Reagan gripped the rifle in her hand as she ran. She had to be selective with her shots since ammunition was limited to whatever was left in the magazine. Reagan caught a glimpse of Miss Mambo forcing her way down the deer trail ahead. Limbs were broken, grass was trampled, and then Miss Mambo was once again out of sight.

Reagan felt she owed it to Suzanne to make sure Miss Mambo survived, and she swore right then that she and Carter would take care of Miss Mambo forever. That was, if they could get out of this alive. Reagan looked back over her shoulder briefly and saw Carter right behind her. His face was set in unwavering determination as they both breathed hard through their mouths as they ran.

The trees began to spread out as the woods became less dense. Since they were no longer closed in, more sunlight began to fill the shadows of the forest. The path grew wider and Carter closed in to run side-by-side with her. Reagan slowed as she looked around. “We must be coming closer to the base of the mountain. I think there’s some kind of clearing ahead.”

She took deep breaths as she pulled the sweat- and stream-soaked shirt from her body in hopes of cooling down. She was in shape, but running for her life through a hot and humid forest for two miles was not something you could train for in the gym.

Carter slowed next to her and put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. He raised his finger to his lips, and they both stopped to listen to the sounds of the woods. They could hear the clear sound of Mick racing toward them from a distance.

Reagan looked around. It was strange how idyllic the location was. Butterflies flitted about, sun streamed through the trees, and leaves danced along in the summer breeze. It would have been romantic and peaceful if not for the madman chasing them. Instead, she looked past the beauty and searched the area. With thinning trees, they were no longer hidden as well. There wasn’t a place to hide in time that would allow for an escape.

“Let’s see if we can find cover up ahead.” Reagan didn’t wait for Carter to agree. She took off, needing to see what was through the trees to better determine a place to take another shot at Mick. It was their best chance of getting out alive. Reagan pushed aside the fact she might have to kill someone. Her father had trained her to clear her mind—to do what needed to be done without hesitation. Reagan shoved her emotions deep inside her: the fear, the guilt, the overwhelming knowledge that she might take someone’s life, or worse, that she and Carter might lose theirs if she didn’t do that. Instead, she focused on the sound of the woods and every breath she took. She focused on her own energy and calmed her mind. Slowly a level of clarity unlike anything she’d ever experienced settled over her. Reagan knew what she had to do, and she was going to do it.

She had so much adrenaline coursing through her body it hummed. Her heart pounded and her lungs burned, but she felt no pain. Her ankle could be broken and she wouldn’t have known it. And when she burst out of the trees and into the open, she let her body’s momentum carry her down the five-foot embankment and into the narrow offshoot of the stream they’d been following. The stream was shallow and dotted with large limestone rocks standing two or three feet tall scattered throughout it. The stream was surrounded on each side by five-foot embankments that cut a swath through the woods. Their options were to either run right or left and back into the woods, or to cross the stream. Thick trees stood tall and strong on either side that could provide enough cover for her to make a stand with her rifle. She’d already made her decision without pausing in her stride.

Carter splashed through the stream behind her. Reagan’s thighs burned as she sprinted up and over the moss, grass, and stone-littered embankment. Relief and victory flooded her as she reached the top. They were going to make it.

“Carter, we’re—“

But then she heard Mick close behind them. “Stop or I’ll kill him!”

Reagan leapt behind the nearest tree. Her back slammed against the rough bark as she quickly turned her head to look for Carter. But he wasn’t beside her. Reagan slowly leaned her head around the thick trunk and looked out. Carter was halfway up the embankment with his hands up. He couldn’t have been more than five feet behind her. They had been so close.

Mick was across the stream standing on top of the embankment with a pistol he must have had hidden on him, leveled on Carter. Carter never turned around to face Mick. Instead, he kept his eyes glued on hers. “Go,” he mouthed, but Reagan wouldn’t leave him. There was no way she could do that. She needed to buy enough time to come up with a plan.

“Come out, Reagan, or I’ll shoot him.” Mick yelled. Carter shook his head ordering her to stay hidden.

“Run,” Carter mouthed again.

Reagan shook her head and ducked behind the tree, pressing her rifle tightly to her chest. If she could get a shot off . . . She looked around the tree again and found that Mick was similarly using a large tree at the top of the embankment to shield most of his body. But his arm with the gun aimed at Carter was clearly visible.

“What assurance do I have you won’t kill him the second I come out?” Reagan called as the sound of twigs breaking and birds flying off in the distance caught her attention. Reagan turned from watching Carter and Mick and looked into the woods that would have been her escape. She saw figures moving slowly toward her. Reagan squinted as her brothers came into view along with a man she didn’t know. Her cousin Ryan and DeAndre were also there.

She held up her hand to stop them. Using her chest, with her back pressed against the tree to hide any hand movement from Mick’s view, she indicated to her rescue crew that Mick was right behind her. Porter and Parker met her eyes, and she looked right and then left. Without question Porter split off to the right and Parker to the left as they slowly crept through the woods.

At the sound of a gasp, Reagan looked farther behind her rescuers to see her mother coming over a hill that had previously hidden her from view. Her mom was sweaty and her hair was plastered to her face as she stood with a rifle in her hands. Reagan’s eyes went wide in warning to her mother as the man she didn’t know spun around and silently stopped her mother and . . . Ava? Why was Dr. Ava there? Was half of Keeneston in the woods? Either way, the man she didn’t know stopped them both, which made Reagan grateful. She didn’t need to worry about her mother storming out into the clearing and getting shot.

“You’ll have to trust me, Reagan,” Mick called out.

