by Kim Redford
She stepped back from the front of the stage. Not what she was supposed to be doing, so she felt Craig turn his focus on her. From the corner of her eye, she caught his puzzled stare. She simply shook her head, trying to reassure him but not knowing how to do it.
“How pretty.” Morning Glory picked up the flowers and held them out to Fern. “You obviously have an admirer.”
Fern shivered with deep cold because she knew that Simon was much more than an admirer. Somehow or other, he represented danger. Craig must have picked up on her dismay because he moved closer to her. At his nearness, she started to come back to her senses. She heard Eden and Jack continue their spiel about Wild West Days as MG held out the flowers.
“Don’t you want them?” Morning Glory asked with eyebrows quirking upward.
“Please.” She finally found her voice. “You keep them.”
“She needs her hands to play.” Craig quickly covered for her, moving even closer.
When she felt his body heat, she breathed a little easier. She wasn’t alone—not here, not now. She was back in Wildcat Bluff with her friends and sister. All was well. She repeated the words over and over for reassurance but also to hold any other thoughts at bay.
“Okay.” Morning Glory gave Fern a puzzled look even as she cradled the roses to her chest, then she turned back toward Eden and Jack.
Fern felt hot then cold at the thought of sharp rose thorns. Most would have been clipped from the long, green stems, but any inadvertently left could puncture vulnerable skin, causing pain.
“Are you okay?” Craig whispered as he slipped his guitar to the side away from her, so he could move even closer. “Do you need to leave?”
She swallowed hard, feeling the dryness of her throat, the tightness in her chest. She wasn’t at all sure she could continue to sing. Simon showing up here in her safe place had definitely spooked her.
“That’s it. We’re getting you out of here,” Craig said. “Something happened and I want to know what, but first, we go.”
She reached for his arm, connected with heat, and felt his muscles bunch as if readying for battle. She tried to smile and reassure him, but her face felt rigid along with the rest of her body. She glanced at MG, who was giving her another concerned look.
Morning Glory turned away, caught Eden’s eye, and gestured that something was amiss and they needed to finish up.
Eden took the mic from Jack, giving him a shrug before she looked out over the audience. “And so, folks, that’s just a reminder of all the fun to be had during Wild West Days. You don’t want to miss the recreation of the shoot-out between the Ruffians and the Hellions for control of Wildcat Bluff, so be sure and join us for that exciting event. Just to remind you, live ammunition certainly won’t be used, but you’ll think you’ve stepped into the middle of the battle with all the noise and smoke.”
“That’s right,” Wildcat Jack said as he leaned close to the mic. “We want you to be sure and join us for that and every other event during Wild West Days.”
“Thank you for your time. And now let us return you to the music of Wildcat Hall so you can dance the night away.” Eden turned off the mic as Nathan and Ken stopped livestreaming.
Morning Glory eased close to Fern. “What happened? Can we do anything?”
“I’m okay,” Fern managed to say.
“No, she’s not.” Craig signaled for the band to start a lively tune. When music once more filled the honky-tonk, he put an arm around Fern’s shoulders. “I’m getting her out of here.”
“What can we do to help?” Eden asked while keeping a smile on her face for the audience.
“Distraction. We’ll help keep the audience busy toe-tapping after y’all leave.” Jack grabbed the mic from Eden. “Use the side door off the back of the stage. We’ll take it from here.”
“You sure?” Craig asked.
“Piece of cake. Now get.” Jack gave them a big grin.
Craig set their guitars on stands, then leaned down to the keyboard player. “She’s sick. I’m taking her home. Jack’s great with a crowd and great with the stories, so he’ll keep things lively in between songs while you handle the music.”
Fern watched the player nod in agreement, feeling like she was acting like an amateur. She wanted to pull herself together, but she wanted more than anything to get off the stage and out of the light. And take Craig with her.
When the stage door shut behind Fern, she took a deep breath of the sweet-scented and warm summer air. She felt a vast sense of relief to be offstage, but she wanted them out of the open and the dark.
“Can you talk about it now?” Craig squeezed her shoulders, tugging her closer to him.
“Please, just take me home.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Your cabin. I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”
Chapter 11
When Craig closed the front door behind her, Fern made sure it was locked tight before she walked into the kitchen. She slid a chair out from under the table, carried it back to the door, and tucked the edge under the knob. Only then did she feel like she could draw a deep breath.
And still she watched the door as she slowly backed away from it, waiting to make sure it didn’t magically pop open and Simon leap inside. Why was she reacting so strongly to him? He’d never been improper. And yet he’d frightened her. When she felt the back of her legs hit the sofa, she sat down abruptly—maybe too abruptly because she started to shake, and once started, it spread like wildfire until her teeth chattered in her head.
