much time as possible, while not antagonizing Harry.

She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she wasn’t lucky.

“Who do you want to talk to?” she asked. Maybe knowing that would help her determine the best strategy.

“Anyone! It doesn’t matter.”

“It has to matter,” she argued. “Is it Rick? Allison? Jennifer? Josh?”

“They’re all the same to me. Unnatural animals.” He turned his head and spat on the ground.

Hope took a deep breath. If she seemed calm, it might help Harry be calm too. “Maybe if you tell me what you want to say, I can help you figure out who you want to talk to.”

“It’s about the ranch.”

“The Golden Horse?”

“Yeah. It belongs to us.”

Hope struggled to comprehend. “Us? You...you mean your family?”

Harry’s face creased in anger and he charged closer, looming over her. “They stole it! They stole it, and we want it back.”

***

Josh had a hard time keeping his pace in check. He wanted to gallop as fast as he could to get to Hope, but they had to stay together. The ten-member herd behind him included Rick, Allison, Connor, and several of the largest shifters they had. The others had been left behind with strict instructions on when to call the sheriff and what to say.

He could see the barn in the distance, so he slowed down as a signal, and the herd came to a slow stop. Josh shifted to remind everyone of the plan.

“We approach as quietly as possible, to keep the element of surprise. Once we get within a hundred feet, Rick and I will increase to full speed and take the lead to break in the door that Allison told us about. When we’re inside, use your best judgment on whether to stay shifted or return to human. I doubt any of them will put up much of a fight, except for Harry. And he’s mine. Got it?”

Quiet snorts and head bobs answered him, and Rick sidled into him, throwing him briefly off balance. Knowing Rick, that meant Stop talking and start doing.

Horses weren’t really suited to sneaking around, but Josh did the best he could, placing his hooves carefully and trying to avoid hard ground where their footsteps would ring out. The half-full moon provided more light than Josh would have wanted, since some of the brighter coats like his were more visible. But this wasn’t a highly organized group they were dealing with, just a bunch of kids too dumb to set a guard. Even so, he wouldn’t relax until they’d taken the gun away from Harry Armstrong and he held Hope safe in his arms.

They reached the hundred-foot mark, and Josh paused for a second, fixing Allison’s description in his mind. A double door on the east side of the barn with rotted planks and rusty hinges. Hope, tied to a chair towards the middle, near an old tractor. He crooked his head around to make sure that everyone was ready to go, and then he charged.

He could hear Rick’s hoofbeats slightly behind him, but he focused on the barn as it grew larger in his vision. After a few seconds, he could see the door, with light leaking through the cracks. He thought he could smell the cheap cigarettes that Harry smoked, the scent growing stronger as they neared the barn. And then, in a flash, they were there.

Almost in unison, he and Rick slid to a stop in front of the door, pivoted on their hind legs, and unleashed devastating kicks. The rotten wood disintegrated as if a bomb had gone off, and the people inside let out terrified yells. Whirling around, Josh charged through the opening, ignoring the slight scrape of the wood splinters hanging from the hinges. He immediately looked for Hope, and to his horror, Harry stood right next to her chair, close enough that Josh couldn’t charge him without also knocking Hope over.

But maybe Harry didn’t realize that. With a furious scream that sounded like a bugle call, he began running towards Harry, who froze in panic. Josh had counted on him turning and running, putting some distance between him and Hope so that Josh could charge straight into him. Fortunately, he had a Plan B. Shifting in mid-stride, he carried his momentum through into his human form and tackled Harry with all the force of a thousand-pound stallion.

Harry went down under him as if he’d been clubbed with a two-by-four, and Josh landed with the point of his elbow in Harry’s solar plexus. While Harry wheezed and gasped for air, Josh looked around for Hope. Very sensibly, she’d thrown herself to the side, away from the two of them. The chair had broken apart when she hit the ground, and she was struggling to free herself from the wreckage.

“Gun!” she shouted at him. “In his right jacket pocket!”