“Trust you?” Reagan laughed. “Like Suzanne Bristol trusted you before you murdered her?”

“That was just business. It wasn’t personal.”

“Business? Is that what you call bilking a widow out of hundreds of thousands of dollars on a horse? Miss Mambo is a sweet horse, but we both know her value is a tenth of what you had Suzanne pay for her. Are you going to kill Miss Mambo now since that failed when you crashed the plane?” Reagan yelled out as she watched Ryan, DeAndre, and the man slowly getting closer to her. Ryan made a motion to keep Mick talking while they were bent almost in half to keep from his view. They were so close Reagan could almost hear them breathing. She wanted to run to them. She wanted to hug them, but she couldn’t. She had to save Carter. She needed to buy more time for Porter and Parker to get into position.

“Sadly, yes. I need that insurance money. My partner and I have big plans for the future. He’s going to be pissed enough at you for screwing this up. You’re lucky it’s me and not him here. He’d kill you slowly. Now, your fiancé must be getting tired standing there with his hands up in the air. If I were him, I would rethink the wedding if the woman who supposedly loves him won’t save his life by simply stepping out from behind that tree.”

“What are you going to do when you can see me? Aren’t I just business too? And we both know what you do for a job. You kill people and innocent horses. You killed Suzanne, you killed Diego, and you’re going to kill us.” Reagan pleaded with her eyes for Ryan, DeAndre, and the man to move quicker.

“Business is business, and business is doing well. So yeah, a couple of people and a couple of horses die here and there.”

“You’re not going to pull this off, Mick. How are you going to explain us dead in the woods and only you alive?” Reagan shouted out her question.

“Someone was after us and we ran for our lives. We were separated. I even got shot,” Mick said, his voice full of fear. It was actually convincing. No wonder he could bilk smart women out of their money.

“I tried to play nice with you, Reagan, but no more questions. I’m done playing. Come out or I’ll shoot Carter in three seconds.” Mick’s voice had dropped to a deadly dangerous tone. Her time was up. She only hoped she could pull the move off.

Reagan turned sideways so her left shoulder was against the tree trunk and leaned the rifle against the tree out of Mick’s sight. “Okay, I’m coming out. Don’t shoot.”

“Where’s my rifle?”

“Back in the stream. I slipped right after I tried to shoot, and it tumbled into the stream. I wasn’t expecting the kickback,” Reagan lied.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem shooting me. Let me see your hands,” Mick ordered, and Reagan stuck them out and took a slow, small step away from the tree.

Reagan turned and faced Mick, making sure her left hand was still within reach of the hidden rifle. She looked down at Carter who was begging her with his eyes to save herself and then back at Mick’s arm with the gun in it. Mick slowly stepped out from behind his tree with a smirk on his face. He thought he was the victor. If neither she nor her rescuers could get a clear shot, he still might be. Even if she shot him, Mick could shoot Carter, and it would be no victory for her.

“If it matters, I wasn’t aiming for you,” Reagan said with a shrug. “I was aiming for the tree next to you. I wanted to scare you, but when I fired, the gun slammed into my shoulder and pulled to the side. Can I at least kiss my fiancé one last time?”

Mick snorted. “You should have let Carter take the shot, but your stupidity is my gain. I’ll give you one last moment to say goodbye to each other. Look on the positive side, this is a beautiful graveyard to be buried in.”

“Carter, I’m scared. Kiss me one last time.” Reagan didn’t need to fake the tears coming to her eyes as Mick began to slowly stalk down the embankment. Carter took a tentative step forward and when Mick didn’t stop him, he raced the remaining few feet to wrap Reagan in his arms. For that one moment her body relaxed, her mind cleared, and the warmth and love from Carter’s embrace gave her the courage to do what she must.

Reagan felt his breath hitch when he looked behind her. “How close are they?” she whispered.

“They’re lying on the ground four feet away,” Carter spoke directly in her ear.

“We’re going to kiss and then we’re going to go down on our knees as close to the this tree as possible. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Carter kissed her as if it were their last kiss and Reagan hoped it wouldn’t be. The kiss reached into Reagan’s soul with love and loss.

“Enough,” Mick ordered. He stood eight feet away at the base of the embankment on the other side of the stream. He took a slow step forward into the shallow water, marching menacingly, slowly toward them.

Carter reached for Reagan’s hand as he turned to face Mick with her. She squeezed his hand, hardly feeling it as she went down on her knees in the soft mossy mud at the top of the embankment. As she went down, she moved closer to the tree. The gun was right there. She needed a distraction. Reagan pulled her hand from Carter’s and hoped by kneeling they wouldn’t be blocking Ryan and DeAndre’s line of fire. Or her own. The gun was right there . . .

“I’m sorry you won’t have a life together.” Mick grinned and raised his gun. “But you’ll be together in death. Isn’t that romantic?”

If Reagan was going to die anyway, then she might as well die taking a chance. She lifted her arms out from her sides, her palms facing Mick . . . and her rifle. Her fingers brushed the rifle leaning up against the tree. Mick placed his finger on the trigger. Reagan’s fingers closed around her rifle. She felt the cool steel pressing into her hand as she yanked it toward her. Mick’s lips thinned in surprise as he turned the pistol from Carter toward her. He was going to shoot her and Reagan hadn’t been able to get her own rifle lined up yet. But then a forty-five-pound rust-colored dog with a glittering pink collar and a mouthful of pearly white teeth leapt from the top of the embankment onto Mick’s back. Shots were fired, Robyn yelped, and Gemma let loose a blood-curdling scream.