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“No. I walked out in front of a car without looking, and it hit me. Fortunately, I wasn’t hurt.”
Concern lined his face, and he studied her as if searching for injuries. “Are you sure you’re all right? Gwen is in the kitchen. She can take you to our doctor to get you checked out.”
Cheyenne shook her head. “That’s not necessary. Luke called 911, and the paramedics checked me out. They said I was fine.”
“Luke?”
“Yes, Luke Conrad. He’s the one who hit me.” She bit down on her lip as her face grew warm. “He was in his patrol car.”
He stared at her for a moment. “Luke Conrad is a friend of mine. I hope you won’t blame him.”
“Oh, I don’t. It was all my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.”
Dean studied her for a moment. “I have the feeling that there’s more to the story. What aren’t you telling me?”
Before she realized what she was doing, she began to tell Dean the story of what had happened in the store. When she finished, she flinched at the grim expression on his face. “I’d say this is serious, Cheyenne, and we can’t take it lightly. We need to find this person whether he’s your stalker or somebody trying to scare you.”
“I know that, Dean. But I don’t know where to start. Luke made me promise to call if I needed him.”
“It goes without saying that you can do the same with us. I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’ve suffered enough from this guy. It’s time he was stopped.” He paused a moment. “Maybe you don’t need to ride until we know for sure what’s going on.”
“I can’t drop out right now. My appearance has been advertised, and I don’t want Bill to have to deal with any disgruntled customers who come to see me. Don’t you worry. I’ll stay close to the other performers and keep an eye out for anything out of place.”
Dean frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know, Cheyenne. I think you should postpone your appearance.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” She took a deep breath. “Now I’m going upstairs to get my fancy costume with all the glitter on it, and then I’m going to load Patches in my trailer. Then if Shorty has anything ready, I’ll grab something to eat. I need to leave and get to the arena early so that I can get Patches used to the place before the show starts.”
Before Dean could protest, Gwen walked into the room from the direction of the kitchen. A worried look lined her face as she wiped her hands on a dish towel as she approached. “Cheyenne, I didn’t know you were home.” She walked over, grasped Cheyenne’s arms and stared into her face. “Are you all right? I just heard about your accident.”
Cheyenne’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You did? How did you know about it?”
“Clara, the dispatcher at the sheriff’s office, called and told me. She said Luke Conrad brought you in to make a statement about it.”
Cheyenne frowned and looked from Dean to Gwen. “I don’t understand why she’d call to check on me. I only met her this afternoon.”
Dean chuckled. “Oh, I expect it was more than a friendly check on how you were doing. She was trying to find out how you were so she could broadcast it to the rest of the locals.”
“Broadcast it? You mean she’s like on the radio or TV?”
Gwen laughed. “No, but she’s quicker than any text message you’ve ever seen. She knows everything that’s going on and makes sure everybody else does, too.”
“Oh, I see.”
Gwen crossed her arms and smiled. “In fact she seemed to think that Luke Conrad was quite smitten with you.”
“Well, I don’t know where she got that idea,” Cheyenne said in a huffing voice. “I gave him my statement, he drove me back to my truck and I came home. That’s all there was to it.”
Dean held up his hands in front of him and nodded. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it. But folks around her are friendly, and you’ll find that you’ll like a lot of them, Clara included. And Luke is a great guy. You’ll really like him when you get to know him.”
“Thanks. But I don’t plan on getting to know him. I’m content just to be here with all the people at Little Pigeon.”
“Whatever you say,” Gwen said as she looped her arm through her husband’s and smiled up at him. “Why don’t you come out to the kitchen, Dean, and help Shorty and me get dinner ready? We have quite a few guests eating with us tonight.”
He leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. “Anything for you, darling.”
She laughed, and they turned to walk toward the kitchen. Gwen suddenly stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, I forgot, Cheyenne. You have a letter on the hall table.”
Her body stiffened, and the muscles in her back and shoulders tensed. Who could know where to send her a letter? “Mail? For me?”
