Treacherous Trails. Dana Mentink

via letter. Friends, I sincerely thank you for coming along for this second Gold Country adventure.

      God bless!

      Dana Mentink

      Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.

      —Matthew 16:24

      To Nancy and Phil, God loving, horse loving, Kingdom serving souls. Thank you.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       ONE

       TWO

       THREE

       FOUR

       FIVE

       SIX

       SEVEN

       EIGHT

       NINE

       TEN

       ELEVEN

       TWELVE

       THIRTEEN

       FOURTEEN

       FIFTEEN

       SIXTEEN

       SEVENTEEN

       EIGHTEEN

       NINETEEN

       TWENTY

       TWENTY-ONE

       TWENTY-TWO

       TWENTY-THREE

       TWENTY-FOUR

       TWENTY-FIVE

       TWENTY-SIX

       TWENTY-SEVEN

       Extract

       ONE

      Ella Cahill rubbed her eyes as she climbed behind the wheel of her old van and sipped tea out of her thermos to revive herself. The pounding behind her temples was growing more and more painful. Probably fatigue. Trying to squeeze just one more appointment into her farrier’s schedule meant another small step toward covering the monthly bills, but it took a toll. You can sleep tomorrow was her motto, but that luxurious day of rest never seemed to come. She rolled down the window halfway, hoping that since the tea hadn’t worked, the cold January temperatures would restore her. Sucking in a deep lungful of crisp air, she felt grateful once more for Gold Bar, her sleepy little hometown tucked deep in the heart of California’s gold country. Funny how her craving for travel and adventure had mellowed away, leaving quiet contentment behind.

      “Done so soon?”

      The sudden appearance of Bruce Reed, dark hair slicked down and smelling of cologne, made her jump. Her skin prickled as her friend Luke’s words from earlier in the day came back to her.

      Reed’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He’s dangerous.

      “Yes,” Ella said. “I tended to Bellweather. I can’t understand how the shoe came loose. I just shod him last week.”

      Reed shrugged. “Horses are dumb animals. They don’t know enough to take care of themselves like we do. Nice of you to make an emergency call.”

      Dumb animals? Though she knew Bruce Reed was in his fifties, he seemed ageless close up, his skin smooth and tight across his prominent cheekbones, no extra softness anywhere. He quirked a smile to reveal blinding white teeth, the canines pointed and slightly longer than the rest. Wolflike, she mused before she blinked herself back to reality. The fatigue was really getting to her.

      She started the engine. “I’ve got to go, Mr. Reed.”

      “Call me Bruce. What’s the rush?” He stroked her fingers that still clutched the window frame. “Come join Candy and me for a drink.”

      “No, thank you,” she said while easing her hand away. “I don’t drink and