She veered off the highway toward the mountains without planning to, or actually knowing what she’d done until the Porsche was careening past the Esperanza ranch. A crude sign marked the turn off to High Trails, below that a small sign that said Mountain Vista.
Her heart raced, her mouth went dry. She felt parched and tired. The further up the steep grade she drove, the more her insides warred. Suddenly, she stopped the car with every intention of racing back down the mountain to safety, but there was no place to turn around. The road had narrowed and looking over the edge into the valley, she could feel the nausea creep on her fast.
She started up again still looking for a turnaround, anywhere she might go, but then she was there, at Mountain Vista, the neat cabin set staunchly in the m
