Tattered Stars

by Catherine Cowles

  I couldn’t hold in my laugh. “Not even for bullets, huh?”

  “Girl, that man is fine. And the way he looks at you?” She started fanning herself. “Break me off a piece of that.”

  Tim made a gagging sound and headed for his reception station.

  “I think we might’ve been a little too much for poor Tim.”

  She waved me off. “He’s just bummed because he has himself a little crush on you, and now you’re taken.”

  “No, he doesn’t—” I stopped mid-sentence, thinking back on all of our interactions so far and realizing that maybe Tim did have a small crush on me.

  Kelly arched a brow. “See?”

  “He’ll get over it. I’m just fresh meat.”

  “True enough. Everybody always has to check out the new girl.”

  Miles bustled in through the back. “Morning. I brought donuts.”

  Kelly perked up. “I always said you were the best boss I ever had.”

  He smiled at all of us. “Sugar is always a good bribe in my book.”

  I took a strawberry donut and almost moaned when I took a bite. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

  “No one does it better than the bakery. And, good news, your paint mare and the mini-donkey will be ready to go home on Friday.”

  The bite of donut suddenly felt like a lead weight in my stomach. It was officially happening. The start of my sanctuary. There was no going back. This step almost felt as scary as those three little words I couldn’t seem to utter to Hayes. But at the same time, they both felt right.

  I glanced out the window and to the street. I could see where I’d had the run-in with my brother, where I’d been attacked. I could picture the hardware store just blocks away where my uncle had almost hit me. None of that was enough to scare me away. If I wanted the big, full life of my dreams, I would have to step into the unknown.

  “I can’t wait to get them there. Gabe and Shiloh are going to help me check everything over this afternoon. And the barn should be done in a couple of weeks.”

  Miles reached out and gave my arm a squeeze. “You’ll be giving this community an amazing gift. The animals. And the people, if you ever decide to open it for visits.”

  “I actually have an idea for an entire educational curriculum.”

  His eyes widened a fraction. “Really?”

  “It’s all theory right now, but I thought it would be a wonderful place for schools to take a field trip. If I can build it into what I have in my mind.”

  “Everly, I have no doubt that you will.”

  The only way we’d find out is if I moved forward into the unknown.

  The faint sound of hoofbeats on the gravel had me looking up from pulling on my muck boots. Gabe and Shiloh, atop their mounts, crested the hill to the cabin. Gabe waved. “Beautiful day for a ride. Thought we’d take advantage of it.”

  “Sounds like a wonderful idea to me.” I loved how Gabe was with Shiloh. He’d do whatever he could to spend time with her, but he also just let her be instead of forcing conversation. He would take whatever she was willing to give.

  “I bet they could use some water. Hold on a sec.” I jogged over to one of the new storage sheds we’d built with all of our helpers and pulled out a plastic water trough. Walking back to the fence where Gabe and Shiloh had dismounted, I filled the bucket from the newly extended water line.

  Gabe grinned, running his fingers through the stream of water. “It even works. I gotta be honest, I wasn’t sure. It had been a while since I laid new pipes.”

  Shiloh chuckled. “You know, Mom thought it was going to end up blowing up in your face.”

  “I might just have to send her a video of how nicely it turned out.”

  I shifted on my feet. “How’s she doing with everything going on?”

  Gabe’s smile faltered a fraction. “Better, I think. She’s always going to be a worrier. Nothing will ever change that.”

  “Time,” I said. “Time will change it, eventually. We have to hope it will.”

  He patted my shoulder in the same fatherly way he did to Shiloh and Hadley. “Right you are. Now, tell me. When do the animals arrive?”

  “The mare and the donkey are coming on Friday. We need to make sure everything’s set up in their paddock. And the guy who owned them hadn’t even named them, so we need names. Any ideas?”

  Shiloh slid her saddle off Trick’s back and balanced it on a fence rail. “We gotta get to know them a little bit first. Don’t you think?”

