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