Chapter 3

Lauren watched the good-looking cowboy hold the door open and tip his hat to a lady coming into Rosie's as she wiped the counter. She hated being so secretive, but she didn't feel comfortable answering the guy's personal questions. She wished she hadn't given everyone in town her real name.

Chase disappeared around the corner of the building and her eyes scanned the parking lot. Her heart jumped to her throat. A red Ford F-150, just like Clint's, pulled up and stopped next to her car. Pressure built in her chest. She couldn't breathe.

Her body began to tremble. What were the odds someone in Saddle Creek had an identical truck?

Surely I'm safe this far away from Michiganright? He couldn't have followed me. How could he have found me already?

Desperately hoping her eyes were just playing tricks on her, she looked out the window again and sucked in a breath. Her heart lurched. Every ounce of air rushed out of her chest.

Clint stood looking into her car.

Fear swept through her, tears filling her eyes. She was happy working at Rosie's. She liked the town and was just getting to know the people in it. She really loved her little upstairs nook. She finally had a place to call her own and was able to stand on her own two feet without Clint's help. Her fear turned to anger. Now she had to move on again, all because of him. She ripped off her apron and threw it on the counter. The bell above the front door jingled. She looked over her shoulder, but didn't stop as she fled through the kitchen and up the backstairs to her room.

Wasting no time, she jammed her few belongings into her backpack. She hurried back downstairs and peeked out the narrow window in the swinging door between the cooking and dining area. Clint was talking to Susan. He'd see her if she went anywhere near her car. Whipping around, she dashed out the backdoor.

A pickup truck with a horse trailer attached was parked nearby. She ran to the truck, stepped on the tire, and threw her other leg over the side. When she tumbled into the bed, she rolled on top of a blue, plastic tarp covering a couple bales of hay. She shoved her meager belongings under the tarp and scrambled beneath it.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears so loudly, she hoped no one else could hear it. She trembled and the straw poked through the thin material of her blouse, but she didn't dare move. Any shift would make a sound and her escape from Clint would be futile.

Lauren held her breath as muffled voices and laughter came closer and then stopped right beside her. One of the voices sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. The slamming of the truck door rocked the entire vehicle. When the engine started and the truck began to move, she didn't care where she was headed or even who was driving. Nothing mattered except finally, she hoped, she would be free of Clint.

Wind tugged at the tarp and exposed her legs. She grabbed the loosened plastic and tried to tuck it under her, gripping the edges. Her fingers cramped from the useless effort. Every rut in the road jarred her. She bounced around like a beach ball and squirmed to get comfortable, but the naked, cold steel truck bed brutally cut into her back.

She sneezed at the dust flying up her nose and the stench of horse manure wafting in through a hole in the tarp. Her heart wouldn't stop racing. She couldn't relax and let her guard down.

Would Susan be upset with her for walking off the job? Lauren felt bad leaving her new friend high and dry but consoled herself with the promise to call Susan and explain the situation to her as soon as possible.

What had Susan told Clint?

This time, Lauren vowed to bury herself so deep the monster would never find her. She regretted the loss of her car, but, without it, he wouldn't have a trail to follow. Exhausted and cold, she curled into a ball, closed her eyes, and listened to the buzzing of the tires on the road.

I'll just get out at the next stop, find another job, and get on with my life.

* * * *

After driving the last hour from Saddle Creek, Chase eagerly crossed the cattle guard under the familiar Jack of Aces sign mounted between two large poles. The sign, waving in the strong breeze, greeted him.

He wondered what he'd missed while he was away. He'd spoken to Amos, his ranch manager, several times during his trip and had been happy to hear the spring foaling was in full swing, but there were always daily mishaps on a ranch.

Whistling at the prospect of being home, he weaved up and down the long dirt drive. Signs of spring were everywhere. Tall grass bent back and forth in the wind, and blooming wildflowers painted the green pastures with spots of color in the fading daylight. As he neared the house, he slowed to admire the garden patch and white birch trees standing tall and erect in the shadow of the majestic Teton Mountain range. He viewed his ancestral log-cabin home nestled among the birch with pride.

The house stood two stories high. Large windows on both sides of the door allowed for lots of light and sun to filter through into the rooms, regardless of the season. The wide front porch, purposely built on the west side, made the perfect place to take in the glorious Wyoming sunset and was furnished with rocking chairs for doing just that. The rockers, tickled by the breeze, moved back and forth, as if the ghost of his ancestors were sitting in them.

Chase past the circular drive in front of the house and backed the trailer into the paddock. He got out of the truck and met Amos at the big double doors of the horse barn.

"Welcome back, boss."

He nodded. "Thanks. Let's get these horses unloaded and settled down for the night. It'll be dark soon, and I still have a lot of work to catch up on." He removed his Stetson and ran his fingers through his hair, then settled it back on top of his head.

His cargo stomped their hoofs and snorted at the new smells greeting them. He walked to the back of the trailer where he unlocked and opened the doors, letting the ramp fall to the ground. He unhooked the two horses from their stalls, one at a time, and led them down the ramp into the paddock, then into the barn.

"These are beauts," Amos said as he took them from there and settled them each in their own stall with fresh hay, oats, and clean water.

"Come on up to the house when you're through for the night!" Chase called back to Amos as he made his way to the cabin. "We can catch up."

Halfway to the house, he remembered his dirty clothes and toiletries he'd packed and thrown into the bed of the truck, and as tired as he was, he had to unpack them because there were things he would need to get ready for bed. He turned around and trudged back to the truck.

The tarp wasn't covering the hay. It was shoved over to one side and tucked in around the edges.

Hmm. That's odd. Must have been the wind.

Curious, he jerked it up with one big pull.