Page 15 of High Frequency

“In the shop getting serviced, but if you don’t want to wait, you can always borrow a ride at High Meadow. Better yet,” she adds, turning back to her computer screen. “Get one of those boys to take you, they’re the ones who found her.”

That gives me pause for a moment. What she says makes sense, but it would mean stopping by the ranch, when I thought I was safe from encountering Dan today since I left Aspen home with Pippa.

Seeing him yesterday, my daughter in his arms, had been a jolt to the system in more ways than one. It definitely was a dramatic change from our first encounter. Driving home, I couldn’t help but replay how natural he looked handling Aspen. I remember Dan being pretty hands-on when my cousin, Carmi, was born.

I think it might have been what made me aware my attraction to him was more than a temporary crush. That appeal still packs a wallop. Handsome, rugged man with a baby, who could resist?

I’d better fortify that shield around my heart. I’ve made the mistake of following it once before with a painful outcome.

I can’t afford to do it again; I have a child now.

Of course, the first person I see when I drive past the corral is Dan, working a large black horse on a lunge line.

Instead of heading toward the house, I pull the Jeep in next to a couple of trailers parked beside the barn.

“Hey,” he calls out when he sees me walking up.

I rest my arms on the top of the fence.

“Hey,” I return. “Nice animal.”

“Yeah, a bit unruly though. It’s the horse your uncle picked up from Coeur d’Alene yesterday. This guy was stuck in the trailer on the side of the road for five hours. Apparently, he’s not a fan.”

“I see.”

I note the flared nostrils and darting eyes, as the horse’s ears flit back and forth. I know enough to recognize high anxiety.

“You’re back,” Dan observes, reeling the horse in slowly. “No Aspen today?”

“No, she’s with Pippa.”

When the animal is within reach, he gently rubs its nose before taking a firm hold of the halter. Then he starts walking to the gate, which I quickly go to hold open. Then I fall in step beside him as he leads the horse into the barn.

“I’m actually here for work,” I explain. “I need to have a look at the trail up on Kenelty Mountain, and I figured it would probably be easiest to do it on horseback. That is, if I could borrow one.”

Dan opens the half-door to one of the empty stalls and guides the horse in, before slipping out again and sliding the latch shut. Then he leans his back against it, crosses his ankles, and folds his arms in front of him.

“How long since you’ve ridden?”

I guess it’s a fair question, considering I’m asking to borrow a horse. I’m just not sure the answer will be satisfactory.

“About eight years, I’d say. Give or take,” I admit.

Dan

No way I was going to let her go up by herself.

Good thing it’s quiet today. No active searches, which is almost unheard of this time of year, meaning plenty of manpower to cover the ranch.

The only ones who aren’t around are Jonas, Alex, and Fletch. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I was just coming out of the barn around four—I’d been checking on one of our mares who’s about to pop—when I noticed Fletch’s truck pulling up to the house. Then I noticed Alex and Jonas coming down the porch steps with suitcases, and getting in before the truck disappeared down the driveway again.

I’m not sure what that was about, but I figure if it’s important for me to know, somebody will tell me.

I shift in my saddle to look behind me. It may have been a long time, but Sloane still looks pretty comfortable on a horse. Of course, I saddled Pudding for her, who is one of our most even-tempered mounts. Sloane always was a good rider and doesn’t seem to have an issue urging her horse across the river.

“Watch for low branches,” I remind her when we get up on the other bank and make our way into the trees.

Wouldn’t be the first time someone gets knocked out of the saddle.

---