by Kim Redford
Elsie pointed toward the band, then stepped back and let them take over with an upbeat rendition of “San Antonio Rose.”
Craig listened while keeping an eye on Fern to get her reaction. The band was getting better every time he heard them. He’d be proud to have them play in Wildcat Bluff during Wild West Days.
When the Red River Wranglers finished that number and launched into another, Fern leaned over to Craig, smiling and nodding as she kept rhythm with her fingertips on the arm of her chair.
He leaned toward her. “You like?”
“Let’s book them. And not just for Wild West Days.”
“Really?”
“They’re just what I want to nurture at the Hall.”
“Let’s do it.”
After a few more numbers, Elsie took the mic and looked out over the crowd until her gaze came to rest on Fern and Craig. She nodded at them, smiling.
“Folks,” Elsie said. “We’ve got a special treat for you at this Summer Music of Sure-Shot. We have with us none other than Fern Bryant and Craig Thorne from Wildcat Hall. Fern is just back from entertaining on luxury cruises on the high seas. And Craig is our hometown boy made good. Please give them a warm welcome and persuade them to take the stage just for us this lovely afternoon.”
Fern turned to Craig, eyes wide in surprise.
He just shrugged and stood up, knowing she would follow him. They couldn’t turn down such a request or a chance to promote Wild West Days. Besides, he owed the folks of this town for their continual support all his life.
When he held out his hand, Fern took it and stood up beside him. Applause came quick and loud, following them up to the gazebo.
“Thank you so much,” Elsie said with a big grin. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you performing for us.”
The guitar player slipped the strap of his guitar over his head and held his instrument out to Craig. “I’m Renegade. At least that’s what they call me. I’d be honored if you’d use my guitar.”
“Thanks.” As Craig shifted the strap across his own shoulders, he leaned down toward the boy. “You’ve got a fine band here. We want you to play at Wildcat Hall when you turn eighteen.”
“We’re already there…just this summer.” Renegade grinned, excitement shimmering in his widened eyes.
“Good. We’ll talk later.” Craig turned back toward the audience.
Fern plucked the mic from its stand, then glanced at Craig and whispered, “You Are My Sunshine.” He nodded, knowing she’d picked the perfect song for a family outing on a Sunday afternoon in the park.
And then she was singing while he was harmonizing and accompanying them on the borrowed guitar. Soon they were deep into their fantasy world, where nothing existed except the two of them and their music carrying everyone with them into happiness.
After a bit, Fern beckoned for the audience to sing along. “Hey, folks. You know this song. Please join us.”
He quickly glanced back at Elsie and the band. “Step right on up here and let’s see what we can really do with this number.”
“An honor,” Renegade said as he moved up beside Craig, grinning all the while as he leaned toward the mic while Elsie and the other band members joined them.
Craig felt the thrill of a perfect performance as the uplifted voices of the audience joined their song to fill the park with joyful sound on a sunshiny day in August.
Chapter 18
After sharing three songs with Elsie, the Red River Wranglers, and the audience, Fern felt a deep sense of satisfaction. This was why she’d come home. She could nurture not only musicians but communities as well. Sometimes she just thought too small. What if they brought the original Sure-Shot honky-tonk back to life? Bert and Bert Two had already revived the drive-in. The Sinclair filling station had been repurposed to meet contemporary needs. Obviously, the area was growing, instead of shrinking like so many places. And it was Craig’s hometown.
She grew excited at the idea. As soon as they left the stage, she’d ask him if he knew whether or not the original dance hall structure still stood intact or if it’d burned or been bulldozed years ago. She thought they might be able to manage Wildcat Hall as well as Sure-Shot Hall, sharing bands, food, drink, promotion, resources, so there was less overall work. Maybe the Settelmeyers would even agree to get involved, but then again, maybe not, since they were pretty devoted to the Hall.
Yet she didn’t need to nail down facts and figures right now. She couldn’t, anyway, because she didn’t have enough information to even make a guess as to the feasibility of another honky-tonk in the area. Still, it revved up her energy and gave her a burst of creative direction. Besides, wouldn’t it simply be fun?
With a smile, she glanced over at Craig just as he completed a complicated riff on the borrowed guitar…and saw his face freeze in a guarded expression. He flicked his gaze toward her before he quickly handed the guitar back to Renegade, then focused forward again.
