Chapter 23
LENNON
“Nice of you to make an appearance,” Amos groused. “Thought maybe you’d quit without giving us your two weeks’ notice.”
“I can’t quit a job that I was never hired for in the first place.” I breezed past him, heading straight for the sink to wash my hands. “You don’t even pay me. In fact, I pay you for the privilege of frying bacon and playing cowgirl. I mean, I pay the ranch. And the ranch pays you.”
Amos grunted but didn’t argue. I grinned, drying my hands on the towel. He narrowed his eyes and pointed his metal spatula at me. “You’re on biscuits, city girl.”
“No problem.”
“Where were you yesterday?” Cecily asked. “And what are you wearing?”
“A pipe burst in my cabin’s bathroom.” Feeling guilty about lying, I dodged her gaze and reached for the flour.
Sheriff Sherwood had told me it would be better to say nothing about the postcards unless I absolutely had to.
Stalkers wanted attention, and even negative attention might encourage him to keep going.
Jeremiah had pointed out that everyone would notice I had moved into the lodge, so we agreed on a cover story.
“I had to move my stuff to the lodge. I should have called. I’m sorry.
As for my outfit…” I twirled, showing off the ankle-length skirt. “Do you like it?”
“Um.” Cecily rolled her lips together, clearly struggling to find something nice to say. “It’s pretty,” she ventured. “But it’s not very you.”
I laughed. She wasn’t wrong. From what I found in her drawers, Hannah favored long, flowy skirts and cardigans, whereas I preferred clothes that showed off my figure. “That’s because it’s not mine. It’s Hannah’s.”
“Hannah?” Her brow furrowed.
“Jeremiah’s sister. I’m staying in her room. I meant to do laundry yesterday, but with…um…everything, I never got around to it. Jeremiah lent me some of Hannah’s clothes.” I measured out the sugar and added it to the flour, along with the baking powder and salt.
“That’s awful. About your cabin, I mean.
You’re not thinking of leaving the ranch early, are you?
” Her eyes went wide. “You can’t go yet.
I was hoping you might decide to stay longer.
Lots of guests stay the whole summer.” She wrinkled her nose.
“I promise I’m not just saying that because we’re down a man and need the help. ”
I laughed—but could I? Could I stay longer? Benny was out on bail, and his trial was scheduled for August. His murky business associates were still keeping close tabs on him to make sure he didn’t cut a deal with the feds. Why not stay in Wyoming for the rest of the summer?
“I’m not leaving early. I’m paid up through July, so I might as well get my money’s worth.” Not to mention, I had nowhere else to go. “And the lodge is nice. I don’t mind staying in Hannah’s room until they fix the pipe.” And find my stalker.
“But Jeremiah’s there. That’s gotta be awkward, right? I mean—” She cracked an egg with too much force. Pieces of shell crumbled into the bowl. Frowning, she tried to fish out the slimy white flecks but quickly gave up and emptied the bowl into the trash. “Shoot.”
“Stop yapping and focus on what you’re doing,” Amos said. “We’ve got cowboys to feed.”
Jeremiah had told me to stay put at the lodge and he’d come get me after his morning chores, but I was feeling better about everything after making breakfast with Amos and Cecily.
I couldn’t imagine either of them writing those creepy postcards.
Hell, with the exception of Brian, there wasn’t a single person on this ranch I thought was capable of it—and I doubted Brian had the tolerance for a long game.
The more I thought about it, the safer I felt.
Safe enough to walk to my cabin by myself in broad daylight to grab my earbuds, anyway. I wasn’t stupid enough to go out after dark without Jeremiah or someone I trusted.
I ran up to Hannah’s room to change out of her bohemian prairie chic skirt.
I’d given it a fair try, but she was narrower through the hips than I was, and I had a few inches of height on her, so the skirt hit at an unflattering point two inches above my ankles.
Laundry remained undone, and I wasn’t going to rectify that now—if death by stalker was inevitable, then I wasn’t spending my last few hours on this earth doing my least favorite chore—so I changed into my last clean outfit, a short white dress with blue flowers.
I hummed to myself as I headed down the quarter-mile dirt path that led to the cluster of guest cabins.
Considering yesterday’s upheaval, I was in a remarkably good mood today.
And why shouldn’t I be? The sun was shining, the air was fragrant with wildflowers and ponderosa pine, birds were chirping, and I still wanted Jeremiah’s dick.
Yes, I was in danger. Probably. Maybe my postcard stalker just wanted to talk.