  “That’s a great idea.” The mare’s sorrowful eyes filled my mind as I looked around at the land surrounding us. I hoped she would find rest here. The same peace I searched for. Maybe we could find it together.

  “I’m thinking we should build a couple of hay feeders today,” Gabe offered. “Having them ready to go as new animals arrive will make things easier on you in the long run.”

  I was starting to see it: all sorts of different creatures making their homes here. And for the first time, my excitement overtook my nerves and fear. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  He clapped his hands together. “Let’s get to work.”

  We spent hours assembling the feeders. When we finally finished, we towed one of them into the paddock where our new mare and donkey would be living.

  Shiloh grinned. “I think they’ll be happy here.”

  I bumped her shoulder with mine. “I think so, too. If you guys position this, I’ll go get some hay so we can see how it looks.”

  “Sounds good,” Gabe agreed.

  I hopped back onto the four-wheeler I’d bought a couple of days ago. It was used, but the price tag had still given me the sweats. I headed for the hoop barn, pulling alongside the opening. I jumped out and went for just a single bale of hay. Even though I’d always been active, the work I’d been doing around the property had given me muscles I’d never known existed.

  As I set the hay down in the bed of the four-wheeler, I heard rustling. Just what I needed—little critters making their homes in the hay. I turned to look, but before I could, there was a flash of movement and then blinding pain.

  The entire world around me wavered and then darkened. But before I descended into the nothingness, I could’ve sworn someone said, “Sorry.”

  41

  Hayes

  I scrubbed a hand over my face and then blinked a few times as I stared down at the map again. No matter how long I stared at the damn thing, the little Xs I’d marked off where each attack had occurred, nothing became clear. I pushed back from my desk and stood, stretching my back. It might be time to walk the streets. I’d been locked up in this damn office for too long.

  My cell phone buzzed from somewhere on my desk. I patted down the map and other papers until I found the device. I swept my finger across the screen. “Easton.”

  “Hayes?” Shiloh’s voice was pained, with a shaky edge to it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We—Dad and I—we’re at the cabin with Everly. She went to get hay and didn’t come back for a while. So, I went to look for her, but she’s not here. The bale of hay is on the back of the four-wheeler, but I don’t see any sign of her anywhere.”

  “You checked the cabin?” The question was automatic, as if my response were preprogrammed. Because there was no way Ev could disappear. There was an explanation, a simple one. There had to be.

  “I checked, and Dad’s looking in the barn now. But I don’t see her—” Shy’s voice cut off.

  “What is it?” I was already moving, grabbing my keys and heading for the door.

  “Her phone. It’s on the ground.”

  “Don’t touch it.”

  “I won’t.”

  The desks in front of me blurred as I tried to weave through them. “I’m on my way. Don’t touch anything. Stay with Dad.”

  I hung up before she had a chance to say anything else. I pulled in a ragged breath, willing myself to hold it together. Ruiz was talking with the front desk officer, a new guy whose name
escaped me. He took one look at me and froze. “What is it?”

  “Ev. She’s gone.”

  “Where?”

  I spent the next seconds relaying all the information I had. Each breath I took seemed to claw at my insides, begging me to move, to get to the cabin, to find Everly. “That’s all I know. I have to go.”

  Ruiz reached out a hand, resting it on my shoulder. “You can’t work this case, Hayes.”

  I shook off his hold. “I’m not working it as the sheriff. But you know damn well you can’t stop me from looking for her.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to find her. Don’t think I won’t.”

  I turned on my heel and headed for the lot. Vehicles were already taking off, lights flashing, headed for Everly’s property. I jogged to my SUV and climbed in. I wasn’t above using my lights, too. I didn’t give a crap if it was an abuse of department resources since I wasn’t on this case.

