Castle Rock

Published 2014 by Seventh Street Books™, an imprint of Prometheus Books

Castle Rock
. Copyright © 1983 by Carolyn Hart. Introduction, copyright © 2014 by Carolyn Hart. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, digital, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or conveyed via the Internet or a website without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover image ©Shutterstock.com/Regien Paassen
Cover design by Jacqueline Nasso Cooke

 

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The Library of Congress has cataloged the printed edition as follows:

 

Hart, Carolyn G.

Castle rock / by Carolyn Hart.

pages ; cm.

“First published: London: Robert Hale, LTD, 1983.”

ISBN 978-1-61614-873-7 (pbk.)

ISBN 978-1-61614-874-4 (ebook)

1. Ranch life—Fiction. I. Title.

 

PS3558.A676C37 2014

813'.54—dc23

2013036738

Printed in the United States of America

 

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Escape from Paris

Death by Surprise

Brave Hearts

I wrote
Castle Rock
many years ago, but its theme recurs in many of my books. What went wrong in the lives of those involved? What led someone with other good qualities to put themselves and their desires above the lives and happiness of others?
Castle Rock
explores family dynamics and the warping of character when ordinary people succumb to temptations.

Many terrific mysteries focus on social issues, but I am always more absorbed in individuals, why they do what they do, what matters to them, what lifts their spirits or destroys them. Agatha Christie once wrote that traditional mysteries are parables. I believe, too, that the mystery affords readers an opportunity to question their own attitudes and responses to life. If this, Dear Reader, is how you live . . .

Castle Rock
is a romantic suspense novel. I enjoyed writing about Serena and Jed and Uncle Dan and Danny, and I hope today's readers will enjoy reading about them and the New Mexico they love.

It was dangerous. Serena knew that, but she had always been a fool for danger. She bent a little closer to Hurricane's neck and urged him to go faster. Behind her, above the clatter of the horses' hooves and the rattle of stones falling from the narrow trail, she heard Jed's shout.

“Serena, stop! For God's sake, you little fool, stop!”

A tiny smile flickered on her intent face, but, eyes narrowed, hands steady, she and Hurricane thundered down the trail, faster, faster, faster. The tough bent shrubs clinging to the rocky mountain wall melded into a blur. She could hear nothing now above the whistle of the air, the labored breathing of Hurricane, and the thunder of his hooves. As they reached the final curve, Serena felt an instant's doubt. Had she, this time, gone too far? Could they, could she and Hurricane, manage the turn at this pace?

Then, oh good horse, good horse, he kept to the curving trail, and then they plunged out onto the broad level sweep of plain with Castle Rock gleaming a hard red in the distance. Serena laughed aloud and her long silky black hair blew back from her face. Her green eyes shone with excitement and triumph. Gradually, she reined Hurricane in. What fun, what incredible fun.

Jed pulled even with her and Hurricane and Chieftain slowed together. Serena flashed Jed a blithe smile, but he scowled in return. As the horses, their necks and flanks stained with sweat, slowed to a trot, he asked angrily, “Are you crazy?”

Her heart began to race. He had been so aloof until now, so perfectly the new employee. Oh, she had his attention now. She liked the way anger lighted up his startlingly blue eyes and how the furious pace had ruffled his thick black hair and brought a flush to his darkly tanned face.

She laughed. “Don't you like to live dangerously, Jed?”

He stared at her, then, abruptly, without warning, he reached out and pulled her close to him and kissed her as violently as she had ridden down the trail. Hurricane and Chieftain moved uneasily against each other and Hurricane gave a low whinny.

Serena, surprised, then delighted, welcomed the pressure of his lips on hers, the hard feel of his hands against her shoulders.

He released her abruptly and pulled away on Chieftain. His blue eyes still glinted with anger. “You could have killed yourself. And Hurricane, too,” he said accusingly.

Serena smiled again. “I have a lot of confidence in Hurricane—and myself.”

“Do you always take such damn fool chances?” he demanded.

The horses were walking now, weary after their hard ride. Serena urged Hurricane into the lead.

She took her time answering. It seemed important suddenly to answer truthfully. She didn't want there to be artifice between them. Not now. Not ever. She looked back and, for an instant, remembered last summer and Peter. Peter had attracted her, too. But this time it was different. Jed was different. What was it about Jed that gave him an aura so distinctly different from anyone she had ever known? Was it the easy way he lounged in his saddle? The way his faded Levis and worn flannel shirt fitted his lean body? The intent look in his eyes when she came near?

She felt confused suddenly. It was none of these. Or all of them. Or was it, really, the workings of her own desire, investing this handsome stranger with qualities of power and grace? Was it, she wondered brutally, the fact that he was here, an undeniably attractive man, and she was lonely?

But, whatever there was going to be between them, let it begin honestly.

“I'm afraid,” she said slowly, “that I do take chances. Always.” Her green eyes looked at him gravely. “Is that . . . such a bad thing, Jed?”

Then Uncle Dan caught up with them and they were once again Jed Shelton, the new hand, and Serena Mallory, the young and lovely ward of Dan McIntire, owner of the magnificent Castle Rock ranch.

Dan McIntire dominated the barren country. He rode a huge coal black horse and the two of them threw a massive moving shadow against the sandy dusty ground. McIntire's face was rugged, seamed by summer suns and winter winds. He was frowning as he looked toward Serena.

“A little too fast there, honey.”

“Hurricane was born to race.”

“Not down a canyon trail.”

“Hurricane knows the way.”

“Even a smart horse can make a mistake.”

Serena knew the best defense. “Now Uncle Dan,” she chided, “you are a great one to give advice about horses. Everybody in the county has warned you about Senator.” As she spoke she looked at her uncle's horse. Senator moved jerkily under tight rein. His eyes rolled. He was, everyone knew, a dangerous undependable beast, so why was Dan McIntire so stubborn about him?

Uncle Dan knew the best defense, too. “Oh, get along with you, Serena. I've managed Senator for ten years now.” He looked down grimly at the big horse beneath him, black ears flattened. “Senator and I have an understanding. I'm boss.”

“Well, you'd better never let him forget it,” she said lightly. She dug her boots into Hurricane and they surged ahead of the men. “Are we almost there?”

“Just about,” Jed replied.

The little party broke into a trot, clattering across the cactus-studded plain. A half-mile ahead rose the immense jagged mound of red rock, curved and crenellated into a thousand exotic shapes, that gave the ranch its name, Castle Rock.

“It was at the north end. I saw it yesterday from the plane,” Jed explained. “It's damn strange.”

They rode three abreast now and Dan McIntire was looking up toward the mass of rock. “Is there anything more beautiful in the world?” he asked, his deep voice soft.

It didn't require an answer. This was Dan McIntire's world, the rugged emptiness of New Mexico, where the sun burns high in a sky that seems to stretch to infinity, lighting the earth in delicate colors, tan and beige merging into camel, and yellows so pale they shimmer like silk.

Serena, too, looked up toward Castle Rock. She felt a burst of happiness. Could there ever be a happier day? To ride, the light warm breeze stirring her hair, with two men who in sharply different ways pleased her so, to be young and free, at home in a world she understood. She wished, suddenly, that this morning could go on forever, nothing changing. She reached out, gently touched her uncle's arm. “Oh, it is lovely, isn't it?”

She was so glad she had accompanied them this morning although the object of their ride didn't interest her. Why should she care about an odd pile of stones that Jed had noticed from the air? He had been up in the Aerocommander, the five-passenger single engine plane her uncle used to keep tabs on the herds. It was another plus for Jed that he could pilot the plane.