Page 18 of Point of Mercy

Soon,the horses were loping along the westerly trail, skirting the pastures and keeping to the edge of the forest.

“Where’re we going?” she asked, hardly daring to break the companionable silence that had grown between them.

Turner’s grin widened. “Wait and see.”

“But—”

He spurred his horse forward, and Heather had no choice but to follow. The path thinned as it wound upward, through the hills and along the rocky banks of Cottonwood Creek.

Turner didn’t say much and Heather didn’t dare. The night was too perfect to be broken with words. The moon, full and opalescent, hung low over the hills and thousands of stars studded the sky like tiny shards of crystal. Every so often, a shooting star would streak across the black heavens in a flash of brilliance that stole the breath from Heather’s lungs.

The hum of traffic along a distant highway melded with the chorus of frogs hiding in the shallow pools formed by the creek.

All the while they rode, Heather couldn’t take her eyes off Turner. Tall in the saddle, his shoulders wide, his waist narrow, his hips moving with the easy gait of his horse, he rode as if he belonged astride a horse. She imagined the feel of his hard thighs pressed against the ribs of the horse and her mouth turned to cotton.

“Here we go,” he finally said, when the trees parted to reveal a clearing of tall grass and wildflowers. A lake shimmered,reflecting the black sky and tiny stars. Moonlight streamed across the surface in a ghostly ribbon of white, and fish jumped at unseen insects, causing splashes and ripples along the glassy surface.

Lithely, Turner hopped to the ground and tethered his horse on a nearby sapling. The animal snorted, then buried his nose in the lush grass.

“What is this place?” Heather asked, mirroring Turner’s actions by tying Sundown to a scraggly pine.

“My mother’s favorite spot in the world. She brought me up here a lot in the summer.” He stared across the night-darkened landscape and a sad smile crossed his lips. “The Lazy K was where she and Zeke grew up. It was just a working ranch then—no boarders or tourists. But then my grandparents died and left the place to Zeke.” He glanced over his shoulder. “They cut Mom out of the will because she married my old man.”

“Oh,” Heather said weakly.

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” Turner shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “You heard some gossip about me and you want to know what’s true.”

“No, I—I just wanted…”

He turned and faced her, his hair ruffling in the slight breeze, his face taut and hard. “What, Heather? You wanted what?”

Time seemed to stand still. The air became suddenly quiet aside from her own frightened breathing. Swallowing hard, she decided that she had to be honest with him. “I just wanted to be alone with you,” she whispered, feeling an odd mixture of shame and excitement.

“Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

No time for lies. “Probably,” she admitted.

“I don’t get involved—”

“I know, Turner,” she snapped. “Listen, I didn’t want to like you and I hated the first few times we had lessons, but…day after day, I started to look forward to being with you.”

“Because you’re bored.”

Licking her lips, she shook her head. “I don’t think so, Turner. I think I… I think I’m falling for you.” Her voice, though a whisper, sounded deafening.

He didn’t move. Aside from the breeze tugging at the flap of his shirt, he stood stock-still, as if carved in stone.

She took a tentative step forward, walking close enough to touch him.

“What about the guy in Gold Creek?” he asked.

“I told you. It’s over.”

Biting her lip, she reached upward, touching the thin curve of his lips. With a groan, he grabbed her hand, holding it away from him. “You’re playing with fire here, Heather.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t mess with women who are involved with other men.”

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