Something about Craig’s reaction struck deep in her heart. She didn’t want to look, but she slowly swiveled her gaze back to the front. And she froze, too. Simon was there, as if appearing out of nowhere.
He gently, carefully laid a bundle of green-wrapped, long-stemmed white roses on the floor of the gazebo, at her feet. He looked as well put together as ever, so he’d been sleeping just fine, wherever he’d been staying. And now he was back. He gave her a hint of a smile, then turned and walked to the side of the gazebo and disappeared from view.
She felt her breath catch in her throat and a chill race up her spine. How had he even known where she was if he hadn’t been following her? And the roses? No one knew ahead of time that she’d be on the stage. Had he been stalking her all this time, roses at the ready?
When Craig grasped her hand, she squeezed in acknowledgment that everything they’d hoped to be true had just been proven false.
He quickly returned the guitar to Renegade, with a nod for the band to take over again. As music filled the air, he tugged Fern to the back of the gazebo.
“How lovely!” Elsie cried out, snatching up the roses and carrying them to Fern.
She shrank back, not wanting to touch the flowers. “Please, you keep them. They’ll look beautiful in the Bluebonnet Café.”
“Really?” Elsie put a hand over her heart, grinning big. “Are you sure? I mean, I’d love to have them, but they’re such an expensive gift and—”
“Trust me,” Fern said. “I want you and the residents of Sure-Shot to enjoy them.”
“I understand.” Elsie gave her a conspiratorial nod with a toss of her head that sent her ponytail swishing from side to side. “You’ve received so many flowers from admirers that you’re willing to share. You’re so generous.”
“If you’re happy with the roses, then I’m happy for you.” Fern held on to Craig’s hand, wanting to disappear from sight. “By the way, have you seen the man who left those roses around here before today?”
Elsie gave a quick shake of her head. “No. And I’d have remembered a good-looking man like him. Besides, he’d stand out among our cowboys. Do you know him?”
“Not really.” She desperately wanted to get off stage and out of sight in case Simon lurked somewhere nearby, watching and waiting to get her reaction to the roses or setting her up to get something from her that she couldn’t yet fathom.
“Elsie, thanks for inviting us to perform today.” Craig edged toward the stairs, taking Fern with him.
“Thank you both. It’s been our pleasure, believe you me.” Elsie gave a huge smile to them both.
“You’ll still be doing some catering at Wild West Days, won’t you?” Craig asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“We’ll be in touch,” he said.
“Just let me know what you need, when you need it.”
“We will. And thank you,” Fern
said.
“You’re welcome here anytime.” Elsie beamed at them. “Now don’t be a stranger.”
Craig quickly led Fern away from the gazebo and toward his dark blue pickup with bright chrome trim. She kept her gaze straight ahead, not about to encounter Simon’s watchful eyes if he was out there just waiting for her to notice him. She didn’t feel safe again until she was in the front seat of Craig’s pickup and he was beside her.
“Guess that tells us what we needed to know.” He glanced over at her.
“But we didn’t want to know.”
“How are you?”
“I’m okay.” She took several deep breaths. “Really. It was just such a surprise, particularly in Sure-Shot.”
“I hate to say it, but it looks like you’ve got a serious stalker.” He checked his side mirror before he looked out all the windows.
“Is he there?”
“Don’t know.” He glanced back at her. “We don’t know what he drives.”
“A fancy sedan?”
“Not a chance. He won’t want to stand out in pickup country.”
“Where’s he getting the roses?”
“If he’s smart, and I figure he is or he’s done this before, he won’t leave a trail, so he’s shopping and living out of town. He could even be ordering the roses online with overnight delivery, so he keeps fresh ones on hand.”
“I hate to think any of that, but you’re right.” She felt the chill go deeper. “Do you think I’m not the first woman he’s stalked?”
“No way to know, but he does appear to have a system in place.”
“I don’t want to believe others were subjected to his attentions. He could be making it up as he goes along.”
“Right,” Craig replied. “We’ll contact the sheriff. He might be able to come up with some answers.”
“Okay.”
He turned to face her and clasped her hand. “You’re not in this alone. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“There’s still my first option.”
“No way in hell.” He squeezed her fingers, let go, and put his hand on the leather-wrapped steering wheel. “And no way am I taking you to the drive-in. It’s too easy for him to follow us there, and we’d be too exposed in that environment. Plus, we might endanger others.”
