little lady a glass of wine, son. If she wants one.â
âYes plââ
âNo. Hope wonât have any. And Mr Crow, Caleb, might I insist that just as you have a name, my daughter, Hope, also has a name.â
Cal had already stood up. Hopeâs eyes flickered to his, and held. He hesitated, then sat back down, still looking at her.
âOh well, sure. Didnât mean nothing by it.â His father began to make stilted conversation about Meredithâs research.
Hope picked miserably at her food, appetite gone. The Crows ate a lot, helping themselves to more, listening attentively to Meredith.
âConsidering how vast swathes of Montana have suffered so terribly with the pollution from mining, the ranch is a remarkable survival story.â
Calâs father nodded. âThe problems are more down Butte way, but yes, this state has got more than its fair share of troubles because of mining. Then again, a lot of Montana was built on mining, so thatâs a snake eating its own tail.â
Hopeâs phone chimed in her pocket. She pulled it out, wondering who would be texting her in the early hours from England. The message displayed on the screen. She shoved the phone back into her jeans.
âWho was that?â Meredithâs voice was sharp.
âNo one.â
âNo one doesnât text you at three in the morning.â
Hope studied her plate. âItâs just one of those welcome to a foreign country messages.â
Meredith stood up and held out her hand. âGive it to me.â
âHonestly. Theyâre just reminding me to make sure my data roaming is turned off. Which it is.â
âGive.â
Hope put the phone into her motherâs hand. When Meredith finally spoke, her voice was thick with emotion.
âYou told me you didnât have any contact with him.â
âI donât. Much. Heâs having a break on a night shoot and was trying to make sure we got here safely.â
Meredithâs voice rose. âA night shoot? For this ridiculous detective thing? And you told him we were coming here? When?â
âHe emailed.â
â Emailed ? How does he have your address?â
Hope hesitated. âJames messaged me.â James was the eldest of Hopeâs half-brothers. There was only three months between them. The row was escalating, and there seemed to be nothing at all Hope could do about it.
âMessaged you how?â
Biting her lip, Hope cringed. âOn Facebook.â
âFacebook? We agreed social media wasnât healthy.â
Hopeâs fingers tightened around her fork, white-knuckled. âNo. You told me it wasnât. The way you tell me what to do all the time.â
Meredithâs volume rose again. âOnly to protect you. Thatâs all.â
âI donât need protecting from your problems with what he did to us. I need a life of my own,â Hope flat-out yelled back.
âHow could you? After everything? How could you betray me like this?â Tears glittered in Meredithâs eyes.
Hope pushed up from the table and headed for the door to the terrace, almost blinded by her own tears. She felt sick and dizzy. The bluff in front of her spun as her knees gave out and the hard wooden decking came up to meet her.
I have no idea for how long I was unconscious. The carriage had shattered on impact, leaving me lying upon a large piece of padded seating, which had apparently saved my life. The only thing I could see clearly were the four huge brown mounds of the horses, nearby. Flies were already gathering over their corpses. A crow perched on the head of the closest one, and began to feast on the animalâs eye. Bile rose in my throat. That would soon be my fate, if I didnât get up.
I tried. Part of the coach siding was pinning me across the chest. Every bone in my body felt broken and the back of my head was a sticky mess of agony. Even lifting my hands to push at the
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