Cowboy At Arms. Carla Cassidy

up the mug. “It looks like there’s a note, too.” He retrieved a white piece of paper that had been tucked beneath the mug.

      He held the paper out to her. With trembling fingers she took it from him. Her mouth was dry with fear as she opened it. In the light from the blinking neon motel sign and the bright moon overhead, the words written in red marker practically leaped off the page: “YOU BELONG TO ME.”

      Horror clutched her throat, momentarily closing it off so that she could scarcely draw a breath of air. No, her mind screamed. No, please.

      Is it safe? It isn’t. Dear God, it isn’t safe at all.

      “I’ve got to go. I need to pack up and leave town. We need to get out of here.” The words fell from her lips as she continued to stare at Dusty.

      “Whoa.” He set the mug down on the ground next to him and reached out and grabbed her by her shoulders. “Trisha, slow down. I think maybe you’re overreacting. I’m the one who should be worried here. It appears that you have a secret admirer and I have some competition.”

      A secret admirer?

      Was that all that it was?

      She tried to staunch the sheer terror that had momentarily clutched at her very soul. Was she really overreacting? She continued to stare at Dusty and then looked down at the mug on the ground next to her.

      “Trisha, are you all right?” Dusty asked with concern.

      A touch of embarrassment swept over her and she gazed up at him once again. “I’m fine. I...I just don’t like surprises.”

      “This surprise just makes me wish I’d thought to bring you a dozen roses,” he said dryly. He dropped his hands from her shoulders.

      She drew in a deep, steadying breath. “Dusty, I don’t need roses, or flowers in a coffee mug from an unknown person.”

      “Then we’re still on for our fishing date tomorrow?”

      “Of course we’re still on,” she replied. “Would you do me a favor?” She crumpled up the note into a tight ball and shoved it into his hand. “Would you throw this and the mug into the Dumpster for me?”

      “Are you sure? The flowers are kind of pretty.”

      “I’m positive. I don’t want them. Like I said, I don’t like surprises.”

      “Then it would be my pleasure.” He reached down and picked up the mug and then frowned at her with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

      “I’m fine.” All she wanted to do now was get into the motel room.

      “Then I’ll just say good-night, Trisha.”

      She murmured a good-night and then escaped into her room. She held it together as she told Juanita good-night. She even managed to remain somewhat calm as she went into the bathroom and changed into her nightshirt.

      It was only then that the fear returned and once again sizzled inside her. She walked to the window and moved the heavy gold curtain aside just enough that she could peek outside.

      Who on earth had left the note and the flowers for her? Was there somebody out there watching her right now? The parking lot appeared empty of any human presence, but there were so many places to hide.

      The large trash Dumpster at the back of the parking lot now looked like a perfect place for somebody to conceal himself from her view. The line of mature trees and thick bushes appeared equally malevolent in the darkness of the night.

      A secret admirer? Who could it be?

      She let the curtain fall back into place and checked the door, making sure that both the dead bolt and the security chain were in place.

      She finally slid into the king-size bed next to her sleeping son. She stared up at the dark ceiling, her thoughts racing a hundred miles a minute.

      Was it safe? There had never been any notes or flowers before. Were they really just the result of some lonesome cowboy or some man in town who had developed a crush on her? Were they from a harmless secret admirer, as Dusty had suggested?

      Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she tried to still the frantic race of her heart. She didn’t want to pack up her things and run again. She loved living in Bitterroot and tonight with Dusty had been all kinds of wonderful.

      Did she take the chance and stay here in town and see what happened next? Was this nothing to be afraid of, or had the evil from her past finally caught up with her?

       Chapter 3

      Sundays at the Holiday ranch were fairly laid-back. The chores were divided so that half of the men worked one Sunday and the others were off, and the next weekend the men who’d been off worked. The system assured that every other week the men got a full day off without having to do any of the daily chores required to keep the ranch running smoothly.

      Thankfully, it was Dusty’s turn to have the entire day off. He slept later than usual but was still up not long after dawn. His first thought when he awakened was of Trisha and the time he’d shared with her the night before.

      Bright and fun, she’d been everything he’d dreamed about and more. She’d been so easy to talk to and with each minute that had passed he’d only grown more attracted to her.

      As he showered his thoughts continued to be consumed by his date with her. He’d loved the way she’d felt in his arms as they’d danced, and kissing her had been nothing short of amazing.

      But the night had definitely turned a little strange when she’d seen the note and the flowers that had been left for her at the motel door. Her initial reaction had seemed a little bit over-the-top with her saying that she needed to leave town and the crazy fear radiating from her wide blue eyes.

      He wondered what might have happened to her in her past to cause her to react that way. He also wondered who in the hell had left the unexpected gifts for her. Someplace out there was a man trying to make time with her, too. Still, he knew that all he could do was focus on his own relationship with Trisha and see where things went from here.

      He left his room and headed to the dining room, where breakfast would be in progress. As always, Cord Cully, aka Cookie, stood next to a long table where warming buffet servers held scrambled eggs, crispy strips of bacon and hot biscuits with sausage gravy. There was also fresh fruit and hearty oatmeal. Breakfast and dinner were the two big meals of the day, with lunch being lighter.

      “Just the man I wanted to talk to,” Dusty said to Cookie after he’d filled his plate and before he took a seat at one of the long picnic tables with the other men.

      Cookie grunted, his dark eyes glowering as he looked at Dusty. Dusty wasn’t put off by Cookie’s countenance. The man looked as if he wanted to punch something most of the time. “Talk to me about what?”

      “A picnic lunch.” Dusty quickly told the man what he wanted for later that afternoon. When he was finished, Tony Nakni motioned for Dusty to sit beside him.

      Tony was half Choctaw Indian and something of a mystery, although he and Dusty had always shared a good relationship. “How did it go last night?” he asked once Dusty had gotten settled.

      “Really good,” Dusty replied. “In fact, we’re having a picnic down by the pond this afternoon and I’m going to teach her three-year-old son, Cooper, how to fish.”

      Tony raised a dark brow. “You must have made a good impression on her if she’s letting you meet her son already.”

      “I hope I made a good impression, because it appears that I have a little competition.” He told Tony about the note and the flowers.

      Tony shook his head. “I’ve never understood that kind of approach. I mean, if you want a woman, then don’t play silly games, just go after her.”

      Dusty