Chapter 11
I sat in Sienna's apartment in Gold Coast, only it wasn't Sienna's apartment, for the far wall looked out over the Condamine River Ranch. Standing at the entrance, the man on the painted stallion stood next to his horse, a dark figure wearing a black drover's hat, his expression grim. The painted stallion, which seemed bigger every time I saw him, bowed his head up and down, trying to dislodge his bit, and pawed the ground.
Come, he beckoned.
"What are you doing here?"
I checked to make sure I wasn't wearing slippers, for if I wore slippers, I knew I must be sleepwalking. No, I was fully dressed.
"Go away," I said. "Your son threw me off your land."
The man on the painted stallion grabbed the saddle horn and swung up into his saddle in a smooth, well-practiced move. The ho
