Ellie knew she’d been a fool to lend her neighbor the car. Mrs. Martinez would have been willing to wait until her teenage son came home—Ellie didn’t have to strand herself without transportation just to prove she was still a good person. She didn’t have a thing to eat in the house, and Tanner would be hungry when he finally returned. She could always make an omelet, but Tanner didn’t strike her as the sort of man who’d be content with an omelet.

The market was only a few blocks away. She seldom walked there. While the distance wasn’t bad, carrying food back put too uncomfortable a strain on her leg. She preferred her walking to be recreational and therapeutic, rather than practical.

Tonight she might have no choice. It was almost five. The heat had scarcely abated, and the soft breeze blowing through the open windows of the old house stirred up memories and longings that were better left buried.

Of course, there was no guarantee that Tanner would be back that night. With Tanner there were no guarantees whatsoever, as she kept reminding herself. That lack of a safety net was beginning to matter less and less.

She moved to the tall bank of cupboards that lined the back wall, staring into the uninspiring depths. Maybe the two-year-old box of Bisquick might provide something edible. She was busy perusing the back of the package when she heard the car drive up. Mrs. Martinez was back sooner than she’d expected. There might just be time to get to Davidson’s Market.

It wasn’t Mrs. Martinez’s squat bulk on her back porch, nor the Buick in her driveway. It was Ginger Barlow, wearing too much makeup, too much perfume, with a defiant glitter in her pale-blue eyes. For an odd, irrational moment Ellie wanted to slam the door in her face, lock out whatever unpleasantness Ginger seemed determined to bring in. But of course she didn’t. Saint Ellie, she mocked herself, holding the door open for her friend.

“Has Tanner got your car again?” Ginger asked abruptly, in lieu of a greeting.

All Ellie’s misgivings were proving true. “Mrs. Martinez borrowed it,” she said gently. “You know the trouble she has with her old Vega…”

“I’m not here to talk about Mrs. Martinez,” Ginger said, setting her ample hips down on a kitchen chair and fixing Ellie with a determined gaze.

Ellie sighed. “I didn’t think you were. I don’t suppose it’ll do any good to tell you I don’t want to discuss it?”

“No good at all.”

“In that case, can I get you some coffee?”

“All I want,” said Ginger sternly, “is your undivided attention. Sit down, Ellie, and I’ll tell you a few things you need to know about the man you’ve been spending all this time with.”

And with a sense of deep foreboding, Ellie sat down to listen.

“Don’t be crazy, son,” Doc said. “Who’d know better than you whether or not you were out killing animals and peering in people’s windows?”

“It just struck me,” he said slowly. “My father was crazy—you certainly can’t argue that.”

“I suppose not,” Doc said reluctantly.

“And I’m his son. There doesn’t seem to be any doubt about that, either. So what if I inherited his craziness? What if I’m going out at night, doing things and just not remembering? Maybe my father didn’t remember the things he did, maybe he just thought he was sleeping. Maybe…”

“These are crazy fantasies. You didn’t strike me as the neurotic type.”

“I come by it honestly.”

“The hell you do,” Doc exploded. “Your daddy was crazy, and I don’t deny it. But it wasn’t hereditary, it wasn’t inbred, it wasn’t anything more than a sensitive man reacting to impossible circumstances. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you have to kill seventeen people, even in a war, and then live with the consequences, you might go a little crazy yourself. Then again, you might not. I’d be willing to bet you wouldn’t. You’ve got more resilience than your daddy ever had. He couldn’t bend, he couldn’t accept the way things were. And people who can’t bend, break.” He stubbed out his cigarette and looked wistfully at Tanner’s breast pocket.

Tanner ignored the unspoken plea. “I just hope you’re right.”

“Listen, Tanner, you have enough enemies around. Don’t add yourself to the list,” Doc said earnestly. “And for heaven’s sake, give me another cigarette. Who knows when Ginger’ll be back and get on my case again?”

Tanner made no move for the cigarettes. “Where is Ginger?” He’d been more than grateful not to have seen her. She’d made it clear the night before that she wasn’t the sort who appreciated being rejected, and while he didn’t fancy any sort of confrontation, her absence made him more than a little uneasy.

