“LET GO!”

“No!”

Their horses thundered nearly shoulder to shoulder.

Elias punched at her injured arm.

Pain exploded.

Abby nearly fell.

But she held on.

“Stupid woman!” Elias shouted. “You don’t even know what’s in here!”

“I know enough!”

“No, you don’t!”

He reached for his gun.

Abby tightened her grip.

Elias shouted something she could barely hear.

“YOUR FATHER SET THE FIRE!”

Abby froze.

“What?”

Elias drew the revolver.

But instead of aiming at Abby—

He pointed behind her.

Gunfire cracked.

Elias jerked violently.

Blood appeared across his shoulder.

A second shot struck his horse’s saddle.

The animal screamed.

Both riders separated.

Abby turned.

Another horse was racing toward them.

Moonlight flashed across the rider’s face.

Abby felt her entire body go cold.

Gideon Whittaker.

Her father.

He raised a rifle.

Elias shouted, “Ride!”

Gideon fired again.

The bullet ripped through Elias’s side.

He fell.

The satchel strap tangled between them.

Abby lost balance and crashed from Juniper.

Earth slammed against her shoulder.

For several seconds, she couldn’t breathe.

Then boots approached.

Gideon dismounted.

Abby stared upward.

“Father?”

His face was completely different from the man she knew.

No embarrassment.

No softness.

No hesitation.

Only calculation.

“Give me the bag, Abigail.”

She looked toward Elias.

He lay twenty feet away, struggling to breathe.

“You shot him.”

“He became unreliable.”

Abby slowly stood.

“You set the ranch on fire.”

Gideon sighed.

“I had hoped you’d leave Kansas after that wedding embarrassment.”

The words struck harder than any slap.

“You knew what Elias planned to do in the church?”

“No.”

For the first time, genuine anger entered Gideon’s voice.

“That vain fool ruined everything.”

Elias coughed blood and laughed weakly.

“Tell her the rest, Gideon.”

“Shut your mouth.”

Abby clutched the satchel.

“The eight hundred dollars.”

Gideon looked at it.

“Payment.”

“For me.”

“For cooperation.”

Something inside Abby finally understood.

Her father had not failed to defend her because he was ashamed of her.

He had lowered his eyes because he was afraid Elias might expose the arrangement.

“You sold me.”

Gideon’s jaw tightened.

“I secured your future.”

“You sold me.”

“I kept you fed for twenty-seven years!”

“So did the cattle I worked.”

His face changed.

He stepped toward her.

“Give me the bag.”

Abby backed away.

“No.”

Gideon raised the rifle.

“Do not force me.”

A second voice came from the darkness.

“I’d listen to her.”

Marshal Hooper rode into view.

Relief struck Abby so powerfully her knees nearly buckled.

“Marshal!”

Hooper dismounted.

His revolver was drawn.

Gideon’s expression darkened.

“You’re late.”

Hooper smiled.

Then he aimed the revolver at Abby.

Her relief vanished.

Elias closed his eyes.

“God help us.”

Hooper held out his hand.

“Satchel.”

Abby stared at him.

“You were part of it.”

“Part?”

Hooper laughed.

“Miss Whittaker, I signed every inspection certificate in that bag.”

He glanced toward Gideon.