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Arden took one more look at herself in the mirror—tanned skin, hair in such need of a good cut that she’d pulled it into a ponytail and thinner facial features than were normal. It was all fixable, with time. The inside was more damaged, but hopefully tonight was the first step toward healing that, as well.
She pasted on a smile for her mom. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
As her mom drove toward town, Arden noticed her quick glances in the rearview mirror to where Arden sat in the backseat. To try to keep her mom from her obvious worry, Arden pulled out her phone and pretended to read on it.
Her mind wasn’t on the phone’s image of her hiking through the Rwenzori Mountains. Uganda had some truly beautiful places, some wonderful people, but just thinking of it now made shivers run across her skin, her insides twist into tighter and tighter knots. How many times had she relived the moment she’d gone from reporter to captive?
She scanned through the photos on the phone and replaced the Rwenzori picture with one of her parents wearing Santa hats last Christmas. It always made her smile when she looked at it. Granted the phone it had originally been on was who knew where, but she’d learned several lost phones ago to keep her photos backed up in the cloud.
The sound of another vehicle passing drew her attention, and she looked up to see they were coming into Blue Falls. As her mom made the turn toward the fairgrounds, the anxiety that had made a home for itself inside Arden kicked up several notches.
It’ll be okay. It’s safe here. You’ll be back home before you know it. This is a necessary step.
By the time her mom parked in the field adjacent to the grandstands, Arden had almost convinced herself that her mental pep talk was true. Even if it wasn’t, she was here now and she couldn’t back out.
The walk from the car to the arena was filled with a blur of faces and well wishes and what was meant to be reassuring hugs and caring touches. It took all of Arden’s strength not to jerk away at each one, so that by the time they reached where the mayor was standing she was already wiped out. Somehow she found the strength to accompany the mayor to the flatbed truck inside the arena where a country western band was packing up their gear after evidently entertaining the crowd.
As Arden climbed the steps to the top of the trailer, she glanced toward the grandstands and found her parents making their way to seats among the crowd. Maybe if she focused on them during this whole show, she’d make it through. But even as she had that thought, she considered that doing so might actually be the worst thing. She couldn’t risk them seeing how much her current position was shredding her determination to see it through. How the panic was clawing its way up out of her like a zombie from the grave.
Her legs shook as the mayor made her way to the microphone and began to speak. It took an incredible amount of focus on Arden’s part to fix her mind on the woman’s words, to make them sound like something other than an indistinct voice at the bottom of a deep pit.
“We’re all so happy to have Arden Wilkes back home in Blue Falls, safe and sound.”
A round of applause from the people staring at Arden caused her to flinch. There were even a few American flags waving out in the midst of the crowd. She scrunched her forehead in confusion, but before she could think about it too much she realized the mayor was looking at her. That she’d said something to which Arden needed to give a response. As if she was rewinding the past few seconds in her mind, Arden realized what the mayor had said.
Arden approached the microphone on increasingly shaky legs. “Thank you, Madam Mayor. I appreciate all the prayers for my safe return and the support that’s been given to my parents during the past weeks.”
She certainly hoped that’s all that was expected of her because she didn’t think she was going to be able to stay here being stared at like a museum exhibit for much longer. As if the mayor could see her distress, she shook Arden’s hand, gave her a gift bag containing welcome-home gifts from local merchants and nodded toward the stairs descending from the trailer.
Arden made for the stairs as quickly as her waning energy would take her. But even after she left the arena, she wasn’t free. What seemed like a gauntlet of well-wishers closed around her. She did her best to smile and thank them all. After all, she’d been witness to such scenes before. Child soldiers returned to their families. Mudslide survivors finding family members alive. One man who’d been erroneously held in a Chinese prison finally released. She had covered their stories, even talked to the people in question, but she’d never truly understood the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed when they were returned to normality.
She saw her mom stand, and Arden knew she couldn’t possibly face her mother right now. Her mom would take one look and know that Arden hadn’t been telling the truth when she’d claimed she was fine. She would coddle Arden to the point of driving Arden to insanity. She loved her mother dearly, but all Arden wanted was for everyone to go back to behaving normally around her so she could do the same. So she could somehow find a way to forget what had happened to her, what she’d been unable to prevent from happening to others.