“‘Fraid my daughter’s not too fond of you right now.” Doc said easily. “Don’t worry about it. I brought the girl up the best I could when her mother took off, but I’m afraid certain things just didn’t stick too well. She wants what she wants, and she doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“Sometimes she has to.”

“Well, that’s true. But she doesn’t have to like it. When you came in the front door she headed out the back. Said she was off to visit Ellie.”

He should have known, Tanner thought. He should have listened to his own inner misgivings. “I’d better be getting back,” he said abruptly, rising to his feet.

“Back where?”

“Back to Ellie’s.”

Doc nodded. “I thought so. Maybe I’d better give you a ride. I love my daughter, but she’s got the devil of a tongue, and I wouldn’t put it past her to twist it around some things that weren’t strictly true.”

Tanner didn’t even hesitate. “Let’s go.”

Ginger didn’t see or hear him walk in the kitchen door. Ellie did. He moved silently, gracefully, and she could see how he could survive unnoticed in wilderness areas that boasted such unfriendly critters as wolves and grizzlies. Right now Ellie wasn’t sure that Ginger was any less lethal than her four-legged kin.

“I’ve got bruises, Ellie,” Ginger was saying. “The man was an animal, all over me. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. I think he’s—he’s a little crazy.”

The pause was good, Ellie thought cynically. Very effective. She moved her gaze from Tanner’s still, opaque eyes to Ginger’s wide blue ones, and shivered. The scary thing was, Ginger was beginning to believe what she was saying. Another time, another person, and Ellie would have believed her, too.

“I don’t remember,” she said carefully, “that you have too much practice saying no.”

“Oh, I admit, I was attracted to him,” Ginger said, pushing her mane of streaked blond hair back over her shoulder. “Who wouldn’t be? There’s that air of danger, that sexy mouth, those eyes of his. But it didn’t take me long to realize that he’s no good, as cruel and rotten as his father ever was. You may not realize it. He’s been all sweetness and light to you and his dear old granny. But I saw…”

Ellie had groaned in sudden dismay as Tanner stiffened in the kitchen doorway. Ginger finally came out of her self-absorption long enough to realize they weren’t alone, and her face froze as she took in Tanner’s still figure.

“My dear old granny?” he said finally. “I didn’t realize I had any kin left around here.” His voice was cold and empty. “At least, none who would acknowledge me. I guess I was right about that.”

“Tanner, it wasn’t that she wouldn’t acknowledge you,” Ellie said desperately, rising from her chair and knocking it over in sudden clumsiness. “She was afraid you wouldn’t forgive her for not helping your mother.”

“She was right,” he said coolly. “I presume we’re talking about Maude?”

“She’s a foolish old woman who can’t see you for what you are,” Ginger broke in spitefully.

Tanner smiled, his cold, gentle smile. “She sees through you clear enough.” He glanced back at Ellie, who was momentarily speechless with misery. “But I’m not sure your friend does.”

She opened her mouth to say something, to assure him that she hadn’t believed a word of Ginger’s lies, when the back door opened behind Tanner and Dave Martin bulldozed his way in, followed by Doc Barlow.

“There’s been an accident,” Doc announced, forestalling Martin. “I’ve got to get back to the house. Mrs. Martinez will need a few stitches, but it sounds as if she’s okay. I could use your help, Ginger.”

Ginger hesitated. “Coming,” she said finally, her voice sulky. She skirted Tanner, holding her body away as if the air around him might be contaminated, managed a tiny sashay for an unappreciative Dave Martin, and headed out the door. “Remember what I told you, Ellie,” she called back over her shoulder.

Tanner hadn’t moved. He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed, prepared to listen. If it hadn’t been for the savage look in his eyes, Ellie might have been fool enough to think he was at ease.

“What happened to Mrs. Martinez?” she asked, dread and despair filling her. “I lent her my car this afternoon. Is she badly hurt?”

