“Just about that,” McFarland said.

Gard hadn’t attended the foaling, which was normal for uncomplicated deliveries. A seasoned farmer could handle normal births and even some complicated ones without veterinarian assistance. Sometimes she wasn’t called in until situations had turned desperate, but that was the job. She hadn’t grown up among the independent, self-sufficient people she now counted as her friends and neighbors, but when she’d moved into their midst, she’d instinctively recognized that here, unlike the circles she was used to, wealth, power, and position did not earn respect. Only honesty and competence did, and she worked hard to deserve it. “Nothing unusual with the birth?”

“This one was her second, and easy. Can’t say as I’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary with her.”

“Hold her head so I can get a listen.”

They eased carefully into the stall so as not to startle her, and while John held the lead shank, Gard listened to her abdomen. “Pretty quiet. Heart rate’s good, though. Let’s get a tube down and empty her stomach.”

Gard opened her kit and pulled out a thick coil of rubber tubing to pass through the mare’s nose into her stomach as well as a long plastic sleeve for the rectal exam. When the intestines failed to function because of mechanical obstruction or surrounding inflammation, gas and fluid built up in the stomach. If it wasn’t evacuated, the stomach could rupture, which always led to death.

“Ready?”

McFarland nodded, gripping the rope attached to the halter close to the side of the mare’s head.

Gard slid the lubricated nasogastric tube into the horse’s nostril and gently advanced it until bilious fluid and air came rushing out. She nudged a bucket over with her foot to catch the drainage. “Not a whole lot.”

McFarland grunted. The relatively small volume of accumulated fluid in the stomach indicated that whatever was wrong had not progressed very far, which was an excellent sign. Once the evacuation was complete, Gard removed the tube and went to work at the other end of the mare. After she stripped down to her T-shirt, she slipped a long plastic glove over her right arm to well above her elbow. She squeezed some lubricant into her palm and carefully eased her hand into the horse’s rectum. She went slowly, knowing the mare was in pain. She didn’t want to get kicked and she didn’t want to risk damaging the fragile colon. When she was nearly at the extent of her reach, she encountered a sizable amount of manure and carefully loosened the mass, extracting as much as she could. Inverting the glove and tying it off, she set the specimen next to her kit to examine in the lab for parasites or unusual foreign materials.

“I don’t feel anything twisted. Might be she’s just impacted,” Gard said. “There’s quite a lot up there. I’ll put some water with a little mineral oil down the tube and see if that doesn’t loosen her up. That and some Banamine for the pain may do it.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her the next couple of hours,” McFarland said.

“Call me if she gets worse,” Gard said after she administered the medications.

“Thanks, Doc.”

Gard gathered up her equipment and hauled the tackle boxes back out to her truck. After storing them away, she climbed into the cab, where Beam greeted her as if she’d been gone for a week. She pulled out a billing form from a plastic file box she kept on the floor on the passenger side and quickly filled in the appropriate spaces so her office manager could send the bill. Then she fished around in the glove box for her cell phone and checked the number Rina Gold had given her.

Time to call Jenna Hardy.

Jenna came to amidst a cacophony of voices that were way too loud, a glaring white light that was way too bright, and a murderous headache that made her want to vomit. With a moan, she draped her forearm over her eyes.

“Jenna?” Alice asked. “Sweetheart, are you awake?”

“God, I wish I weren’t. What the hell happened?”

“You…fainted.”

Jenna lifted her arm enough to open her eyes and peered up at Alice. “Fainted? I never faint. Are you sure?”

“Believe me, I’m very sure. You scared the living hell out of me.”

“Where am I?”

“At the first aid station at the airport.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Just a few minutes. The ambulance is on its way.”

Jenna pushed herself up on her elbows, suddenly much more awake. “Ambulance? What for? I’m fine.” She stared around the barren cubicle. A single molded plastic chair, a two-drawer metal cabinet with a steel tray of wooden tongue depressors and a box of latex gloves on top, and a wall-mounted blood pressure cuff were the only furnishings. She was on a narrow stretcher with a thin sheet covering her to the waist. Thankfully, she still had all her clothes on. “Where’s my briefcase? My computer’s in it. The galleys—”

Alice pointed to the floor. “I have your things right here.”

Jenna sighed. “I backed up my latest chapter on a jump drive but I didn’t send it off-site yet. If I lost that—”

“Don’t worry about any of that.” Alice gripped Jenna’s hand. “Lie back down. Seriously, Jenna. You went down hard and you need to rest.”

“What time is it? We need to get through security.” Jenna impatiently threw off the sheet and swung her legs over the side of stretcher. Immediately, her head swirled, her stomach somersaulted, and she scrunched her eyes closed to stop the merry-go-round. “God, I must have a migraine. I’ve never had one before. I will never badmouth people who say they get migraines ever, ever again.”

Alice circled Jenna’s shoulders. “We don’t know what’s going on right now. But you need to lie back down. I’ve canceled our flight.”

“You what?” Jenna gaped. “Alice! I’ve got a signing scheduled this afternoon and a two-hour event tonight. We’ll never make it if we don’t take this flight.”

Alice braced both hands on her hips, her expression one Jenna couldn’t decipher, and she’d seen Alice in every situation imaginable. “I’ve canceled the rest of the tour.”

Jenna gripped the edge of the metal stretcher, panic making her limbs weak. “What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t had a vacation in two years. You’ve been pushing—” Alice looked away, her voice tight. “I’ve been pushing you at an inhuman pace for the last six months. You need to slow down. You need to take a break.”

“I can’t take a break! I’ve got deadlines. I need to tour. I’ve got a new book to promote—”

“Your new book is going to do fine without you schlepping around the country touting it at bookstores. That’s what happens when you’re a bestseller. Your name sells your books.”