“Fern, what the hell?” Craig sounded terrified for her, looking around to find what she saw that so frightened her.
She clasped her arms around her waist, shivering harder and harder, as if everything she’d been holding back for months was coming out all at once in a giant geyser of emotion.
He strode from the room, then quickly returned carrying a quilt. He sat down beside her, pulled her onto his lap, wrapped the soft fabric around her, and enclosed her in a tight embrace.
And still she shivered, despite the warmth and the safety of his arms. All the while, she tried to pull back from the abyss, telling herself that she was overreacting. So a fan followed her to hear her sing in a new venue. It wasn’t unusual. Groupies were nothing new to performers. Still, Simon simply did not belong in a honky-tonk, and she didn’t want him anywhere near Wildcat Hall…or Wildcat Bluff County. And yet the roses were proof of his presence.
“Fern, talk to me. Let me help you.” Craig rocked her back and forth like he would comfort a crying baby.
She shivered harder, feeling vulnerable being so emotionally exposed to him when she wanted to appear in control. Maybe she’d been onstage so much that she no longer knew how to share, or even feel, real emotions…even if she’d wanted to, which she didn’t. Feelings were dangerous. Shared feelings were even more dangerous. And here she was in a full-blown panic attack cradled in Craig’s arms, so what could be more dangerous? That thought brought her up short. Simon Winter—he could very well be more dangerous. And her shivering stopped, as if something deep inside her body knew she couldn’t afford to be vulnerable any longer. She wasn’t the only one at stake here.
“Can you tell me what’s bothering you?” Craig asked in a gentle voice that was meant to soothe.
“The roses.”
He grew still. “Roses? I don’t understand. How could they scare you? And don’t think for a minute I don’t recognize what you’re going through. It happened onstage…after the roses and—”
“The man.”
“What man?”
“He brought the roses.”
“There was so much going on between the band and the announcement that I didn’t notice him.” Craig tugged her closer, as if he could protect her from the unknown man who frightened her.
“Think back. He didn’t fit.”
> “What do you mean?”
“Wrong clothes. Loafers instead of boots. Slick looking.”
“Wait a minute. Silver hair?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I got a glimpse, but I didn’t think anything about it. Just another fan. The Hall was full of them tonight.”
“He’s not just another fan,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“He was on several cruises. He watched me perform. He sent me white roses.”
She felt Craig’s body tense around her.
“He wasn’t on every cruise, but white roses arrived after every performance and let me know I was on his mind.”
“That’s not good.”
“One night…my last night, the roses came with a bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses.”
“What did he want?”
“He included a note inviting me to dinner.”
“Yeah, sure. Dinner.” Craig hugged her hard against him. “Why do people think entertainers are easy, as if we’re there for their complete pleasure? I get it, too.”
“I know you do.”
“How did you handle it?”
“Fortunately, it was my last night, and I declined with a note, explaining that I wasn’t available and would be leaving the cruise line.”
“Did you hear anything else?”
“No. Not until tonight.” She shivered again and snuggled against Craig. “I thought it was all over, just a cruise infatuation.”
“And now?”
“I’m uneasy that he found me and followed me here.”
“I think it’s a very bad thing. It borders on stalking, if it isn’t outright stalker behavior.”
“I don’t know about that, but it was a surprise to see him in my world, as if he’d somehow invaded it.”
“We won’t take any chances. I’ll alert Sheriff Calhoun,” he said.
“Let’s don’t take it that far yet. Simon could’ve—”
“Simon? That sounds like you know him a lot better than you let on. Tell me the truth. Did you do more with him than accept roses and champagne?”
“What!” She leaped out of his lap, struggling with the quilt, and glared down at him. “Are you suggesting I had some sort of flagrant affair with him on the cruises so he followed me here?”
“It’s been known to happen.”
“If that’s what you think, then I’m going back to my cabin. No way am I spending the night here.”
“I’m sorry.” He stood up, holding out his hands to either side. “I got jealous. I’m scared for you. This type of thing can get out of hand and if—”
“I rejected him from the get-go. Besides, there’s just something about him that I don’t trust—will never trust.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, but I had to hear the words from you. The sheriff will ask you the same thing.”
“Oh.” She felt her shoulders slump as she deflated like a tire losing air. “Of course, that’s what folks will think.”
“Not all people.”
“But they’ll wonder. Just like you.”
“I never doubted you, but I had to put it out there.”
She pulled the quilt up over her shoulders and wrapped her arms around her waist. “What if he tells people around here that we’re…”
“Lovers?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think he will?”
“I have no idea.” She paced across the room, then turned back. “As you can imagine, I have no idea who this man is and what he’s capable of doing or saying or sending or anything.”
“Okay. We won’t take chances. And another thing—no matter what he tries to pull, he’s in Wildcat Bluff County now. He’s the outsider, and he’ll be treated as such.”
