Lonestar Sanctuary

The Rock Harbor Series

Without a Trace

Beyond a Doubt

Into the Deep

The, Aloha Reef Series

Distant Echoes

Black Sands

Dangerous Depths

Alaska Twilight

Fire Dancer

Midnight Sea

Abomination

Anathema

COLLEEN

COBLC

For my brother, Rick Rhoads,

who should have been a cowboy
and whose strength and loving heart inspire me.

THE RODEO CROWD, REEKING OF BEER AND PEANUTS, FINALLY REELED OFF
into the night. Allie Siders heard their good-bye calls faintly through
the faded cotton curtains. The twin bed sagged under her weight as
she sat down and slipped off her worn cowboy boots. She smelled like
horse not a bad smell, but pungent nevertheless. A hot shower
would ease her muscles, taxed with riding around barrels all day.

Her five-year-old daughter, Betsy, slept with one fist curled under
her cheek in the youth cot next to Allie's bed, and Allie watched her
sleep for a moment. So innocent, so beautiful.

So damaged by the blows life had dealt.

But things would get better soon. They could hardly get worse.
Once Allie won the barrel-racing championship, the money would come rolling in, and they'd have a better place to live than this old,
broken-down trailer.

Allie dreamed of the day she and Betsy would have a real home
again. They had one once upon a time, until the rough seas washed
the sand castle away. But she'd find a way somehow. Betsy deserved
more.

Allie slipped out of her dusty jeans and padded to the hall in her
bare feet. The floors of the tiny travel trailer creaked and groaned
under her weight as she tiptoed toward the bathroom. She left the
door open a crack in case Betsy called out for her, though the chance
was unlikely. The little girl hadn't spoken a word in nearly a year.

The tiny bathroom was spotless except for the rust stains Allie
couldn't get off the worn fixtures. The Lysol she'd sprayed still lingered in the air, and she resisted the urge to sneeze.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. The rodeo queen's smile
was one that vanished with the crowds.

She went to the tub and turned on the shower. The hot spray sputtered from the rusty showerhead and struck her sore arm, soothing it,
enticing her to step fully into the welcoming warmth.

Straightening, she tugged her shirt over her head. A creak like
someone stepping on the weak floor came from beyond the door. She
whirled in time to see it slam shut. Allie jerked her shirt back down.
Gooseflesh pebbled on her arm when the creak came again.

"Yolanda, is that you?" she called.

Her friend's cheery voice didn't answer. Allie wet her lips. She
was being a nervous Nellie tonight. The noise was probably the old
trailer settling. Her hand gripped the bottom of her shirt again to
remove it.

Something scratched at the door, and she caught her breath.

"Aaaallieee," the taunting voice whispered through the door. The
scrape sounded once more. "Aaaallieee."

A man's voice, low and guttural, maybe even deliberately pitched
so she wouldn't recognize it. A sharp edge under the low, cruel voice
vibrated. That voice could cut to the bone without a weapon.

Allie took a step away from the menace, her back pushing away the
wet shower curtain until water sprayed her neck. It was like a wet
slap, bringing her back to what mattered most.

Betsy!

She grappled with the embrace of the wet shower curtain and managed to disentangle herself from it. She leaped to the door and grabbed
the doorknob, yanking hard, but the door didn't move. With her hand
on the cold metal knob, she could feel his movements on the other side.

"Let me out!" she screamed, pounding and kicking at the door.

"You want out?" He chuckled, the razor edge of his voice contrasting with the smooth laugh. "Your sister wanted out."

The room felt close, airless. Her lungs strained to pull in enough
oxygen. She wanted to scream for Betsy but didn't dare call the man's
attention to the fact that her daughter was in the bedroom.