CHAPTER THREE
Nell Bishop flipped the braid off her shoulder and surveyed the yard. Everything was ready for Ruth’s surprise party. The Moorhouse sisters, both retired schoolteachers, were keeping her mother-in-law occupied in town. Knowing Edwina and Lily, they’d take their assignment seriously. The last Nell heard, they’d planned a visit to the library, followed by a little birthday celebration at Dovie Boyd’s antique shop. Dovie had recently added the Victorian Tea Room, and each afternoon at three, she served tea and scones. Sometimes she added cucumber sandwiches and a small glass—or two—of the Moorhouse sisters’ special cordial, which she made from a recipe handed down by their maternal grandfather.
Nell gathered that the sandwiches tended to be dry but the cordial was well worth the price of admission. The Moorhouse sisters would bring her back at the start of the festivities. All three would probably be a little tipsy and in a fine party mood.
It was time the Bishop family did a bit of celebrating. Jake wouldn’t have wanted them to spend the rest of their lives grieving. Things had been difficult for Nell since her husband’s death, but with Ruth’s help she’d managed to hold on to the ranch.
“Mom, where do you want me to put the potato chips?” Jeremy called from the back porch steps. Her eleven-year-old son stood with a huge bowl in his hands, awaiting her instructions.
“Set it on the first picnic table,” she answered, pointing at the line of five covered tables that stretched across the freshly groomed yard. She’d spent half the day spiffing up the flower beds and mowing the grass and the other half cooking. Fried chicken, her special recipe for chili, a smorgasbord of salads, plus a huge homemade birthday cake.
Jeremy carried the bowl to the table, then promptly helped himself to a handful. Nell bit her tongue to keep from admonishing him not to spoil his dinner. This was a celebration and she wasn’t going to ruin it by scolding her children. Both Jeremy and nine-year-old Emma had been helpful and cooperative, as excited about the party as she was herself.
Jeremy’s hand stopped midway to his mouth and he cast a guilty look at his mother.
“All I ask is that you save some for the guests.”
He nodded, smiling hugely. “We got plenty.”
How like Jake her son was. She couldn’t look at him and not be reminded of the only man she’d ever loved. They’d grown up together, she and Jake, and Nell knew from the time she’d first started thinking about boys that one day she’d marry Jake Bishop. It had taken him several years to reach the same conclusion, but men were often slower when it came to figuring out these things.
Both Nell and Jake were tall and big-boned. Nell was nearly six feet by the time she stopped growing. She had the kind of looks that were usually described as handsome, not pretty. And certainly not cute. The only man she’d ever known who hadn’t been intimidated by her size—or treated her like one of the boys—had been Jake, and that was because he was six feet four inches himself.
Jake had taught her the wonders of being feminine. They’d had almost ten years together, and she’d treasured every one of them. Some folks expected her to remarry, but she’d yet to meet the man who could match the husband she’d lost. Nell wasn’t willing to accept second best, not after loving Jake.
For the first year after Jake’s death in a tractor accident she’d felt cheated and angry. It had taken her another year to accept his death and to reshape her life now that her husband was gone. With his mother’s love and support she’d been able to keep the ranch, raise her kids, plan for the future.
She was a good cook, an able manager and, thanks to Jake, knew a great deal about ranching. More than she’d ever wanted to learn, in fact. The time had come to put all that knowledge to good use.
The party was to serve a dual purpose. To celebrate Ruth’s birthday of course. And also to announce that she was opening her doors and turning Twin Canyon into a dude ranch. By the end of next year she hoped to be giving a group of greenhorns a taste of the real Texas.
Her research had shown that the cowboy era was alive and well in the minds of adventurous Americans. The travel agents she’d spoken with had assured her they could fill the bunkhouse with tourists eager to spend their vacation dollars learning about life in the Old West.
And Nell was just the one to teach them. She’d feed them her chili, get them on the back of a horse and demonstrate how to herd a few head of cattle. Take them on a trail drive—like in the movie City Slickers. And after all that, she’d gladly accept their credit cards.
“Mom!” Emma called, her freckled face smeared with frosting from the birthday cake. “Should I put the candles in now?”
“Not yet.”
“Hey!” Jeremy hollered. “I was supposed to lick the beaters!” He grabbed a fresh supply of potato chips, apparently to compensate for the frosting he’d missed.
