Texas Forever. Janet Dailey

      Too bad he hadn’t brought the .38 he kept under the seat of his truck, Luke reflected. If the intruder had a weapon, Luke would be at a disadvantage. As it was, the best he could hope for would be to get a look at him, or at least scare the bastard off.

      A stand of mesquite grew shoulder high near the back corner of the paddock. Using it as a screen, Luke scanned the length of the stout barbed wire fence that separated the grassy pasture from the brushy foothills that rose to the west. Clumps of sage, chamisa, and mesquite grew outside the fence, offering plenty of cover. Only when the strange figure moved did Luke catch a glimpse of long, bony limbs and straight, black hair. As he moved closer for a better look, a flock of quail, bedded in the mesquite, exploded almost under his feet. The burst of calling, fluttering birds sent the alarmed intruder sprinting off to vanish into the darkness.

      Swearing, Luke straightened to his full height. There was no way he could catch up with the strange figure. For now, there was nothing to do but go back to where he’d left Erin.

      There was no need to be stealthy now. He fished a small LED flashlight out of his pocket and switched it on to illuminate his path over the bumpy ground. He was halfway across the paddock when he saw Erin coming to meet him. “I told you to stay put,” he said.

      “No need for that now, is there? Do you always carry a flashlight?”

      “Only when there’s a chance I might run into Henry.”

      She laughed—not a tinkly, little girl laugh, but a full-bodied woman’s laugh that surprised Luke with its innocent sensuality. He forced himself to focus on the danger that lurked in the darkness beyond the paddock.