“Your car lost its brakes,” Dave announced. “With a little help from someone who knows his way around cars. Doc’s right—she’s okay. She was only going about twenty-five, and she just skidded off the road. Probably won’t even need those stitches. What I want to know, Ellie, is when you last drove that car, and who else has been driving it? And I want to know, mister,” he turned and glowered at Tanner, “where you’ve been all day, and whether you’ve got any witnesses who can swear to your alibi.”

Tanner moved then, and for a moment Ellie held her breath, afraid of what he might do. But he merely headed for the door, ignoring Martin, ignoring her.

“Wait just a damned minute!” Dave was heading out after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Tanner paused on the back porch, and Ellie thought she could see desolation and resignation in his eyes before his face once more grew impassive. “As far away from Morey’s Falls,” he said, “as my legs can carry me.” And he headed down the steps into the early evening light.

He’d gone. Ellie knew that, and she couldn’t blame him. She’d lied to him, or at least been party to a deception. She hadn’t told him Maude was Marbella’s mother. Maude had begged her not to, wanting a chance to get to know him, get close to him before he found out that she was one of the people who’d turned their backs on his mother when she was desperately in need. Ellie had helped give her that chance, and now it looked as if she’d destroyed her own in doing so.

Dave Martin had stood at her back door, shouting after Tanner’s retreating figure, and there’d been no way she could thrust him out of her path and go after Tanner, to try to explain. She’d stood there, trapped in her own kitchen, and watched him walk away, as he’d walked away so many times in his life.

The sun set late in Montana in June. It was ten o’clock, and the sky still held enough light to see Morey’s Ridge in the east. Ellie sat in her bed, among her clean, ruffled sheets, the cotton lace nightgown around her, and looked out into the twilit sky. How far would he make it tonight? Would he have gone back to the cabin for his pack, for food, or would he have just kept going?

If only she’d had a chance to tell him she trusted him. If only she’d had a chance to shut Ginger up, to silence Dave Martin, to run after him into the darkening shadows of the Montana night. Instead, there she was, left alone in her virgin bed, and he was somewhere up in the wilderness, moving away from her forever.

At least it was an unseasonably hot night. If he’d gone without his pack he’d be all right. But Tanner was too sensible for that—he would have gone back, packed everything up and been gone within an hour. He’d get quite a ways before it grew too dark to see. Would he reach the secret mountain meadow where they’d first met?

Ellie punched the pillow, squirming around in the bed. She could always drive out to his house to be certain. Within an hour of the accident people had called, offering her the use of their cars. The town pet was being taken care of again, she thought savagely. And they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Right now she had Addie Pritchard’s ancient Ford pickup sitting in the driveway, and Merrill Talbott’s son’s Toyota parked in front of the house. She’d turned down half a dozen other offers, from Lonnie’s aging BMW to a 1943 Studebaker that ran better than half the new models in town.

But she didn’t have to drive out Route 5 to Charles Tanner’s old place to know he was gone. She’d seen it in his eyes, in the line of his body, in the angle of his proud head as he walked out her door without a backward glance. He was gone, and she was left behind.

She leaned back on the soft feather pillow and shut her eyes. The moon was three-quarters full, shining in her window, gilding the tall, dark Victorian bed where she’d slept alone for almost fifteen years. The same moon was shining down on Tanner. Up in the mountains that same moon might be shining on someone else, someone evil, someone out with a gun or a bucket of red paint, someone out to spread pain and terror.

Her eyes shot open again, and a small, whimpering sound escaped the back of her throat. She didn’t want to lie there while Tanner moved farther and farther away from her. She didn’t want to lie alone ever again.

Throwing back the light cotton sheet, she climbed out of bed. She’d been passive for too long. She might not be able to find him, but she wasn’t going to stay there in her big dark house and let him go without a fight.

She didn’t bother changing—she just threw on an old pair of pants and a sweater over her nightgown while she made her plans. She would take Addie’s pickup and drive out to Maude’s place. She’d taken Shaitan out for moonlight rides before, and the high-strung stallion had picked his way sure-footedly along treacherous mountain paths without a stumble. He could find his way back to that meadow, even without the bright moon pouring down.