“Wash your face,” Nell instructed her daughter. “I need your help out here.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy said with an air of superiority. “Help Mom.”
“I am,” Emma insisted. “I tasted the frosting to make sure it was good.”
Despite herself, Nell laughed. “Come on, you two. The party’s going to start soon and I want all the food on the tables, ready for the buffet.” She headed for the house to collect paper plates and napkins.
“Will Grandma be surprised?” Emma asked.
Nell knew how hard it had been for her daughter to keep the birthday party a secret. “Very,” she promised. “And Grandma’s going to have a wonderful time. We all are.”
She was sure of it.
***
The birthday party was already in full swing when Ellie and Richard arrived. People clustered about the yard, talking in small groups. There was an air of joy and festivity that Ellie found infectious. Party sounds—laughter, animated conversation and music—were everywhere. Ellie began to hope she might actually enjoy herself the way she used to.
She glanced around and realized she was looking for Glen. Although she’d agreed to attend the party with Richard Weston, she wished now that she’d turned him down.
She hadn’t seen Glen in three days. Not since he’d kissed her. Hadn’t heard from him, either. While it wasn’t unusual for them to go a week or longer without talking to each other, for some reason this three-day stretch felt more like three months.
She had no intention of mentioning the kiss, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been thinking about it. As a matter of fact, she’d thought of little else, and she wondered if the incident weighed as heavy on Glen’s mind as it did hers.
Probably not.
“I should have brought my guitar,” Richard said, pressing his hand against her back as he steered her into the yard.
Richard had a fairly good singing voice and he’d entertained a crowd at his welcome-home party a few months earlier. He seemed quite impressed with his musical talent—excessively so, in Ellie’s opinion. Although his voice was pleasant, it would assure him a position in the church choir but nowhere else.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?” he asked.
“Twice,” she murmured. One thing about Richard, he was a charmer. His remarks were nice to hear, but she didn’t take them seriously.
“I’m pleased to see you’re keeping track of how often I say it,” he muttered with a tinge of sarcasm.
Ellie gave him a sharp look. She was well aware of the kind of man Richard Weston was. She’d seen him in action and had to admire his skill. He issued his compliments with just enough wonder in his voice to sound sincere. Some women might believe him, but she wouldn’t allow herself to be deluded. She also suspected that Richard didn’t like her perceptiveness.
Ellie was delighted to see that Nell had gotten the big turnout she’d wanted. No one ever came right out and said it, but the town was proud of Nell Bishop. They were attending this party as much for her as for Ruth. Folks wanted Nell to know they respected the way she’d managed to keep the ranch in operation. The way she’d stood against popular opinion and refused to sell. At the first sign of financial difficulty, a lot of well-meaning friends had suggested she get rid of the ranch. Ellie wasn’t sure she would have advised otherwise, but Nell had insisted on keeping the small spread. It had been her husband’s heritage; now it was her children’s. More than that, Ellie realized, the ranch was part of Jake, and Nell had deeply loved her husband.
“Help yourself to a plate,” Richard urged as they neared the picnic tables. Ellie surveyed the wide assortment of hot dishes and salads. From the look of it, Nell had cooked everything herself.
A card table was stacked with brightly wrapped birthday presents, and Ellie added hers to the pile. Busy seeing to some other guests, Nell waved a hand in greeting and Ellie waved back. Ruth sat in the seat of honor, a rocking chair, with her friends circled around her. The older woman, who was normally quiet and reserved, appeared to relish being the center of attention. Jeremy and Emma raced about the yard with several other children in hot pursuit.
“You ready to eat?” Richard asked, sounding as if it’d been at least a year since he’d last sat down to a decent meal.
“Sure.” Ellie reached for a paper plate and suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, caught sight of Glen. She turned slightly and noticed that he sat under the shade of an oak tree chatting with Grady Weston. He seemed to see her at the same time, and their eyes locked and held for an embarrassingly long moment. Any other time she would’ve waved and gestured for him to save her a place. But not now. Instead, she pretended she hadn’t seen him and proceeded down the buffet line.
Apparently Richard was aware of the moment and staked his claim by sliding his arm about her waist and nuzzling her neck. Ellie didn’t dare look in Glen’s direction for fear of what he’d think.
