Cowboy Christmas Rescue. Beth Cornelison

was seeing what she thought. The gray mare was standing across the rolling plains about a mile from them.

      “Brady!” She jostled him and aimed a finger in the opposite direction of the ranch. Shouting to be heard over the engine, she said, “I have to bring her back. Take me to her.”

      He slowed to a stop so that they could talk over the noise of the ATV. “We can send someone out after her when we get back.”

      “No.” She tightened her grip on him. “I took her. I need to bring her back.”

      Brady glanced over his shoulder at her. “While I respect your sense of honor and responsibility, our priority needs to be getting to the sheriff’s department.”

      “Brady—”

      “Do you even have the strength to ride? You could barely stand a few minutes ago.”

      “I’ve had time to rest, and I’ve warmed up a little bit.” She paused, considering the reality of his question. “If you help me get on her, I can ride her back to the ranch. It’s not that far.”

      “Kara, we need to—”

      “I can do it, Brady! I need to make this right. It’s my fault...” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Please, just take me to her.”

      He turned his gaze back to the mare and huffed a sigh. “All right. But I’m following you back to the ranch. As soon as we can turn her over to one of the Wheelers’ hands, you’re coming with me to the station to make a statement and give a description of the shooter.”

      Brady turned the ATV and headed toward the horse. Once they’d untied the restless mare’s reins, Kara positioned herself beside the horse, one hand on the saddle horn. “Can I get a boost?”

      Brady moved up behind her, stooping to lift her as she swung onto the saddle. Tired though she was, having his hands splayed on her, his intimate grip on her thighs and bottom, sent a prickle of lust to her core. Her leg muscles quivered as she mounted the mare, and not entirely because of fatigue and cold.

      He frowned at her exposed legs and rubbed his palms briskly over her red, chapped skin. “Damn, Kara. Look at you! What happened to the rest of your dress? I could’ve sworn it was longer.”

      “I made alterations before I swam over to get you. I didn’t want my legs getting tangled up in all that extra material.”

      His face darkened, and he opened his mouth as if to comment on her alterations or her rescue but snapped his mouth closed. Instead he said, “I’ll be right behind you if you change your mind.”

      With a nod, she snapped the reins and set off, guiding the mare back toward the Wheeler Ranch. She focused on the bright red barn with its Texas flag. The barn’s roof had been trimmed with white Christmas lights that glowed like a beacon in the gloomy weather.

      But as she rode nearer the barn, a chest-constricting dread swamped her. Had they found the shooter? Would the man be lying in wait for her? She inhaled a shallow breath trying to calm the skittering of nerves. Brady said he’d left his deputies in charge of securing the scene. Even if the sniper hadn’t been caught, the man would have to be crazy to stick around the crime scene. Surely the shooter was long gone. Though that made her feel better about returning to the Wheeler Ranch, a suspect in the wind was bad for Brady as sheriff...and the community. A sniper loose in Rusted Spur? Her gut roiled. She hated the idea of Brady leading the search for a killer.

      And as Brady’s only eyewitness, she would be his best shot at identifying the man.

      She gripped the reins tighter and whispered a prayer. “Please, let the man be in custody already. Please, let this be over!”