“Excuse me,” she said as she found an opening in the crowd. As if her need to get away had been blasted over the speaker system, people ceased trying to stop her. There was no destination in mind, just some space to breathe—ironic since recently open space had a habit of robbing her of her ability to breathe.
Somehow she ended up in the dimly lit area next to the concession stand. She counted it a small miracle that no one seemed to notice her there. Evidently the people in line were too focused on placing orders for hot dogs, nachos or food on a stick to pay her any attention. But she knew it wouldn’t last.
As she thought that, someone stepped around the corner of the building and extended something toward her. It took her a held-breath moment to realize it was Neil Hartley and what he had on offer was a cold bottle of beer.
“You looked as if you could use one of these,” he said.
She latched on to the bottle and brought it to her lips, downing half the contents before stopping. When she finally lowered it to breathe, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He didn’t stare at her, which allowed her to relax some. He was tall and broad enough that he blocked her from sight of a good portion of the crowd in front of the concession stand. “Guess your homecoming has been a bit overwhelming.”
“You could say that.”
Most people would have asked questions or done the teary hug followed by an “I’m so sorry” or “Praise the Lord you’re home safe” thing, necessitating a response from her, but Neil did neither. He just stood there gazing out across the field behind the grandstands, leisurely enjoying his beer. It felt as if he was appointing himself a quiet and casual barrier between her and the world, and she felt more of her well of panic subside. There was no way he could, but it almost seemed as if he understood how she felt and what she needed.
In the same moment she saw another woman walking toward them with a sympathetic look on her face, Neil nodded in the direction of the stock pens at the end of the arena. He gently touched her elbow and said, “Let’s get away from this crowd. Can’t hear myself think and it smells like a fryer vat back here.”
She didn’t question him, just went along and acted as if she hadn’t seen the other woman so it didn’t seem as if she was being rude. Some people might have the best of intentions but still not understand that she was on emotional overload at the moment and needed to not have to be “on” and ready with a plethora of thank-yous.
The crowd seemed to part for Neil as he guided them away from the grandstand toward where the pens contained the bulls that would be ridden in the last event of the evening.
“They look so much bigger up close,” she said. “I can’t believe people climb on them voluntarily.”
Neil chuckled a little, a nice sound that tempted her to smile. “Everybody’s got something about themselves that others think is crazy.”
Was he thinking about how she’d tracked down human traffickers and ended up getting herself kidnapped, necessitating a rescue by the US military? Sure, she hadn’t been the only American being held, but it had still been equal parts relief and embarrassment when the camo-clad troops had burst into the kidnappers’ camp. At the memory of the resulting firefight in which she’d feared for her life, she grew dizzy and wrapped her hands around one of the rungs on the metal fence in front of her.
Neil had to have seen her reaction and yet he didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned his forearms against the top of the fence beside her, then pointed toward the bulls in the enclosure.
“See that black bull on the opposite side?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“He’s the meanest one here. If whoever draws him stays on for eight seconds, I predict that guy will win the event.”
She glanced at Neil, was struck by how handsome his profile was. The last time she’d seen him before her return home, he’d probably been about twenty. It must have been the night she and Sloane graduated. She had a vague memory of the entire Hartley clan being part of the crowd that crammed into the high school gym for the commencement.
“Did you ride?” she asked, deciding to go with the avenue of conversation he’d offered.
“Bulls? Heck no, I like my neck unbroken.”
She laughed a little at that, and the sound of her own laughter stunned her. When was the last time she’d been able to really laugh? She honestly couldn’t remember.
“Any rodeo events?”
He shook his head. “Never got into it. Too busy working on the ranch.”
Inside the arena, the next barrel racer sped toward the first of the three barrels and guided her horse in a tight turn around it.
“You ever try it?” Neil asked.
Arden shook her head. “Didn’t grow up on a ranch. I did ride an elephant once, though.”