“Richard,” she murmured under her breath. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” he asked. “I can’t help if it I find you irresistible.”
“Yeah, right.” What he found her, Ellie surmised, was a trophy. The victor’s spoils, to wave beneath Glen’s nose. Although close in age, Richard and Glen had never been friendly, and while they weren’t openly hostile to each other, there was no love lost, either.
Ellie filled her plate and tried to ignore Richard as he added a spoonful of this and that, insisting she sample every dish. Considering all the attention he paid her, anyone might have assumed they were a longtime couple. All this solicitude embarrassed her.
“Would you kindly stop?” she said, and despite her displeasure, she laughed at the woebegone look he wore.
“I can’t help myself,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful woman here.” Ellie just shook her head.
They found an empty space on the grass, shaded by the house. The scent of freshly mowed lawn and a row of blooming roses mingled with the sights and sounds of the party.
Far more aware of Glen than she wanted to be, Ellie talked nervously, telling Richard about her week. He didn’t pay much attention until she mentioned the old family Bible she’d found among her father’s things.
“How old did you say it was?”
“More than a hundred years,” Ellie answered. Although there were a number of dates entered in the Bible, she wasn’t sure when it had first been purchased.
“Your ancestors were part of the original group that settled in Bitter End?”
“From what I understand they were.”
“Have you ever been there?” Richard surprised her by asking next.
The question was ridiculous. No one had, no one she knew, anyway. Bitter End was a mysterious almost mythical town people whispered about. Its location remained a secret, and despite her childhood curiosity, her father had told her very little. But as far as she could figure, there simply wasn’t that much to tell. The town had been settled shortly after the Civil War and for unknown reasons was later abandoned. A scattering of the original settlers—Ellie’s ancestors among them—then founded Promise.
Richard’s eyes darted around as if to gauge whether anyone was listening in on their conversation. “I’ve been to Bitter End,” he whispered dramatically. “Not that long ago, either.”
“Get out of here!” It was all a joke and she wasn’t going to fall for it. If she did, he’d laugh at her for believing him, and she didn’t want to be the brunt of his teasing remarks.
His eyes narrowed and he bent toward her. “I’m serious, Ellie.”
If Bitter End was anywhere in the vicinity, people would be flocking to it—ghost towns were fascinating, this one particularly so because of the mystery surrounding the original settlers’ departure.
“Have you noticed that people don’t talk about it much?” he asked, lowering his voice again. He made it sound as though the residents of Promise had conspired to keep the town a secret—to which he held the key.
Ellie frowned, unwilling to play his nonsensical game.
“It isn’t called a ghost town for nothing.” Richard shivered as if a sudden chill had raced up his spine.
“Richard,” she snapped, “if this is a joke, I’m not amused.”
His expression was earnest as he shook his head. “I swear to you on my parents’ grave I’m serious.”
“You’ve seen Bitter End yourself?” Even now she wasn’t sure she should believe him.
“Yes,” he insisted. “So have others.”
“Who?” She didn’t know anyone who’d been to the ghost town, and she’d spent her entire life in Promise.
“Glen Patterson for one.”
Now she knew he was joking. Glen was her best friend, and he would certainly have mentioned this if it was true.
Richard must have read the doubt in her eyes because he added, “He found it, along with my brother and Cal, when he was a kid. If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself.”
Ellie intended on doing exactly that.
“When were you last there?” she asked, still feeling suspicious.
“Recently.”
“How recently?”
“This week.”
Ellie’s curiosity went into overdrive. “You’d better not be razzing me, Richard.”
“I swear it’s the truth.”
“Will you take me there?”
He hesitated.
“Richard, you can’t tell me about Bitter End and then refuse to show it to me! What’s it like? Where is it? Are any of the old buildings still standing? And how in heaven’s name did you find it?”
Chuckling, he held up his hand to stop her. “Whoa! One question at a time.”
“All right,” she said, her heart pounding with excitement. She wanted to see this place. Her father’s great-grandparents had settled there. It was in Bitter End that they’d buried their five-year-old son, the child whose name was in the old Bible.
“How’d you ever find it?” she asked again.