“Do you mean folks won’t believe him?” she asked.
“We’ve got a pretty good radar for slick operators, so nobody will be taken in by him.”
“Still, we don’t need problems, not with Wild West Days coming up.”
“True. I ought to contact the sheriff right now.”
“Wait. What if we’re wrong? What if Simon was simply passing through, caught my name in the news, and decided to stop by and give me roses again? It’s possible, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But not likely. We’re off the beaten path here.”
“Let’s wait.” She tightened the quilt, feeling a little bit calmer as they talked out the situation. Maybe she really had overreacted at the sight of those silly white roses. Simon didn’t have to be a stalker.
“I’m not inclined to wait. How long?”
“If he doesn’t show again and I receive no more roses, then I’d say he was just passing through and moved on to his final destination someplace else.”
“Okay. But I’d feel better if we contacted Sheriff Calhoun to be on the safe side.”
“I don’t want to look like I’m overreacting, and I particularly don’t want that image at just the time I reappear to put my life back together here,” she said.
“Nobody would think that of you. They’d think you’re smart to be cautious. It helps no one if you take chances.”
“I won’t take a chance.”
“You sure won’t, not if I have anything to say about it.” He walked over to her and held out his arms. “I’m sorry if—”
“It’s okay.” She let him enclose her again, feeling grateful for his heat, his strength, his concern.
“I know you won’t want the restrictions, but please don’t go out alone anymore.”
“I’m back in Wildcat Bluff. I’ll be okay here.”
“Humor me, will you?” He tilted her face up with the tip of one finger, so he could look into her eyes. “If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself…or recover.”
She nodded, smiling slightly. “I truly think I overreacted to a fan, but to tell you the truth, I’d feel better not going out by myself at night.”
“Good. That’s the way we handle it till we’re through Wild West Days.”
“We probably won’t see him again.”
“Maybe not. But one white rose or sight of that guy, and I’m calling Sheriff Calhoun.”
“Okay. I won’t disagree with that plan.”
“Another thing.” He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “You either sleep here, or I sleep in your cabin. There’s no way I’ll leave you alone at night no matter how much security we have in the Park.”
She hesitated, thinking how she’d barely moved into her new cabin and she’d been enjoying it…except for missing Craig.
“No compromise on this one.”
She could see the determination in his eyes. And she knew he was right. Neither of them should take a chance. They’d be stronger together—and she’d sleep much better.
“My cabin or yours?”
“Yours is bigger.”
He smiled, appearing pleased with her choice. “I can take the sofa.”
“Maybe the Settelmeyers could bring in an inflatable or rollaway bed for me to use out here.”
He groaned, shaking his head. “That’s going to be about as comfortable as the sofa. Are you sure we can’t share the bed?”
She didn’t want to give in too easily, but she didn’t want to be separated from Craig, not anymore.
“Can’t we?”
She smiled and traced his full lips with a fingertip. “If you promise not to snore and stay on your side of the bed, I don’t see why we can’t share that nice, new, comfy bed.”
He flicked out his tongue to touch her fingertip. “I see you’re going to make that requirement hard to handle, but I’ll manage it. I won’t do anything to drive you from this cabin.”
“I’m not sure you could right now.”
“Good.” He tucked her head
against his chest and stroked down her back with his large hands.
She could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. He comforted her in so many different ways. She was grateful he was here for her when she truly needed him. She’d like to show him her appreciation and what he meant to her. And there was one perfect way to do it. She rose up on her tiptoes and placed a soft, hot kiss against his mouth. When he stiffened against her, she raised her head and looked at him in surprise.
“Craig?” she said just as the doorbell filled the cabin with a discordant sound. She jerked back, swiveling to look at the door. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No.” He stalked over, pulled aside the chair, and jerked open the door.
“Here you go!” Morning Glory thrust the bouquet of roses toward Fern. “You weren’t feeling well, so I knew these would perk you right up.”
“MG, you’d better come inside.” Craig stepped back to make room for her.
“Poor dear, how are you feeling?” Morning Glory sashayed into the cabin, then held out the roses again.
Fern took one look at them and felt nauseated all over again. She quickly sat down on the sofa, pulling the quilt up around her middle.
Craig grabbed the roses, tossed them outside, and slammed shut the door.
Morning Glory looked from one to the other in shock. “Was it something I said?”
“Something you brought inside.” He gestured toward the sofa. “Why don’t you have a seat? As long as you’re here, you might as well be the first to know.”
“Oh dear.” Morning Glory gave a big sigh, sat down beside Fern, took her hand, and squeezed in sympathy. “Don’t tell me you caught a summer cold. They can be so pesky. I have just the thing to help you down at the store.”
