Colby stopped again, and this time Ben did run into her and had to catch her shoulders to keep from knocking her flat. She slapped his hands away, a fine outrage smoldering in her. "Pete Jessup quit drinking when my father died, you turncoat! He's been invaluable around here."

"Colby," Ben said, his voice persuasive and gentle, "the truth is you took in that homeless old coot out of the goodness of your heart. I doubt if he did more than eat your food every day. He's a broken-down cowboy, a drifter. He's just taken off somewhere. He'll turn up eventually."

"You would say that," she sniffed, truly aggravated with him. "It's just like you to let the disappearance of an old man and sneak thieves go by the wayside so you can mix with some rich idiots who are here to try to steal my brother and sister."

"Colby, come on, they proved they're relatives and they claim they have the children's best interests at heart. The least you can do is listen to them."

"You probably agree with them, don't you? Paul and Ginny are not better off with that group. You don't know anything about it, or them. Paul would end up just like them, so arrogant no one could stand him, and poor little Ginny would grow up thinking she was a second-class citizen because she's female. They can all go straight to hell for all I care!"

Although it was early evening and still relatively light, the sky suddenly darkened as ominous black clouds boiled up out of nowhere. A cold wind arrived on the wings of the dark mass, tugging sharply at Colby's clothes. A shiver of apprehension blew straight down her spine. For a moment something touched her mind. She felt it, felt the struggle for entrance.

"What is it?"

Colby could see Ben was clearly uneasy as he turned in a slow circle to scan the surrounding area. He had his hand on his gun, unsure what was stalking them or where the threat was coming from, but he obviously felt it as well.