"I hired this man to teach me, but he never shows up. I love to watch you ride, and when I'm on a horse I feel so free. I love the wind in my face and the way the horse moves, flowing across the ground. I know I could live here, even without my brother. I don't spend much out of my trust fund, Esteban blows through his portion every month, but I could buy property here and be happy."

Lea sighed and stroked her finger down her bruised cheek. "It can be lonely in the middle of a crowd, Marguarita. I just don't feel I fit anywhere. Not until I came here. I know I seem sort of prissy to you, but I'm a hard worker. I can learn. I just want to find peace."

"He's all I have. We have the family business and I could go back and work there, but my uncle is the only one alive that's family other than Esteban. I didn't even know him before my parents were killed in a small plane crash. He's older and very rigid. Esteban can't stand the sight of him and unfortunately, my uncle lets him know at every opportunity that he's a spoiled rich kid. That just seems to egg Esteban on. I was hoping if I was with him, he'd stop doing such dangerous things."

Lea bit at her lower lip. "He uses cocaine. At first it was recreational, and I tried not to get upset about it. Really everyone we knew used it. But Esteban can't go a day without it now. I've tried to talk to him about it, but he says I don't know how to have fun. He thinks I'm a workaholic. I used to work for my parents. Esteban was rather spoiled by my father and dad encouraged him to be a playboy."

Lea nodded. "I think that's what made him so vulnerable to DS. He started doing

more drugs and partying hard. He jumps out of airplanes, skis very hazardous mountains, anything that's dangerous, he does it. No matter what I say to him, I can't stop him." She rubbed her temples as if she had a headache. "I can't keep following him around the world trying to keep him alive. He won't listen to me."

Lea sent her a small smile. "I appreciate your listening. It's been a long time since I felt like I had a real friend I could confide in. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do to get me and Esteban out of this mess, but you've made me feel better."

Marguarita wanted to invite her to stay, but with Zacarias in residence and knowing Esteban and DS were looking to meet a De La Cruz, she felt she had to protect Zacarias. But still, she felt afraid for Lea.

Lea shrugged. "Esteban loves me. He doesn't believe DS would really hurt either one of us, but if it came down to it, I believe he would protect me. And I plan on avoiding DS. I just wanted you to know not to trust them when they come here. And they'll come. I just don't know what they're up to. Once I'm back home I can try to get Esteban to tell me."

Marguarita shook her head quickly.

Lea nodded. "I guess I shouldn't worry. And the De La Cruz family is very powerful. They probably have people like DS targeting them all the time."

The warning siren went off alerting Marguarita that something had happened somewhere on the ranch. Marguarita leaped to her feet, racing toward the front door. She could hear the pounding of hooves as horsemen approached the house at a wild gallop. Marguarita flung the door open. Julio stood with his fist upraised, face white beneath his tan, his clothes covered in blood.

"We need the helicopter pilot, Marguarita. Ricco's been gored. His horse threw him and the cattle stampeded. It's bad. Really bad."

She raced back into the bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kit while Julio made the call for the pilot.

Julio was swearing when she reached his side. She sketched a question mark.

"Charlie's drinking again. He's gone just when we need him most." Julio shoved his hand through his hair. "He won't make it if we don't get him to a hospital."

"I can fly a helicopter," Lea said. "I have a license. I can fly small planes as well. My father owned a charter service, and we all learned to fly."

Julio swung around to scowl at the woman as if she'd grown two heads. "You better know what you're talking about. Ricco's going to die if we don't get him medical attention."

Color crept up Lea's neck into her face. "I can fly him to the hospital. I've logged hundreds of hours in a helicopter and more in small planes. I can fly just about anything. It's what my family did."

"Then you're the pilot," Julio said. "Let's go. Come on, Marguarita, you're going to have to try to keep him alive until we make it to help."

They ran toward the big hangar housing the aircraft. One thing she had always been grateful to the De La Cruz family for was the first-class equipment they always supplied. The ranch was out so far that they used aircraft for medical aid as well as for checking the cattle and horses in the hills and fields.

"Is your helicopter kept in good condition?" Lea asked, running to keep up with Julio's longer strides.

"Yes. It's always serviced after every run. But you'd better double-check. I have no idea how long Charlie's been drinking this time," Julio replied grimly.

Several men rushed toward the hangar, carrying Ricco on a stretcher. Marguarita raced to intercept them, trying to inspect the wound as they took him to the helicopter. The steer had caught Ricco in the abdomen and it looked bad. Very bad. She didn't think, even with a surgeon standing by, that he had much of a chance. She glanced at the sky and looked over the stretcher at Julio, a question in her eyes.

Julio looked as grim as she felt. He wasn't stupid. He'd seen what a maddened steer could do before. The sun was still a ball in the sky, but it was dropping slowly. The sky was clear with few clouds. They had a good hour before sunset. Ricco didn't have that kind of time. She'd seen what the sun had done to Zacarias. She shook her head. Julio glared at her as the men carefully loaded Ricco into the helicopter. Marguarita climbed in beside him and tore open his shirt.

She gasped and put pressure on the wound. There was no way he could possibly make it, no matter how fast they got the helicopter into the air.

Zacarias. She didn't want to force him to tell her he couldn't help, but the wound was ghastly and no way would Ricco make it alive to the hospital. I need you. She had no idea if he would answer her call or even care, but she had to try.

The stirring in her mind was instantaneous, as if all along he had been aware of her awake and out of the house. Are you hurt? His voice was filled with concern for her and strangely it warmed her.

Not me. Ricco, one of the workers. We're going to take him to the hospital, but he won't make it if you can't help us.

You wish me to do this for you?

Her heart leaped, stuttered and then began to pound. His voice was so matter-of-fact and in truth, she wasn't entirely certain what she was asking of him - but he'd managed to save her and she never should have lived.

What is the risk to you? She had to know. She bit at her lower lip, suddenly terrified of what she was asking of him. Nothing can happen to you.

There was a moment that she felt him in her mind, touching every part of her, a brushing caress completely at odds with his lethal presence.

Show me the wound. Look directly at it.

Marguarita steeled herself. The horn had penetrated deep and she was certain the tear had all but killed Ricco. It was fortunate he was unconscious because she had nothing to stop the pain. She forced herself to stare at Ricco's torn stomach, trying to send her own impressions to Zacarias.

Put your hands on the wound and apply pressure. Go deep, Marguarita.

She'd dealt with lacerations, but never anything like this. She was no nurse, but she was all Ricco had. She closed her eyes and did as Zacarias instructed. Her hands sank into blood and gore with a horrible sound.

Soft laughter teased her mind. I have to see, kislany ku��enak minan  -  my little lunatic . Keep your eyes open.

Swallowing hard she did so. She felt heat move through her body. Her hands tingled and grew hot. Her fingers moved of their own accord and somehow, for one moment, she was no longer inside her own body, but tied to Zacarias and moving through Ricco's body. It was an odd wrenching sensation leaving her physical body behind and streaming through another human. Her stomach rebelled, but she fought hard to stay in control, breathing deep.

Just as abruptly she was back, a little dizzy and feeling weak. She could tell Zacarias was even weaker than she was.

That should hold him until he gets to a surgeon, but he's lost too much blood, Marguarita. I will have to give him mine or all of this is for naught.

Do you want us to bring him back into the house? Can you make it up this time of day?

Do not take the chance of moving him again. I will come to you.

But you can't. He couldn't. The sun would burn him. What had she done? Please don't sacrifice your life.

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