  By the time I pulled up into Ev’s drive, I’d gone completely numb. It was necessary. If I didn’t, I’d lose it and would never be able to get it back. I pulled to a stop in a spot I knew I could get out of quickly. Switching off my engine, I hopped out of the SUV and jogged towards my sister and dad.

  Shy had her arms wrapped around herself. “I’m so sorry, Hayes. I should’ve gone with her. I never should’ve left her alone.”

  “Hey.” I grabbed her shoulders, and Shy jerked back. I let my hands fall but bent to meet her gaze. “This isn’t your fault. But I need you to tell me everything.”

  Shy and my dad walked me through their afternoon with Ev as officers pored over the area. Dad’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t hear anything. No scream. Nothing.”

  “Think. Did you hear an engine?”

  His eyes widened. “No. And we would’ve. We were done using any tools. We were just placing the feeder.”

  “He’s on horseback.” I scanned the surrounding forests. There were endless places for him to go. Up into the wilderness, out into national forest land, to a farm we had no idea about.

  “I’m getting Trick tacked up.” Shiloh started towards her horse.

  “Shy, stop. I have to call in Forest Service and our search and rescue teams.”

  Her hands clenched and flexed as she seemed to struggle to keep her breaths even. “And how long will it take them to assemble? I’ve got my rifle. I’ve got the sat phone and supplies.”

  “And I’ll go with her,” my father offered.

  A muscle in my cheek ticked. I was so damn torn. I wanted to go with them. But I also wanted to make a trip out to the Kemper ranch.

  Dad’s hand came down on my shoulder. “We’ll start the search here. When you’re ready, get Calder or someone to have your back and take another direction. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

  I knew he was right. But as I watched Shiloh put on Trick’s saddle, I couldn’t make myself move. I’d failed my sister once. Turned my back and almost lost her. How could I let her go now?

  My father squeezed my shoulder, bringing my attention back to him. “I’ve got her. I’ll keep her safe.”

  “Okay.” The single word was ripped from my throat.

  “You find Everly. Love that girl like she’s my own. And love her even more for what she’s brought out in you.”

  My eyes burned. “She’s everything to me.”

  “I know. So, you’re going to get her back.”

  “I will.” I clapped him on the shoulder and turned to head back to my SUV, but Ruiz stepped into my path.

  “What the hell is going on? And where do you think you’re going?”

  I ground my teeth together in an effort to keep my voice calm. “Dad and Shy are taking the horses to search. I’m going to talk to some people who might have seen her.”

  Ruiz’s eyes hardened. “Don’t fuck up this case. We need to do everything by the book.”

  “By the book doesn’t matter if we don’t get to her in time.”

  “It will if we can’t charge the asshole.”

  I knew he was thinking like law enforcement. The way I should be thinking. Only I couldn’t. Because Ev’s life was at stake. I’d never risk that for a conviction. “Do whatever you have to, and I’ll do the same.”

  “You can’t say you’re there as the sheriff,” he warned.

  “I know that.” I didn’t need the letters of the department behind me. I just needed a clue. A direction. Anything that would help me bring Everly home.

  42

  Everly

  The pain woke me. The battering against my skull. As if a hardcore metal band were practicing in my brain.

  My eyes fluttered the barest amount. Even the brief flashes of light those flutters let through hurt. I let out a low moan, rolling onto my back.

  Something clanged, the sound ricocheting around in my head, picking up speed with the beat in my brain. God, everything hurt. Slowly, my brain started functioning again. Where was I? Had I been in an accident? Taken a fall?

  I knew I needed to open my eyes. That was the only way for me to find answers. I tried again. The fluttering lasted for longer this time, but it still hurt like hell.

  I got flashes of a room. Similar to my cabin but different. Rougher around the edges.

  Finally, my eyes adjusted to the light. I had to squint, but I could see. It was a log cabin. Only one room, with a small kitchen that had a woodstove as a cooktop. There wasn’t an oven or a dishwasher, just the bare bones. Another woodstove stood in the opposite corner, with two wooden chairs in front of it. And beneath me was a bed.