Regardless, that same danger had existed two days ago, too.
The only difference was that I was aware of it now.
I couldn’t actually do anything about it, and what did I do when I had problems I couldn’t do anything about?
I pretended they didn’t exist. It wasn’t lying to myself. It was procrastinating the truth.
So that’s what I did.
I pretended I wasn’t scared of every shadow darkening the sunlit path.
I pretended I didn’t feel someone’s stare on the back of my head.
I pretended that I was looking behind me for a friend, not a murderer.
I did pretty well pretending until my cabin came into view and the partly open door stopped me in my tracks. Someone was in my cabin. Someone was—
A cart loaded with rags, disinfectant sprays, and a bucket pushed across the braided rug, guided by an unseen hand.
Someone was cleaning my room.
Jesus, I was paranoid.
“Hello?” I called, stepping inside.
A woman with a brown ponytail poked her head out of the bathroom. “Oh, hi. Housekeeping.” She came fully into view, mop in hand. “Sorry, I thought you had left.”
“Just the cabin, not the ranch.” I glanced around. She’d already stripped the bed. I opened the drawer of the nightstand and found it empty. “You didn’t happen to find my earbuds, did you?”
“Purple case?” she asked. I nodded, and she reached into her pocket. “Here you go. I was going to turn them in to the lost and found at the lodge.”
I slipped them into my bag. “Thanks. It’s great to see another woman around. I was beginning to think women were going extinct.”
She laughed. “I’ve been around the whole time. Housekeepers tend to be more invisible than cowboys. Maybe it’s their hats.”
“Right.” I smiled. “Do you mind if I take a quick look in the bathroom to make sure I grabbed everything?”
She shrugged as she plugged in the vacuum. “It’s empty but go ahead.” She hit the button, and the vacuum roared to life.
I stepped over the cord on the way to the bathroom. Empty, like she said. I hadn’t noticed anything missing when I’d showered last night, but every time I packed my things, I felt like I was leaving something behind.
“Thanks again!” I shouted over the vacuum. She nodded and waved in return.
The smell knocked into me as I crossed the threshold. Vanilla and citrus. My hand clenched my purse strap so hard my nails bit into my palm. Slowly, I looked down, already knowing what I would find.
A postcard. The photo was of a waterfall this time. I picked it up, my hand shaking.
YOU’RE MAKING A MISTAKE
I scanned the yard and treeline, but saw no sign of anyone. My heart in my throat, I turned slowly to look at the housekeeper. Her? No, it couldn’t be. That was ridiculous. But I couldn’t force the words out to ask.
It took her a moment to feel my eyes on her, but then she did a double take and turned off the vacuum. Her brow furrowed. “Are you all right?”
She wasn’t my stalker. She was the housekeeper. I was being silly.
“I…” I cleared my throat. “Did you see anyone just now?”
“Other than you? No. Is everything okay?”
I forced a tight-lipped smile. “Everything is fine.”
I shoved the postcard into my bag and jogged down the porch steps.
Everything is fine. Everything is fine.
I pretended I couldn’t smell it. I pretended it wasn’t there in my bag, a companion to every step I took.
Maybe I felt someone’s furious gaze following me down the path.
But I pretended I didn’t.
“Finally. A horse.” I nabbed an apple from the basket and held it out on my flat palm to the only horse cooped up in the stables on this gorgeous summer day.
Alibi, according to her nameplate on the stall door.
She bobbed her head as she lipped it up.
“What do you say, girl? You want to be my getaway ride? We can live in the mountains and everything will be fine.”
“You’re not going to get very far on a lame horse,” Jeremiah’s amused voice said from behind me. “Alibi has a bruised frog.”
“A bruised what?” I leaned back to look her over. Admittedly, I was no horse expert, but she seemed okay.
“The frog is part of her hoof. Probably stepped wrong on a stone last night. She’ll be all right in a day or two.
” He set aside his pitchfork and rubbed her nose.
“You want to tell me what you’re doing here when I told you to wait for me at the lodge?
” His voice was as unruffled as ever, but a muscle popped in his jaw.
Probably not the time to tell him I’d gotten another postcard.
That suited me just fine since I was deep in denial, anyway.
I knew I couldn’t stay here. Sooner or later, I was going to have to figure my shit out.
Where was I going to live? What was I going to do for money?
How was I going to feel safe ever again?
All questions for another day. Right now, I only had one question I wanted an answer to.
“Do you keep your promises, Jeremiah?” I leaned back against the wall, letting him get a good look at me.