Untamed by Terri Farley Page B

the ranchers around here have rifles. I’ve got one at home. Relax.”
    â€œBut he uses it!”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    To convince Jake to stop being foolhardy, she’d have to tell him the truth.
    â€œToday,” she blurted. “I saw him use it today. He was trying to shoot horses and he wasn’t trying to miss me, okay? He doesn’t care if he hurts people.”
    â€œMighta been nice if you’d mentioned this to me before, Brat,” Jake commented in a strained but level tone.
    â€œI’m mentioning it now,” Sam moaned. “Please, let’s get out of here before he recognizes me!”
    Jake cranked the steering wheel hard right and spun the truck around. The fact that he’d taken her warning to heart should have made her feel better. Instead, she was even more scared.
    Sam leaned forward as if it would help the truck speed across the range. Suddenly the tires hit a series of mud ruts, which had dried into ridges that were as hard as concrete. They bounced in jerky jolts until the truck veered right, jarring Sam’s head against the passenger window with a sharp crack.
    As if she could hide from the pain, Sam closed her eyes. The darkness welcomed her. If she could only stay there, for a minute…

Chapter Eight
    S am felt dizzy.
    She heard a loud stomp. Was it Jake putting on the emergency brake?
    A click. Jake releasing his seat belt?
    Then Sam sensed something scrabbling toward her. Her eyes popped wide open.
    Jake loomed over her in the dark truck.
    â€œAre you okay? That was your head hitting the window, wasn’t it? I don’t even believe this.”
    â€œI’m fine,” she said, pushing at his chest. “Back off, can’t you? Is he still after us?”
    Jake ignored her question and her shoves.
    â€œYou’re supposed to avoid another blow to the head,” he said as one hand pushed aside her hair andhis fingers explored her temple.
    It was creepy, the way he felt gently for cuts or blood. It was stupid, too. Those injuries would mean nothing if the hermit caught up with them.
    â€œForget about my head, look!”
    The headlights were still coming. They cut crazy, slashing patterns through the darkness. Sam squinted as a spotlight shone from the top of the blocky, black-and-white vehicle. Was it stopping?
    The light was so blindingly bright, she didn’t see the figure until it was at the driver’s side window.
    â€œYou kids okay?” Sheriff Ballard shouted.
    Sam touched her chest, trying to slow the thud of her pounding heart. This must be how a rabbit felt when it had been chased by a coyote, then escaped into its burrow.
    Jake opened the door on his side of the truck.
    â€œJake Ely, right?”
    Sam guessed the sheriff recognized Jake for the tracking help he’d given the police once.
    â€œYes, sir,” Jake said. He didn’t look surprised when the sheriff shone the beam of his flashlight inside.
    Sam squinted against the brightness. With her eyes almost closed, she said, “I’m Samantha Forster.”
    â€œWyatt’s girl, and you’ve got your seat belt on, so that jouncing didn’t hurt you much. Am I right?”
    Before Sam could say anything, Jake did.
    â€œShe banged her head against the window.”
    And here came the flashlight again. Sam closed hereyes against light so bright the blood vessels in her eyelids shone sizzling red. Her head felt fine, but her retinas would probably never be the same.
    â€œLooks okay,” the sheriff said. “But you’ll want to tell your dad you got a bump, make sure nothin’ comes of it.”
    â€œI will,” Sam promised. That was a conversation she wasn’t looking forward to. She’d just hope she didn’t have to have it in front of Jake.
    He was as protective as a bear with one cub, and just about as easy to reason with. Sam started to shake her head at the silly comparison, but when