Josh patted at Harry’s jacket and felt the rigid shape of the gun. He fumbled with it, and after a few tries, pulled it out of the pocket. Of course, now that he had it, what was he supposed to do with it? It was much smaller than the rifle he was used to, almost comically small. Harry hadn’t flicked off the safety, but it still would have hurt or even killed Hope if something had gone wrong. He tucked it into the back of his waistband, making sure to keep his elbow firmly planted in Harry’s stomach.

The noise behind him had died down, and a quick look showed him that the other four Armstrongs were under control. Most people had shifted back to human, but a few of his larger aunts and uncles had remained in horse form, presumably to intimidate the kids. And it seemed to be working well. He looked for Rick and spotted him near the door, pulling up Allison, who must have fallen at some point.

“Rick! Come over here and keep hold of this idiot.”

Rick picked his way through the wreckage that Josh had left in his wake and walked around to Harry’s side. When he was sure Rick had a good hold on Harry’s arm, Josh pushed himself up off the ground. He grabbed Harry’s other arm, and together, he and Rick pulled Harry to his feet.

“You got him?” he asked Rick, barely waiting for confirmation before rushing over to Hope. She’d shaken off the broken pieces of the chair, but the rope still bound her arms and legs. Pulling his pocket knife, he cut through the ropes and hissed with dismay when he saw the marks the rope had left on the fine skin of her wrists.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “Really.”

He wrapped her in a desperate embrace, which she returned with fervor, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. Her breath puffed against the skin of his neck. Surely she could feel the pounding of his heart, a heart that belonged only to her. “Thank God,” he murmured. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she repeated, sounding like she was trying to convince herself as well as him. He fought the urge to hold her even tighter.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, lips pressed to her hair.

“It’s not your fault.”

“You would never have been in this position if it wasn’t for me.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault.”

He shook his head, knowing that he’d never be able to forget the sight of her tied to a chair, pale with fright, with Harry Armstrong looming over her.

They clung to each other until Rick cleared his throat to attract their attention. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think it’s definitely time to get the sheriff involved.”

Josh released Hope and helped her to her feet. He didn’t want to let her go, but he contented himself with just holding her hand. “Allison,” he called to his aunt, “can you call the sheriff? Tell him to get out here immediately.”

“You got it,” Allison replied.

Rick was only holding Harry by the arm, but even though Harry was only a few inches shorter than Rick, the older man was substantially broader. Harry wasn’t going anywhere. Plus, it didn’t look like he had the heart to fight back. Instead of glaring at them defiantly, he was staring at the ground, looking lost. Josh turned on him in a rage.

“What the hell did you think you were doing, you idiot? Someone could have gotten killed!”

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt,” Harry mumbled.

“You’re lucky no one did!” he yelled. Harry flinched, and despite himself, Josh felt some of his anger ebb away. He made a pathetic figure, with his torn jeans and dirty face. “What were you thinking?”

“I just wanted to get the ranch back.”

“What?”

“The land that you stole from my grandfather.”

Josh met Rick’s gaze, and he was just as confused as Josh was. “No one stole anything, Harry.”

“Your family did! Everything used to belong to my grandfather and his family until you stole it!”

Rick shook his head. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. We’ve owned the Golden Horse for four generations.”

“Liars,” Harry spat out.

Josh tried to get him to explain, but Harry refused to say anything else.

“Fine,” Josh snapped. “You can wait until the sheriff gets here.” He refused to spend any more time focusing on Harry when his attention should be on Hope. His concern for her outweighed anything else.

He guided her away from Armstrong and wrapped his arms around her again. When he thought about losing her, never again having the chance to hold her softness against him, it tore him up inside. He wanted to shift and run for miles. He wanted to stay and take it out on Harry. He wanted to hide Hope away so she’d always be safe.

Flashing lights outside the barn signaled that Sheriff Mills and his deputies had arrived. And promptly, unlike the other times they’d called him. Josh guessed that the words “aggravated assault” might have had something to do with his response.

Mills headed to Rick rather than Allison or Josh, but Josh was just as happy that he didn’t have to tell the story. He stayed with Hope while the one of the deputies handcuffed Harry. Rick and the sheriff shook hands, and Rick laid out the bare bones of the story, gesturing at Hope and then Harry. Mills strolled over to where Josh and Hope were standing.