“I’m not there yet,” Jenna said, alarm flooding her chest. She couldn’t go back. She’d never go back. Her writing was her ticket to the life she wanted, the life she needed. “Alice—”

“It’s done, Jenna,” Alice said. “The tour is off.”

Jenna’s stomach lurched, letting her know in no uncertain terms if she didn’t lie back down, there would be nasty repercussions. Reluctantly, she settled back and covered herself with the sheet. “What did you tell them?”

“That you had an unexpected change in an upcoming deadline and that you’re terribly sorry to disappoint any of your readers, but you thought they’d be happier if you were writing your next book so they could get it on time.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.” Alice stroked Jenna’s hair. “Let’s just take care of you. You need a thorough physical and a vacation.”

“One step at a time. I’ll get checked out, if that will make you happy.” They could argue over what came after that later, but Jenna was certain of one thing. She wasn’t taking a break. “Then we can decide what I’m going to do next.”

Alice looked like she was about to protest, but then a ringing cell phone interrupted her. She glanced down at her waist and then at Jenna’s briefcase. “It’s yours. You want me to get it?”

“No,” Jenna said, holding out her hand. “I can take it.”

The call had to be business, and business was exactly what she needed.

“Hello?” Jenna said.

“Ms. Hardy, this is Dr. Davis. I’m—”

“That was certainly fast,” Jenna said, unable to squelch her irritation. She did not want to deal with any more of this until she could deal on her own terms, not lying flat on her back with a pounding head and a queasy stomach. “I don’t have my calendar right at hand, but—”

“I’m sorry?” The woman on the other end of the line had a resonant, alto voice. She also sounded confused and slightly annoyed.

“Really, I’m sure my agent told you we’re still at the airport. I’ll make an appointment—”

“I’m afraid you might be confused about the reason for my call, Ms. Hardy.”

Jenna could see Alice frowning and she held the phone away from her mouth and whispered, “Did you call a doctor’s office to set up an appointment for me? Give them my number?”

“No,” Alice said. “I’m fast, but I’m not that fast. Besides, you’re going to see my doctor. I’ll take care of making the arrangements. Who is that?”

“I have no idea.” Jenna stared at the phone. “Who is this?”

“As I said a moment ago,” the smoky-smooth voice responded, the slight edge having blossomed into unmistakable irritation, “my name is Gardner Davis—”

“You said you were a doctor?”

“Yes, I’m—” She sighed, paused, and finally said, “I’m sorry. I’m sure this call has come out of nowhere and I’m not explaining the situation very well. I’m calling from Little Falls, Vermont. I’m the county coroner. I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but we believe that a distant relative of yours has died and you’re the next of kin.”

“Well, you’ve made a mistake,” Jenna snapped. “I don’t know anyone in Vermont. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever even been to Vermont.”

A dry chuckle came down the line. “From what we’ve been able to trace through a records search, Elizabeth Hardy would have been a very distant relative. She was in her nineties. We’re not a hundred percent certain, which is why I have a few questions, bu—”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Gardner Davis.”

“As I said, Dr. Davis, you’re mistaken.” Jenna hadn’t talked to Darlene since she’d left home eleven years ago, a few months before her eighteenth birthday. She thought there might be a half brother or sister somewhere from the father she’d never known, but she’d never met them and didn’t care to. That life was far behind her, a different existence—before Cassandra. Before everything that mattered. She didn’t have any family, she didn’t want any family, and she didn’t have time for this now. “I’m afraid I have to go.”

“If you could just give me a moment,” Davis said.

“This is pointless. I know I don’t have any relatives in Vermont.”

“Is your father’s name Frank?”

Jenna shivered violently, her skin instantly clammy and her heart racing.

“Jenna?” Alice said. “You just went white as a sheet. What is it? Let me take this call.”

Alice held out her hand for the phone, but Jenna shook her head. She swallowed but her throat was so dry it hurt. “Yes, but that’s an awfully common name. I told you, I don’t know anyone in Vermont.”

“What about Lancaster, PA?” Davis asked quietly.

Jenna closed her eyes. “Not anymore.”

“We believe that Elizabeth Hardy is related to the Frank Hardy who lived in the Lancaster, Pennsylvania area, with a daughter named Jenna. Is that you?”

No. No, it isn’t me. Not anymore. I’m not her. Jenna had trouble catching her breath.

“Ms. Hardy?”

Jenna’s stomach finally won the battle over her willpower. Dropping the phone onto the bed, she clamped her hand over her mouth and looked desperately at Alice.

“Hold on, sweetheart.” Alice yanked open one of the drawers in the metal cabinet. She pulled out a plastic washbasin just in time for Jenna to empty the sparse contents of her stomach into it.

Gard pressed her phone against her ear, straining to make out the distant sounds. The entire call had been disjointed, as if she and the woman on the other end weren’t really speaking on the same frequency. She thought she detected someone moaning.

“Hello? Ms. Hardy? Hello?”

She stared at the screen—the readout informed her the connection had been lost. She pushed redial, got voicemail. Damn it, she’d handled that all wrong. She punched in Rina’s number, replaying the strange conversation with Jenna Hardy. The woman’s strained voice and stubborn denials left her feeling unsettled and uneasy.

“Rina, it’s Gard. I didn’t have much luck with the Jenna Hardy whose number you gave me. She swears she doesn’t have any relatives up here.”

“Well,” Rina said, “none she knows of maybe. But she’s the right woman. I’ve got a long paper trail to be certain of it. Besides that, I woke Sherm Potter up. Since he’s the only attorney in Little Falls, I figured he’d have the will.”