Gwen nodded. “Yes. I left it there for you.”
Cheyenne waited until Gwen and Dean were out of sight before she walked to the table in the hallway where a small, sky blue envelope with her name and the address of the ranch on it lay. Her fingers shook as she picked up the letter and stared at it for a moment. Then, she took a deep breath, ran her fingernail under the flap and opened the envelope. It contained a single piece of paper of the same color.
The letter was folded in half, and she hesitated a moment before she unfolded it. For a few seconds all she could do was stare at the image of a white rose at the top of the page. She began to shake as her eyes traveled down to the words written beneath it.
“No, no, no, no,” she whispered over and over as she staggered backward until she felt the wall behind her. She took several deep breaths and looked down at the letter still clutched in her hand.
Hello, darling. I’ll see you soon.
No matter how much she might want to believe he was dead, he wasn’t. He was right here in the mountains, where she’d escaped to in hopes of finding peace, and he wasn’t going to leave her alone until he got what he wanted. This time he wasn’t going to be satisfied with stealing items from her room or following her wherever she went. She had no doubt this time he meant to kill her.
* * *
Luke Conrad glanced at his watch as he hurried toward the building that housed the indoor arena for Bill Johnson’s Smoky Mountain Wild West Show. It had taken him longer to finish his work at the sheriff’s office than he’d thought, and he had rushed to get here on time. Even with traffic as heavy as it was in town tonight, he still had about fifteen minutes before the show started.
He was happy to see the parking lot was filled with cars. Judging from all the shoppers he’d seen today while he was on duty, and the cars and trucks that clogged up the main drag of town, it looked like this Christmas season was going to be a successful one for the local residents.
He hurried as he approached the entrance to the arena and stepped through the door into a wide lobby that housed the ticket windows and some concession stands. The smell of popcorn filled the air and he smiled as he saw a group of children, each armed with a paper cone of pink cotton candy in one hand a box of popcorn in the other. They pushed and shoved each other as they were herded toward the arena by several adults who already looked weary.
Luke stepped up to the first ticket window, smiled at Josie Hatcher—the wife of Brent Hatcher, one of his oldest friends—and handed her the money for his ticket. “Hi, Josie. One, please.”
Josie grinned at him and slid one ticket and a program across the counter. “I keep thinking that one of these days you’re going to surprise me and buy two tickets. There are plenty of girls in town who’d love to come to the show with you. Why don’t you break down and ask one out? You might find you really like it.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Since Brent took you out of commission I haven’t been able to find anybody,” he teased.
She laughed and shook her head. “You’d better watch out. You’re not getting any younger, and one of these days when you least expect it some girl is going to have you lassoed and hog-tied before you know it.”
He arched his eyebrows and tried to look horrified. “I don’t think so. Not if I can help it.”
Josie’s eyes darkened and she tilted her head to one side. “Luke, you know Brent and I are some of your oldest friends. All I’m saying is that not every woman is like Jasmine. You just have to keep looking.”
Luke’s face grew warm, and he scowled. “I’m not interested in looking.” He exhaled and picked up his ticket. “Is Brent riding tonight?”
Josie nodded and sighed as if she knew it was time to change the subject. “Yes, he’s leading the opening parade, and he’s driving in the buckboard shuffle tonight. We have some wranglers who work behind the scenes, so he’ll spend most of his time keeping everybody on time backstage.”
“Well, if you see him, tell him to keep an eye out for Cheyenne Cassidy tonight.”
A worried expression flashed on Josie’s face. “Why? Is something wrong with her?”
“No. It’s her opening night, and I covered a small accident she had this afternoon.”
“Oh, I see,” Josie said as she gave him a quizzical look. “So this is work-related, a deputy sheriff following up on a case.”
His face burned, and he wondered if it had turned red. “Something like that,” he mumbled as he turned away from the ticket counter and caught sight of Dean and Gwen Harwell, and their daughter, at the concession stand. As he walked toward them, the girl working there handed Maggie a big cone of cotton candy.