“Ms. Callahan? Joe Mills.”

Hope freed an arm from Josh’s embrace to take the sheriff’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sheriff Mills.”

“Call me Joe,” replied Mills.

Josh stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Mills was pouring on the charm, trying to do damage control on a situation he’d ignored for far too long.

“Rick explained what happened here tonight, but I’d appreciate it if I could hear it in your own words.”

“There’s not too much to say.” She straightened, and Josh reluctantly released her from his embrace.

“I was out for a walk a few hours ago, and someone grabbed me from behind. A few people, I guess. They put me into a van and drove me out here. When they pulled me out, they tied me to this chair.”

The sheriff had a pad out and was taking notes in messy, cramped handwriting. “Did they say what they wanted?”

Hope shook her head. “Not at first. After they brought me here, they argued for a while. Harry seemed to be the one in charge, and he came over to me and said that he wanted to talk to someone from the Golden Horse, because they’d stolen his family’s land.”

Mills motioned to his deputy, who guided a reluctant Harry over to where they were standing.

“You want to explain yourself, son?” he asked Harry.

“They stole it.”

“Yeah,” Josh snapped, at the end of his patience, “you keep saying that. What the hell do you mean? Why in God’s name do you think we stole your land?”

“My grandpa told me about it!” Harry shouted. “There was some court case. We lost, and you guys won. All that land you have used to be ours.”

Josh looked over at Rick. “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

Rick rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “If I remember correctly, there was a border dispute back in ‘55 or ‘56. The two families went to court over it, and it was pretty contentious. Eventually, a surveyor researched everything, and the judge ruled in our favor. I only heard about this years later, but it didn’t seem like that big a deal.”

“Yeah,” Mills agreed. “I do remember hearing something about that.”

Josh scoffed in disbelief. “A border dispute over what, a few feet of land?”

“More like a few thousand,” Rick replied.

“That’s still not the same thing as our parents and grandparents stealing the whole ranch from the Armstrongs.”

Harry fought against the deputy restraining him, the two of them scuffling around until Mills and the deputy got him back under control. “That’s not what happened! That’s not what he told me!”

Mills heaved a deep breath. “It’s not widely known, but Joe Armstrong was showing some signs of dementia before he passed away. I wonder if maybe he got confused, and a simple boundary dispute turned into something bigger in his mind.”

“And then he told that story to Harry, who knows how many times,” Josh said, finally starting to understand Harry’s thinking. “And when Joe died, Harry decided to try and get the land back.”

“Is that what happened, son?” Mills asked Harry. “You tried to make things right by driving the Farris family off their land?”

“I tried to do it without hurting anyone.”

“You broke the fences, set the fires,” Rick prodded.

Harry nodded. “But it wasn’t working. So I thought if I took one of you, you’d sign over the farm to get them back.”

Rick glanced over at Josh, and Josh knew exactly what that look meant. He’d seen variations of it when he’d done something particularly stupid. Harry wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. But it didn’t matter whether or not he was a criminal mastermind. He’d put Hope in danger.

“Look,” he said to Sheriff Mills. “It’s late, and Hope’s been through a lot. Can I take her home now?”

“I think we’re done for the night,” Mills agreed. “I’m sure we’ll have some more questions in the morning.”

Rick stepped closer, preventing Josh from telling the sheriff where he could stick his questions. “After Hope gets some rest, of course.”

“Of course,” said Mills.

“Come on,” Josh said to Hope, helping her walk around Mills, Harry, and the debris on the ground. She clung to him at first, then lessened her grip on his arm until she wasn’t touching him at all.

He’d thought things were going well with Hope, that they were growing closer. His family already loved her, and she’d seemed happy. But would she really want to live next to the Armstrong family, with every day a reminder of what she’d been through? Or would she be more comfortable back in Chicago, in the life she knew? The safe, quiet life she’d lived before meeting him.

He could only pray that this ordeal wouldn’t drive her away from him for good.