What had made her reveal that? They’d been doing fine talking about something that had nothing to do with her job—former job—and she had to go and steer the conversation that way.
Neil smiled, and her breath caught. She’d known he was good-looking. Even she wasn’t so caught up in her own concerns to be able to overlook that obvious fact. But it was remarkable how much a simple smile could magnify what she’d already seen.
“An elephant, huh?” The way he said it indicated he’d believe it when he saw it.
“Yes, in India.” She pulled out her phone and scrolled to a photo of her atop a large Indian elephant, then extended the phone to him. “She was very sweet.”
He took the phone and looked at the screen. “Well, what do you know? You did ride an elephant.”
She accepted the phone when he gave it back. “I was there covering efforts to prevent poaching.”
“Sloane says you’ve been some interesting places.”
The conversation was veering deeper into an area she didn’t want to visit, but there was something so calm and inviting about Neil that she found herself telling him about some of her travels—primitive villages in the Amazon, the outer reaches of Siberia, corners of China most Americans had never heard of, which had made her realize just how massive was the population of that country.
“What’s your favorite place you’ve ever been?”
“I don’t really have one. Every place was fascinating in some way.” She glanced at the arena when a cheer went up from the crowd.
“That’s a really good time,” Neil said of the barrel racer’s 14.0.
They watched in companionable silence as the last two barrel racers took their turns. Arden didn’t know whether it was because of where they were standing or the fact that Neil stood between her and the crowd of spectators, but no one approached her. It was the first time since she’d left the house that she could breathe easily.
When a truck rolled into the arena to load up the barrels, she turned slightly toward Neil. “What about you? Got a favorite place you’ve been?”
He glanced toward her, and she was struck by how much she liked his eyes. It wasn’t that they were some bright color, rather a soft brown, but there was something in them, a kindness, a goodness that attracted her.
“The ranch,” he said simply.
“Your family’s ranch?”
He nodded. “I haven’t traveled a lot. Don’t have the time, really. Guess I don’t have the bug either.”
Arden couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t wanted to travel the world. Blue Falls was a nice place to grow up, but it had seemed so small and limiting. Even now, after her far-flung travels had gotten her nearly sold into slavery or maybe killed, there was a little part of her that wanted to jet off to some new locale. But that wasn’t possible anymore.
The faces of her kidnappers formed in her mind. She hated them with every fiber of her being. Hated that they’d made her fearful. Hated that they’d caused her to nearly lose her father. And hated them for robbing her of the very thing that had made her who she was. As she stood here at a hometown rodeo next to Neil, she realized she had no idea who she was anymore and was scared she might never find out.
Chapter Four (#ulink_db1cf93d-8b46-5fbf-ae9b-e82cd7a40d90)
Neil did his best not to stare at Arden, which proved to be harder than it should be. Even with signs of her ordeal evident—dark circles under her eyes, being too thin, the way she seemed to always be expecting an attack from every angle—she was a beautiful woman. Long, dark hair. Large, dark brown eyes. A figure that was just the right amount of curvy despite the malnourishment she’d suffered. But he sensed how she didn’t like to be stared at, the object of so much curiosity.
He didn’t blame her one bit and had decided to shield her from it without realizing he’d made the decision. He supposed it was that part of him that remembered what it was like to have those stares directed at him, to suddenly be thrust into a world where there were way more questions than answers, more fear and uncertainty than he could adequately process.
Not wanting to focus on his past, he fixed his attention on the bareback riding in the arena.
“How’s your family doing?” she asked.
“Good.” He nodded toward the grandstands. “Up there somewhere.”
He caught the expression Arden wore, as if she was at a loss how to keep the conversation going. He experienced a pang for her. The field she’d gone into told him that not knowing what to say shouldn’t be a problem for her.
“Mom actually mentioned one of your articles the other day, one you wrote for the high school paper about how the girls were unfairly targeted by the school’s dress code.”
Arden’s forehead wrinkled for a moment before relaxing. “I haven’t thought about that in forever. I can’t believe she remembers that.”