He eased up behind Maggie and leaned over. “Are you going to share that with me?”
She turned to face him and gave a squeal of pleasure before she threw her arms around his neck. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
He gave her a swift hug and smiled. “Well, I am, and if it’s okay with you, I’d like to sit with you and your folks.”
“Oh, yes.” She glanced up at Dean. “It’s okay if Luke sits with us, isn’t it?”
Dean laughed and reached out to shake Luke’s hand. “Of course he can.”
Luke smiled at Maggie and then glanced at Gwen. “Hi, Gwen. It’s good to see you again.”
A smile pulled at her lips, and she and Dean exchanged a glance before she spoke. “I thought you might be here tonight.”
His forehead wrinkled. “Oh? What made you think that?”
“Well,” she said, “Cheyenne Cassidy is making her debut tonight, and I knew the two of you met this afternoon.”
His face grew warm, and he swallowed. “Yeah, she was involved in a little accident. I took the report.”
“From what I hear,” Dean said, “there was a little more to it than you taking a report.”
Now his face felt hot. “Uh, I guess you could say that. She kinda stepped out in front of my car, and I kinda hit her.”
Dean laughed. “Then why don’t we go get our seats so we can all see Cheyenne make her debut.”
Luke was thankful the conversation had steered to safer ground, and he nodded and followed the Harwell family into the arena. They found seats very quickly several rows up on the bleachers that ran along side the paneled wall of the arena. They’d barely gotten settled when the lights dimmed, and a man’s voice came over the intercom. As he began to speak, the audience quieted, and all eyes were trained on the far end of the arena, where he stood on a small stage. On either side of the stage were large doors that Luke knew would serve as the entrances and exits for the horses.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Bill Johnson’s Smoky Mountain Wild West Christmas Show in our 38,000-square-foot arena right here in the heart of the Smokies. Tonight we celebrate the holidays with this special show that’s designed to thrill you, no matter how old you are. Get ready for a night of horsemanship, spectacle, special effects, music and danger as you witness our cowboys and cowgirls thrill you with their daring rides at top speeds that will leave you shaking your heads in disbelief.”
With that the music swelled, the doors on either side of the stage swung open and a line of horses entered the arena in single file. The sequins on the riders’ costumes sparkled from the spotlights, and each rider held a pole that was stuck in a holder near the stirrup. A white flag covered in white sequins fluttered from each pole as the horses made their way into the arena and circled it at a slow gait. Beside him Maggie pulled on his sleeve and pointed toward the riders.
“There’s Cheyenne!” she cried out as she gestured wildly in her direction.
Luke nodded. “I see her.”
At that moment the music softened, and on cue Luke’s friend Brent Hatcher turned his horse toward the exit, and the others followed. He watched Cheyenne ride her horse out of the arena and then turned his attention to the first act.
Since Luke had seen the show the night before, he settled back in his seat and spent the next thirty minutes more interested in Maggie’s reaction to the various acts taking place on the arena floor. From time to time when Maggie let out whoop of delight, he saw Dean and Gwen exchange smiles. Something in the way they stared at each other made him wistful.
He’d thought he’d that once with Jasmine, but he’d been wrong. In his mind he knew all women weren’t like her, but his heart cautioned him to be careful. He couldn’t be hurt again if he played it safe, and that was what he intended to do. That meant he wouldn’t be testing the waters with any woman. Not now, and maybe not ever.
At that moment Maggie grabbed his arm and cried out in a shrill voice, “It’s time for Cheyenne!”
He jerked his attention back to the announcer, who had stepped to the small stage again. “And now, ladies and gentlemen,” he declared in a booming voice, “get ready for the thrill of a lifetime as the Smoky Mountain Wild West Show presents the debut of our newest trick rider. From Jackson Hole, Wyoming, riding her horse Patches, put your hands together and give a big Smoky Mountain welcome to three-time women’s international trick-riding award winner Cheyenne Cassidy!”