She had to accept the fact that Tanner might not be there, might already have headed higher up the mountain, beyond her reach. She’d accept that, if she had to. And while she didn’t know Alfred’s last name, or the town in the Sangre de Cristo mountains where Tanner would be heading, given her usual determination she’d find out both. And sooner or later she’d find Tanner.

Shaitan greeted her appearance in the old barn with a whirrup of approval. The farmhouse had been dark, with Maude in bed, and while Mazey and Hoover expressed forlorn displeasure at being left behind, they responded gratefully to being let out to pasture.

She didn’t bother with anything more than a bit and bridle. She dumped her sweater and jeans in a corner of the barn and scrambled onto Shaitan’s back. Her white cotton nightgown shimmered in the moonlight, flowing over the stallion’s black hide as she headed him toward the mountain trail east of Maude’s property. Her chestnut hair hung down her back, and her feet were bare in the warm night air. Wiggling her toes, she started up the mountain.

Morey’s ridge was still and silent above him. Darkness was descending, the late, streaky darkness of June in Montana. There was a soft, damp breeze ruffling the trees around him, smelling of yesterday’s rain, tomorrow’s flowers, the earth and the mountain and the clear stream at the edge of the meadow. The moon was a shimmering, fat crescent in the sky, with starlight spilling out around it, and Tanner took a deep, heady breath of the night air, letting the anger drain from him.

He’d been prepared to walk all night, up and over that mountain, moving into the wilderness, as far away from that cursed little town as his energy and stamina could carry him—as his personal devils could drive him. He’d left Ellie’s house four hours before, loaded his pack and taken off with only a few grateful souls to see him on his way.

How would they feel, he thought, when animals were found slaughtered and Tanner’s son was long gone? When the graves were still desecrated, the cars still sabotaged, the eyes still watching…?

That had slowed his headlong pace up the mountain. He’d left Ellie. Ellie, who had watchers peering in her window, Ellie, whose car had been tampered with. What if she’d been driving? What if she’d been zooming along at sixty-seven miles an hour, as she had earlier today?

He didn’t even know if she’d believed Ginger. He didn’t know if she’d listened to Dave Martin—chances were she hadn’t. And he didn’t blame her for not telling him about Maude. In the short time he’d known her, he knew Ellie wasn’t one to break a confidence. If Maude wanted to keep her identity a secret, Ellie wasn’t the one to break that secret.

He slipped the pack from his back and stretched his cramped muscles. The meadow looked different at night. Dark and mysterious, with moonlight silvering the aspens, turning the dew-damp grass to sparkling diamonds. The night was warm, waiting.

Waiting for what? It had to be close to eleven—the sun had set a little over an hour earlier. It was too late to head back down to town. He’d bed down here for the night, and the next morning he could decide.

Except that the decision had already been made. He wouldn’t leave Ellie in the midst of that mess. It was as good an excuse as any, he mocked himself, untying his sleeping bag and spreading it out over the thick carpet of grass and wildflowers. He knew, deep in his heart of hearts, that that was what it was. An excuse. Just a few days had passed, and he was too far gone. He couldn’t leave Ellie at all.

The pool was shallow enough to hold some heat from the long, sunny day. He stripped off his clothes and soaked his tired body, then climbed back out. It was warm enough not to wear his shirt, so he just pulled on his jeans, zipping them but not bothering with the snap. He squatted down by his pack, looking for the dried trail mix he always kept handy, when he heard the sound of her horse. And knew what he’d been waiting for.

He rose slowly, standing very still, watching her approach. She’d given Shaitan his head, and the big black stallion was picking his way carefully through the dense summer grasses. The soft breeze was blowing toward Tanner, and it wasn’t until they were close that the horse picked up his scent. The ears went back, the head went up, and Tanner held his breath.

And then Shaitan let out a small, quiet whicker of greeting as he continued toward Tanner’s waiting figure. Ellie was watching him, but even in the bright moonlight he couldn’t read her expression. It was enough that she’d come.

She was wearing something long and white and flowing, and her thick dark hair hung down her back. Her long, pale legs hugged the barrel of the horse, and her feet were bare. Her hands were light on the reins, letting Shaitan lead her. And Shaitan led her straight to Tanner.