“It wasn’t easy,” he said, licking his fingertips and seeming to savor her attention as much as he did Nell’s fried chicken. “I knew it was real because I’d heard…the others talk about it years ago, but they refused to tell me where it was. So I started looking on my own a few weeks ago—and I found it.”
“Why wouldn’t they tell you?”
“For the same reason I’m not telling you.”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” She wasn’t going to let him pull that on her.
“Ellie,” he murmured, his gaze pinning hers, “it’s haunted.”
“I ain’t afraid of no ghosts,” she teased, quoting the popular movie Ghostbusters.
Always quick with a laugh or a smile, Richard revealed neither. “I’m not joking.”
“I’m not, either. I want you to take me there.”
He shook his head, obviously regretting that he’d ever brought up the subject. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Then I’ll have Glen take me.”
Richard’s face hardened. “It’s dangerous there, Ellie. Anything can happen. I wouldn’t feel right about taking you to someplace like Bitter End.”
“I don’t care. I want to see it. Just once,” she pleaded.
Again he hesitated.
“Please?” she asked softly.
Richard sighed, and Ellie’s gaze drifted to Glen, partly because she was curious about what he was doing, but also as a subtle message. If Richard wouldn’t take her, odds were she could convince Glen to.
“All right, all right,” he muttered irritably.
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Tomorrow?”
Richard looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I…I don’t know.”
“We’ll make a day of it,” she coaxed, eager to explore the old town. Besides, Richard might change his mind if she didn’t act quickly.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“Why not?”
“Ellie, you don’t seem to understand how serious this is. It was a mistake to mention it in the first place.”
“Okay,” she said, knowing that if she didn’t agree he’d never take her there. “I won’t tell anyone else.”
“I want your word of honor,” Richard insisted. “I’m not kidding, Ellie. The place is dangerous, and I don’t want some fool kid to break his neck because you let word out. The minute kids around here know about it, you can bet someone’s going to get hurt. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
Ellie didn’t want it on hers, either. “You have my word, Richard.”
He nodded, apparently accepting her promise. “I’ll take you tomorrow afternoon, then. Be ready by two.”
***
Despite his best intentions, Glen couldn’t keep his eyes off Ellie and Richard. They sat huddled together, their heads close, deep in conversation. He would’ve sworn Ellie was too smart to be taken in by a charlatan like Richard Weston. Okay, so maybe Richard was on the level—Glen didn’t really know, for Grady was as reluctant to talk about his brother as he was about everything else.
“Looks like Ellie and Richard might have more in common than I realized,” Glen muttered. He noted the concerned expression on Grady’s face.
“I’d say she’s pretty vulnerable right now,” Grady commented. He seemed to be asking Glen to keep an eye on Ellie. “Someone needs to watch out for her.”
Glen’s own concerns mounted. He didn’t like the way those two were gazing at each other—as though nobody else was around. In fact, it bothered him. Really bothered him.
“How good a friend are you?” Grady asked.
“Good.” Good enough for him to kiss her, Glen mused. Not just any kiss, either, but one that had damn near knocked his socks off. He’d thought of little else for three days and three sleepless nights. Every time he closed his eyes she was there in his mind, and damn it all, he found himself wanting to kiss her again.
He worried that he’d ruined their friendship, and from her reaction when she arrived at the party, that looked all too likely. As for the way things were developing between her and Richard—well, he didn’t trust Grady’s younger brother, not one bit. The guy was too glib, too smooth. And that was only the half of it.
Glen had heard from Cal how Grady got stuck with the bill for Richard’s welcome-home party. It was all a misunderstanding, Richard claimed, but Glen would bet his last dollar Grady’d never see that money again.
Some time later, when the opportunity presented itself, Glen made his way over to Ellie. Richard was preoccupied singing a jazzed-up version of “Happy Birthday” to Ruth. Glen never did trust a man who craved being the center of attention. Anyone else would have asked Ruth to stand up, would have made her the focus. Not Richard. He had everyone gather around him, and it seemed to Glen he treated Ruth’s birthday like an afterthought, like a mere pretext for his own performance. Typical. Richard sure hadn’t changed.
“Nice party,” he said, strolling casually to Ellie’s side.
