As Hope bobbed along on Isabeau, she peered into the woods on either side of the narrow US Forest Service road. The extremely dark and scary woods. Any one of those shadows could be a bear, maybe even a grizzly. They’d have cubs this time of year, right? That made them more dangerous. After several glasses of wine this afternoon, she’d convinced herself that an evening horseback ride with a handsome cowboy was a great plan. Now she longed for the cozy and very safe ranch house. Uh-oh. Something rustled in the bushes. Liam kept moving forward, but he turned in his saddle to glance back at her. “Can you see the light on my saddle?” “Shh. I hear something.” She went very still and tried to separate the various sounds—the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves, the creak of the saddles, the wind sighing through the top branches of the pines. The rustling had stopped. No, there it was again.
