Montana Hearts. Charlotte Carter

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      “Doesn’t he have a cell phone? We could call him.”

      Beth stopped eating. Her gaze darted around the room, looking everywhere except right at Sarah.

      “You don’t know anything about living on a ranch, do you?” she said in a disdainful way. “There are dead zones out here where you can’t get any cell service.”

      “I saw you texting on your cell last night.”

      Beth’s fair complexion bloomed with a spark of anger.

      “That was here at the ranch. Not way off in the north section.”

      “Well, then, we have a problem, don’t we.” Picking up her tea cup, Sarah walked over to the sink and set the cup down. “I can’t let you go anywhere unless I’m sure you have your father’s permission.”

      Stunned, she widened her eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” she screeched.

      Sarah winced. She really didn’t like confrontations. “No, I’m not, Beth. If there is no way to reach your father, then we’ll simply have to wait until he gets back home.”

      “No way!”

      Sarah knew her response wasn’t what Beth had hoped for. She was equally sure Kurt had grounded his daughter. Until she heard otherwise, she’d do whatever she could to keep Beth at home.

      As calmly as possible, Sarah rinsed out her cup and set it on the drain board.

      “You can’t do this to me,” Beth protested. “You’re not my mother.”

      Sarah dried her hands on a paper towel. “Do you know where the furniture polish is kept?”

      Making a growling sound like a angry bear, Beth threw up her hands. “Okay, you win. We’ll get Dad back here, and he’ll tell you that you’re not in charge of me.” She stormed toward the back door.

      Not knowing what the girl was up to, Sarah followed her outside. The border collie she’d seen yesterday met them on the porch, his tail sweeping the air that still smelled of burned steak.

      Beth stood in front of a large bronze gong hanging from an overhead beam. Fancy scrollwork made it look as though it had originally come from China.

      “Hit this as hard as you can.” The muscle in Beth’s jaw flexed, her eyes narrowed as she handed Sarah the hammer. “He’ll hear it wherever he is. Then you’ll see.”

      Using a gong to communicate seemed primitive to Sarah, but she gave it a solid whack. The metal vibrated, sending out waves of sound that echoed inside Sarah’s skull and started the dog howling.

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