She stood at the edge of the group and Glen was grateful she hadn’t taken a front-row seat to Richard’s antics. Grady’s brother had plenty of other admirers at the moment and seemed to have forgotten his date. Glen, however, resisted pointing this out to Ellie. “Good news about Nell and her dude ranch,” he said, instead.
“Sure is,” Ellie responded. “I really think she can make it work.”
“Yeah. Nell can do it if anyone can.”
Ellie nodded. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Me, too.”
“I noticed,” he said, thinking about the way she’d cozied up to Richard.
Ellie laughed. “You sound jealous.”
“Not me.” He raised both hands in a dismissive gesture, then realized she was making an effort to put their relationship back on its previous footing. “But I could be,” he said, falling into the easy banter they’d so often exchanged.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Her smile was like a splash of sunshine, and Glen felt a rush of relief. She was as determined as he was to forget that stupid kiss. “You’re a good friend, Ellie.”
“Not as good as I’d hoped.”
His heart went still. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t tell me about Bitter End,” she accused him, turning to meet his eyes.
“What?” He hadn’t been to the ghost town since he was a teenager, and once was enough. There was something dangerous about that place—and he wasn’t thinking about the abandoned wells, either.
“Who told you?” he demanded, although the answer was obvious.
“Richard.”
“Listen, Ellie,” he said, gripping her elbow. He longed to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her, but he knew she wouldn’t listen and he’d hurt his cause more than help it. “I’d forget about Bitter End if I were you.”
“Why should I? This is the most exciting thing I’ve heard in ages. My father’s great-grandparents belonged to the first group of settlers, you know.” She paused and studied him. “Glen, what’s so bad about this town? Why doesn’t anyone talk about it? If you know where it is and other people do, too, why is it a deep dark secret?”
Glen wasn’t sure how to explain it to her, especially since he didn’t fully understand it himself. All he could remember was the eerie sense of danger and oppressiveness he’d experienced the one and only time he’d been there. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen at the time. Cal, Grady and he had inadvertently overheard their parents discussing the old town and decided to locate it on their own. It’d taken them weeks to find it, but instead of feeling a sense of triumph and elation after their first visit, they’d been terrified. They’d hardly spoken of it since.
“I don’t want you going there,” he ordered, rather than answer her questions. The second those words left his lips, Glen recognized his mistake. Ellie wasn’t going to take kindly to anyone telling her what she could or couldn’t do.
“Too late. Richard’s driving me there tomorrow afternoon.”
“No, he’s not.” Even knowing he was digging himself in deeper didn’t prevent Glen from blurting it out.
“You don’t have any right to tell me that.”
“Ellie, listen to me—”
“I’ve heard everything I care to hear. I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” he said, his mind spinning. He realized that the thought of Ellie in that deserted town frightened him. All his protective instincts snapped into place—instincts he’d never associated with Ellie. “I don’t want you going there.”
“You’re being ridiculous. You found it, and now I want to see it, too. It was okay for you, but not for me? I don’t accept that, Glen.”
“If you value our friendship, you won’t go.”
Ellie looked at him as though she’d never seen him before, and once again Glen realized he’d said it all wrong. “If you value my opinion…” he altered hurriedly, but he could see it was already too late.
“I don’t think I know you any longer,” she whispered. It wasn’t her words as much as the way she said them, in a hurt voice that vibrated with doubts.
He’d known it was going to happen, had worried about it for days. He just hadn’t thought it’d be so soon. That kiss really had ruined everything. Every shred of closeness they’d once shared was gone. They seemed incapable of even the most basic communication.
“Fine,” he said, furious with himself and taking it out on her. “Go ahead and do as you like. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Having botched the entire conversation, he whirled around and walked away. Ellie would discover everything she needed to know about Bitter End soon enough. But she wouldn’t have him standing guard over her when she did.
***
“You ready?” Richard asked, entering the feed store fifteen minutes past the time they’d agreed to meet.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” The argument with Glen weighed heavily on her mind. She’d considered phoning Richard to beg off, but she refused to allow Glen to tell her what to do. She had as much right as anyone else to visit Bitter End.
Richard laughed. “Just remember you’re the one who insisted on going.” He sang a few bars of the theme song from Ghostbusters, and Ellie laughed, too. He certainly seemed to be in high spirits, which helped to reassure her.