  My stomach cramped at that knowledge and what it could mean. I frantically searched to see what I was wearing, but all of my clothes were in place. Only on top of my jeans, on my left ankle, was a chain. And that chain was locked with a padlock. My gaze followed the length of metal to a bolt in the wall.

  The meager food in my stomach roiled and pitched, but I swallowed the urge to lose my lunch on the floor. I needed whatever energy I had.

  I pushed to a sitting position. The room around me wavered as if I were seeing it through water. I stayed still until everything righted itself.

  Flipping through my memories, I tried to come up with an order of things. What had happened? I’d worked at the vet’s this morning. Built feeders with Gabe and Shiloh. I stiffened as I pictured driving to get the hay, launching it onto the four-wheeler…and then the flash of pain.

  My breaths came quicker but I forced myself to slow them again. To count in and out. To make them even and normal. Passing out would only get me hurt—or worse.

  “Think, Ev.” Tears sprang to my eyes as Hayes’ nickname came to my lips. I let my eyes close for the briefest moment, picturing his face in my mind in all of its many incarnations. Pissed off and angry. Free and loose in laughter. The tender way he looked at me when he told me he loved me.

  Tears slipped down my cheeks and off my chin. Why hadn’t I said the damn words? Why hadn’t I told him that he was everything to me, too? That for the first time, I had a place to truly rest—in him. It was the greatest gift I’d ever been given, and I hadn’t told him.

  I dug my fingers into my thighs, trying to pull myself together. I wasn’t going to give up yet. Couldn’t. I pushed to my feet and followed the chain to the wall. The bolt used to hold the metal looked more like something used in industrial construction than a mountain cabin. And there was no hope of me pulling it free alone.

  I moved along the wall, peeking out one of the two windows in the space. I saw one other outbuilding, but other than that…nothing. Not a road, not another building, nothing but brush and trees.

  I swallowed down the rising burn. No one would hear me if I screamed. No one would stumble upon me on their drive home.

  I tried to move more, to reach the kitchen. If I could just get a knife—anything to defend myself. The chain pulled taut with a clang. I stretched my arms out as far as they would go but was still feet shy of the counter or any drawer.


  I stepped back, letting the chain fall to the floor. At least when it was lax, it didn’t weigh on my ankle as badly. I tested its bounds, moving in a half-circle around the space, seeing what I could reach.

  Whoever had me had obviously done the same thing. And then had moved everything with any potential to be a weapon out of that sphere. The only thing I had in my space was a rug and the bed. The frame itself was heavy, made of thick wood. But it was also securely constructed. I wouldn’t be able to break it apart. At least not without a lot of noise and pain.

  I ran my hands over the posts and joints—no seams or lips I could grab hold of. Yet I kept moving my hands over the frame, not even entirely sure what I was looking for.

  Hope. A little bit of that reckless hope was what I was desperate for.

  I almost didn’t notice the first time my fingers ran over the slightly raised nail. But I paused, backtracking more slowly. There it was again. A single nail that hadn’t been hammered in fully. A mere millimeter of the head stuck up, but it was something.

  I patted my pockets, looking for anything possibly left behind. There was no multitool, of course. No cell phone. All that was left was a penny and a dime—the remnants of my lunch change from picking up at Spoons.

  I went for the dime first. Slowly and methodically, I worked it under the edge of the nail. My fingers cramped the longer I worked and sweat pooled on my brow. But, finally, I worked the penny under there, too. I had a coin on each side as I pulled.

  The nail moved a quarter of an inch, but my penny went flying across the room. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. I’d made progress. I had to keep going. I tried with just the dime, but it was no use.

  I tugged at it, and my fingers bled, a few tears slipping free. I grabbed at the quilt on the bed, finding a corner that was a bit thinner but still had a little padding. I gripped the nail as hard as I could through the fabric and pulled. Pain flared through my fingertips, but I didn’t stop.