The crowd roared its approval as one of the doors at the end of the arena swung open. Luke gasped as Cheyenne’s horse galloped at top speed into the arena with her standing on the saddle. Her costume glittered as if she was wearing diamonds, and next to him he heard Maggie yell.
“Go! Cheyenne! Go!”
Luke smiled at the excited look on Maggie’s face and he cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a loud cheer as Patches raced around the arena.
Maggie leaned close to him and yelled so he could hear her above the roar of the crowd. “That’s a hippodrome stand. It’s one of my favorite tricks.”
“I like it, too,” he said as his gaze followed Cheyenne, who now had shifted her position. With one hand on Patches’s mane and the other on the saddle horn, she shifted her position until she stood with one leg on the saddle, her arms spread out to the side and her other leg extended backward.
“That’s a crane stand,” Maggie yelled over the noise.
Luke nodded, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Cheyenne as she stood perched like a crane on the saddle while the horse galloped at top speed around the arena. And then just as quickly she transitioned back into the saddle. In the next instant she vaulted from the saddle to the ground, pushed up and landed back in the saddle. The crowd gasped and then broke into thunderous applause.
Suddenly he saw Maggie turn to Gwen and bury her face against her mother. He frowned and glanced at Gwen. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Maggie’s seen Cheyenne practice her performance so many times she knows that she’s getting ready to do the suicide drag, and she doesn’t like to watch that,” Gwen answered.
“And now,” he heard the announcer bellow, “get ready for the death-defying ride of the night as Cheyenne and Patches attempt the dangerous Cossack drag, or known to some as the suicide drag!”
Luke had seen stunt riders perform this trick before, and he watched as Cheyenne stuck her right foot through the drag strap attached to her saddle and lean to the left until her right knee was in line with the saddle horn. Then in one swift motion she twisted her body so that she hung down the left side of the horse, her left leg suspended at a ninety-degree angle from Patches, and her hands dragging along the ground.
He turned to Maggie to assure her that there was nothing to be afraid of when a sudden gasp from the crowd jerked his attention back to the arena. His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open as Cheyenne’s body slipped farther down the side of the horse, shifting her weight even lower. He’d been around horses all his life and knew the sudden change was enough to pull Patches off balance and bring him down to the ground on top of Cheyenne, who was trapped with her foot inside that drag strap.
With a lurch Patches stumbled and struggled to keep his balance. But it was no use. His legs buckled, and he fell to the arena floor, taking Cheyenne with him. Luke jumped up from his seat and pushed between the people on the bleachers in front of him. When he reached the arena fence, he grabbed the top panel and pulled himself over. Then he ran toward the spot where Cheyenne and Patches both lay on the arena floor.
He saw no movement, and as he sprinted toward her, all he could do was pray that she was still alive.
FOUR (#ub2884f78-94dd-54ee-a807-b767ab5eea13)
Cheyenne could hear someone calling her name, but the sound seemed to be coming from far away. She slowly opened her eyes and flinched as the bright lights from overhead almost blinded her. When a figure above her blocked the light, she stared up into the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen. Somehow they seemed familiar.
She frowned and searched her memory and then realization dawned. “Luke,” she whispered as she tried to push into a sitting position. “What happened?”
Luke put his hands on her shoulders and eased her back down to the ground. “Don’t move,” he cautioned. “You’ve had a fall.”
She rubbed her hand over her forehead and closed her eyes. “A fall?”
“Yes,” another voice beside her said. She turned her head to see Trace Johnson on her other side. “Lie still until the paramedics get here. We need to make sure that you’re not injured.”
“Trace, really. I think I can get...”
Before she could move, he gripped her arm. “Please, Cheyenne. It’s our policy that every rider is thoroughly examined when something happens during one of our shows. You need to do as I ask.”
With a sigh she sank back down to the ground. “Okay, if you insist.”
“I do.”
