Stalking Season. Sandra Robbins

help change that.”

      Clara looked at him, and a sly grin spread across her face. “Are you thinking maybe you could help change that, too?”

      Luke felt his face flush, and he shook his head. “I didn’t say that. The job of this department is to make her feel safe.”

      Clara arched her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”

      He started to respond, but he just frowned and huffed out a breath as he turned and strode down the hallway toward his office. When he walked in, he headed straight to his desk and slumped down in the chair behind it. He sat there in thought for a moment before he straightened and prepared to fill out the reports he had to file. He needed to hurry or he’d be late getting home tonight, and that wouldn’t do if he was going to get to the Wild West show. He wasn’t going there to see Cheyenne ride. He would probably need to return her cell phone if the techs had finished with it.

      At least that’s what he told himself as he began to fill out his reports.

       THREE

      Cheyenne drove the truck up the long driveway that led to the main house on Little Pigeon Ranch. She pulled to a stop in front, turned off the ignition and sat there a few moments letting her gaze drift over the rambling structure that now served as a lodge for guests who wanted to experience the adventure of being on a dude ranch.

      She smiled as her eyes moved over the house and the cabins scattered across the fields nearby. After a few weeks this place was already beginning to feel like home, especially since Patches was with her and they had a place to train. It was hard enough leaving her family ranch behind and all the memories of her parents associated with the place. She didn’t think she could have endured it if she’d had to leave her horse, too.

      When her father’s friend and his son had offered her the opportunity to ride in the Wild West show, she thought that would be the answer to getting on with her life and leaving the past behind. Now she wasn’t so sure. The texts and the phone call this afternoon had signaled that the terror she’d lived through wasn’t over after all.

      Even though she’d had trouble believing her parents’ killer was really dead, she’d been comforted by the fact that he hadn’t contacted her in all these months. Now he was back, and this time it seemed worse than ever.

      His threatening words had played over and over in her mind all the way home. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that it might have been a copycat intent on scaring her, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that. For one thing, he had her music box, and for another the guttural voice had sounded the same.

      If he was alive, as she now believed him to be, he had not just murdered her parents, but probably Clint Shelton, too, in order to evade suspicion. If that was true, then Clint had been an unknowing victim in a vicious game that some crazed person had started two years before.

      All the top steer wrestlers had wanted Clint as their hazer. His death had stunned the rodeo regulars, who found it hard to believe such evil could be buried inside a man who was so respected and well-liked. That’s why it had never made sense to her that he would have been her stalker and killed her parents.

      She sighed and shook her head, then climbed from the truck and started toward the house. She stopped when she heard a shrill voice ring out across the yard.

      “Cheyenne! Wait for me!”

      Cheyenne turned to stare in the direction the voice had come from and spotted Maggie Harwell, Dean and Gwen’s six-year-old daughter, with a tan-and-white collie running alongside her from the direction of the barn. She barely had time to brace herself before the child plowed into her and wrapped her arms around Cheyenne’s waist. She looked down into Maggie’s smiling face and hugged her.

      “That’s quite a welcome, Maggie,” Cheyenne said. “If I’d known you’d be this excited to see me, I would have come back sooner.” The collie jumped up on Cheyenne, and she reached out and patted the dog’s head. “I’m glad to see you, too, Bingo.”

      Maggie’s brown eyes sparkled as she looked up at Cheyenne. “Mama and Daddy said they would take me to see you ride tonight. I’m going to yell and clap louder than anybody else there.”

      Cheyenne laughed and released Maggie. “I’ll listen for you.”

      “I’m sure you’ll be able to hear her above everybody else.”

      Cheyenne looked up to see Dean Harwell coming toward them, a smile on his face. She hadn’t been at the Little Pigeon Ranch long, but she had already begun to feel like everybody here was family. Dean and Gwen had accepted her right off and made her feel like this was her home. She and Maggie had bonded right away, and Cheyenne had grown accustomed to seeing the little girl sitting on the ground outside the corral during her practice sessions with Patches.

      She and Maggie turned to face Dean as he came to a stop beside them. “Thank you for coming tonight,” she said. “It means a lot to me that you’ll be there. You’re the only people I’ve really met since I moved here, and you’re beginning to feel like family.”

      “We feel the same. It’s good to have you here,” he said as he reached down and lifted his daughter so that she sat on his shoulders with her legs dangling over his chest.

      Maggie squealed in delight and took hold of her father’s head as the three of them walked up the steps to the house. Once inside he deposited Maggie back on her feet, bent over and kissed her on the cheek. “Why don’t you go see what Shorty’s cooking up for dinner? Cheyenne will need to eat early so she and Patches can get into town and be ready for the show’s grand opening.”

      “Okay,” Maggie said and started to run toward the kitchen. At the door she stopped and looked back at Cheyenne. “Are you going to do the hippodrome stand tonight?” she asked.

      Cheyenne nodded. “Yes, that’s what I’m going to open with.”

      Maggie directed a somber stare at her father. “That’s the one where Cheyenne stands up on the saddle while Patches runs around the ring.”

      Dean arched his eyebrows, but Cheyenne could see the corners of his mouth trying not to smile. “Really?”

      Maggie nodded and turned back to Cheyenne. “What about the side shoulder stand?”

      “I plan to do that one, too.” She smiled at Maggie. “You’ve been watching me practice so much you know all my tricks.”

      A small frown flitted across her face as if she’d just had a troubling thought. “I don’t like the suicide drag. Don’t do it tonight.”

      Cheyenne glanced at Dean and then at Maggie. She walked over to the child and put her arm around her. “I know that trick scares you, but it’s the highlight of my performance. You don’t have to worry. Patches is well trained, and that’s the secret to doing this trick. If it scares you, though, just cover your eyes, and it’ll be over in minutes. Okay?”

      Maggie smiled a wobbly smile and nodded before she turned and ran toward the kitchen with Bingo right behind her.

      Dean didn’t take his eyes off her as he watched her go, then he turned back to Cheyenne. “She’s grown very attached to you since you’ve been here. Thanks for letting her hang around while you train.”

      Cheyenne waved her hand in dismissal. “No problem. I enjoy having her there. I find myself checking my watch to see when she’s going to get off the school bus so I can see her.” She paused for a moment. “I also enjoy being here with you and Gwen and Shorty and Emmett and all the people who work here. I haven’t felt so comfortable in a long time.”

      “We’re glad to have you. There’s something about living in the Smoky Mountains that makes a person think they’ve come home to the place where they were meant to be.”

      Cheyenne nodded. “I know. I’m