Glen, on the other hand, had made it sound as if going to Bitter End meant risking life and limb. While she might have been willing to listen to reason, she’d deeply resented the way he’d spoken to her. He’d given her orders, for heaven’s sake.
Everything about their short exchange rankled. Ellie felt bad about it herself, wanting their relationship to return to the way it had been before the kiss. She should have stopped him, should have known anything physical between them would lead to problems. The only reason she’d let it happen was that she’d been so upset. Glen had regretted it, too; he’d as much as told her.
Richard helped her into the truck, which Ellie realized was Grady’s. His spirits remained high as he drove out of town, down the two-lane highway.
Suddenly he veered off the road into a rocky meadow with cedar shrubs and knee-high weeds.
“So this is the way?”
“No,” he said. “I just want you to think it is.” The pickup pitched sharply right, one of the front tires slamming against a rock. Ellie was shoved into the door, hitting her shoulder hard. She yelped in pain.
“Sorry,” Richard said, slowing the vehicle. “You okay?”
“Fine. What about the truck?” She assumed he was stopping to survey any damage to the wheels, but she was wrong.
He leaned toward her and opened the glove compartment, removing a black handkerchief.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“A blindfold.”
“A what?” she exploded.
“Blindfold,” he repeated calmly. “I thought about this carefully and it’s the only way I’ll agree to take you to Bitter End.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I’m taking you against my better judgment. If Grady ever found out, he’d have my hide.”
“Glen wasn’t too pleased about it, either.”
“You told him?” Richard’s eyes flared with anger.
“Yes, we…we exchanged a few words and left it at that.”
“Tell him you changed your mind.”
Ellie stared at Richard in shock. “You want me to lie?”
“Well, not lie…exactly. Just let him assume you followed his advice. Understand?”
“A lie by omission is still a lie.”
“Whatever. Just do it.” He held up the blindfold.
“I’m not wearing that.”
“Then I’m not taking you to Bitter End.” The way he said it made her realize he wasn’t kidding. The facade vanished, and she viewed a side of Richard she’d never seen before. A side that wasn’t cordial or friendly but, rather, dark and menacing.
“I have to wear the blindfold?”
He nodded, then his face relaxed into a boyish grin. “Think of it as a game.”
“All right.” But she didn’t like it, and her dislike intensified when he placed the handkerchief around her eyes, tying it securely at the back of her head.
“Can you see anything?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” His repeated questions irritated her.
He started the truck again and pulled back onto the highway. He seemed to be driving around in circles. When he finally did leave the road, she was completely confused and had no idea what direction he’d taken. On the rough off-road terrain, the truck bounced and heaved in every direction.
Ellie lost track of time. It might have been fifteen minutes or an hour, she didn’t know. All she knew was that they’d stopped.
“Richard?”
He didn’t answer. But she knew immediately that they were close to Bitter End. She felt it. A heavy uncomfortable sensation descended on her, a feeling that was completely at odds with the sun’s warmth pouring through the windows.
“We’re here, aren’t we?” she asked.
Silence.
“Richard?”
Silence again.
She heard a soft eerie sound, a creaking that could have been the truck door opening. Or was it something else? Something sinister.
“This is ridiculous,” she said, and lifted the blindfold from her eyes. Richard wasn’t beside her, nor was he visible from where she sat. Squinting into the sunlight, she climbed out of the truck.
The first thing she saw was a faint footpath leading away from the truck. Not knowing what else to do, she followed it, clambering over rocks and forcing her way through the undergrowth. Soon the town came into sight; she could see it clearly from a limestone outcropping just above. She stopped and stared.
Bitter End was surprisingly intact. A number of buildings, some of them stone, some wood, stood along a main street, which was bordered by a plank walk. A church steeple showed in the distance, charred by fire. She saw a hotel and livery stable with a small corral. Even a building that had apparently been a saloon.
She still couldn’t see Richard anywhere.
“Richard!” she called again. “Where are you? If this is a joke I’m not laughing.”
She half-slid, half-ran down the incline to the town.
She felt a sudden chill on her bare arms. Although the day was warm and windless, the town was decidedly cold.
“Richard!” she shouted again.
Nothing.
Cautiously she ventured onto the street, but her companion was nowhere to be seen. Panic clawed at her stomach as she spun around. “Richard! For the love of God, where are you?”