CHAPTER ONE

The wind buffeted against Casey’s car as she drove down the two-lane mountain road. Dusk muted the surroundings with a soft rosy hue. In the hour before she’d started winding through this mountain pass, she’d seen several ranches in the distance. Signs made from iron were attached like banners to either side of posts supporting large gates, marking their names at each entrance. “Galloping Acres” was one. Another, “Twisted Spur.”

The names had been a diversion because for most of the trip she’d ruminated over her life decisions. Like selling most of her belongings and her house. Truth? She was trying to forget by running away.

Let it go, Casey. Just let it go. But it wasn’t easy. Images of a young man’s cracked skull and prone body floated in front of her, a mirage of a life she’d ruined while derailing her own.

She stopped thinking about the injured kid, but then found herself trying to shake a vision of her “lived-with-for-two-years” boyfriend. Turned out he was a frog, and no amount of kissing would ever turn him into a prince. “Biggest jerk of all time,” she muttered as she swiped at a tear threatening to spill down her cheek.

Casey drew a slow even breath. “One—two— three—” and then exhaled, “One— two— three.” She repeated the exercise four times and was rewarded with a sort of calm. In fact, her eyelids had grown heavy and she prayed for some form of civilization to pop up on the horizon.

Cresting a hill, she saw lights in the distance. “A town? God, I hope so.” She reached for her frozen coffee drink. A gigantic mistake. The contents had melted, and squeezing the cup to grab it popped the lid. Blended mocha went flying, on the dash, the radio—and why not? All over her shirt and jeans.

When she refocused on the blacktop, a shape loomed. A cow? “Holy…” She didn’t finish the expletive as she tried to avoid the large animal. The cup dropped from her hand when her reflexes pushed into hyperdrive. Casey jerked the steering wheel to the right in an effort to avoid hitting the cow. Then she hit the brakes, and though the road was dry, she heard the tires hit dirt. Within seconds of seeing the solo cow, her car was airborne, and Casey’s brain filled with staccato thoughts. Is this it? Damn. I’m sorry, God. And, No, I’m sorry, everybody.

She only hoped it didn’t hurt to die.