“I’d like to say it was because the article was so good, but it was just as likely because Sloane was really fired up about that issue.”
Arden smiled and appeared to relax. “I remember that, how righteously indignant she was. I’m pretty sure she had some quotes I couldn’t put in the article.”
He barked out a laugh. “Yep, that sounds like her.”
“The school really was perpetuating a double standard. I never once saw one of the guys get reprimanded. You know, that still ticks me off now that I think about it.”
“Mom agreed with you. For a while after that she was actually on the committee of parents and teachers to make sure the rules were applied fairly and without going overboard.”
“Well, glad to know some good came out of the uproar. I don’t think the administration liked me very much my senior year.”
Neil shrugged. “Sometimes you have to poke the bear to make it move.”
“Hmm, I like it. You should make T-shirts with that saying on them.”
“Maybe I will. Always looking for new ways to keep the ranch afloat.”
Arden opened her mouth a little, as if she was about to ask a question, but just then one of the bulls in the pen got rowdy and kicked the fencing. Arden yelped and jumped back.
He reached over to steady her with a nonthreatening hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He’s not getting out of there.”
Even in the dimmer lighting behind the pens, Neil could see that the color had drained out of Arden’s face. It looked similar to how it had in the convenience store that first day she’d been home. He did his best not to show his sudden anger at the people who’d done this to her. He hoped the soldiers who’d rescued her had left the kidnappers where they’d fallen. Let them be carrion for whatever roamed the wilds of Uganda.
Neil felt a tremor run through Arden’s body, and he had the strong urge to pull her into his arms. But instead of making her feel protected, he suspected that action would freak her out even more. With more reluctance than he should feel, he dropped his hand away from her and took a step back. He turned his attention to the team roping competitors, allowing Arden time to pull herself together without him watching.
When she stepped up next to him, she rested her forearms along the top of the fence as he did. Good, she was tough under the layers of fear that had accompanied her home from Africa.
They stood there, side by side, during the rest of the rodeo events, stepping away from the fence only when it was time for the bulls to be moved into position for the bull riding event at the end. He kept the conversation light, mainly talking about what was taking place in the arena or catching up on what some of the people she and Sloane had gone to school with were doing now. He wondered if their lives seemed boring compared to hers.
A couple of times he spotted people moving in their direction and ran interference with a simple shake of his head that did the trick without Arden noticing.
When they fell into silence, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from drifting back in time to when he was the one on the receiving end of all the stares. He’d only been five at the time, but there were some images and feelings that were burned into his memory as if they’d been put there with a cattle brand. He had a feeling that Arden was feeling something similar.
Part of him wanted to walk away and shove all those long-ago memories into the dark corner of his brain where he tried to keep them. Being near Arden, with her trauma so recent it clung to her like the scent of smoke when you’d been near a fire, had seemingly opened a door to those memories, letting them come to the surface for air.
But his parents—his adoptive parents—had raised him and his adopted siblings to be good, decent, caring people. And right now, Arden was the one in need of a protective barrier and someone she could talk to about anything but her ordeal. He barely knew her, but there was no denying the connection he’d felt from the moment he’d spotted her in front of Franny Stokes, looking as panicked as an insect caught in a spider’s web.
After the last of the bull riders got tossed into the dirt, the crowd started to head for the cars. Arden didn’t make a move to leave, so he stayed by her side.
“I better go find my parents,” she said finally. “It was nice talking to you.”
“You, too.” Instead of parting, however, he fell into step beside her as they headed toward the grandstands.
The look of gratitude on Ken and Molly Wilkes’s faces told Neil that he’d done the right thing sticking by Arden throughout the evening.
“Neil, nice to see you again,” Molly said.
“You, too, ma’am.” He directed his attention to Ken. “How you doing, sir?”
“On the mend.” He wrapped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “This one here is the best medicine this old heart could have asked for.”
Neil saw a pained look pass over Arden’s eyes before she managed to hide it. He couldn’t imagine how she must have felt when she’d been rescued only to find out her dad had suffered a heart attack.