She exhaled on a sharp breath in irritation, regretting this sudden curtailment of her life. “Danger? What would he use, roses?”
Craig threw her a stern look, then started the engine. “We don’t know how far he’s willing to take his obsession.”
She put a hand over her heart, as if already struck by some unknown force. “Violence? You think he could get—”
“We’re going to the ranch. It’s the safest place I can think to take you right now.”
She didn’t say anything as he turned the pickup and head back the way they’d come. She was stuck on the idea that Simon might want to hurt her. She just couldn’t wrap her head around that fact, and yet there were stories out there—real-life stories—of obsessions gone bad. She had to take the situation even more seriously than when she’d believed he’d left the county.
Craig gunned the engine, and Sure-Shot went by in a flash, startling folks and horses in front of the Bluebonnet Café.
“We can’t let him frighten us.” She tried to sound calmer and more collected than she felt.
“I’m not in the least frightened,” Craig said through gritted teeth. “I’m furious some guy thinks he can come into Wildcat Bluff County and stalk you…or any other woman here, either.”
“But you just said you thought he was dangerous.”
“No. I didn’t want to chance putting others in a potentially dangerous situation.”
“I don’t understand the difference.”
“Fern, you ought to know by now, even if you are from the city, that every man and most women in this county are armed and ready for trouble.”
“You mean like Hedy, MG, Ruby—”
“Bert, Bert Two. You could name names all day. There’s no point. Out here in the country, danger is around us all the time. Poisonous snakes. Coyote packs. Poachers. Cattle rustlers. We’d be fools if we didn’t know how to protect ourselves and what belongs to us.”
“I guess 911 isn’t a lot of help out here.”
“Sheriff Calhoun is a good man, but it’s a big county. And seconds can make the difference in life and death.”
“I don’t want to even consider this might come to anything that serious.”
“Me either…but we’re going to err on the side of caution. Okay?” He glanced over at her for emphasis before he turned onto Highway 82 going west toward Gainesville.
“Yes, of course.”
“Good.”
She didn’t say anymore while he drove and she furiously tried to think of ways to get out of the situation. How had her life suddenly spiraled out of control? No, she wouldn’t think that way. She couldn’t accept that fate. She would accept that she had a problem, but it wouldn’t stop her from going forward with her life. She’d take precautions now. Others around her would do the same thing. And they’d all be fine.
For now, her main concern needed to be Wild West Days. They just had to get through it without any overt incidents, particularly dangerous ones. Roses she could handle. She’d just throw them away. If he lurked at venues, she could handle that, too. She’d just ignore him. In time, he was bound to realize that she’d never return his interest, so he’d give up and go away. She only hoped it was sooner than later.
“Place is probably a mess.” Craig broke into her thoughts. “I haven’t been there much lately.”
She glanced up in time to see him turn off the highway and drive under an arched and polished cedar sign that read THORNE HORSE RANCH. As he headed up the winding gravel road, he passed horses in black, gray, and roan colors that grazed in several pastures with ponds sparkling blue in the late-afternoon sunlight. They raised their heads and looked up, swishing long tails as they watched the pickup pass them by.
“Hope you like the place. Folks left the running of it to me after they moved down to South Padre Island for sun and surf.”
“How come you didn’t bring me here before?”
He drummed fingertips on the steering wheel. “You were a city girl. I didn’t think you’d much like it.”
“You were trying to impress me by not showing me your ranch?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t like horses or critters?”
“I didn’t want to take a chance. And by the time I figured out you actually liked country living, you were up and gone.”
“You do realize that’s pretty convoluted thinking, don’t you?”
“Could we set it down to the fact that I took one look at you and my brains scrambled?”
She chuckled, feeling decidedly better now that they were off the main highway and onto private property with lots of protective fences. And then, when she was with Craig, she always felt better.
“Listen, we’ll be alone up at the house and grounds, surrounded by a stout fence. The foreman and ranch hands are in their own compound farther out on the ranch, near the barns and pastures.”
“Okay.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“I’m with you, so I’m okay with whatever I get.”
He chuckled, glanced over at her, and shook his head. “That’s pretty compliant for you.”
She laughed, too. “I know, but at the moment, I just want to be someplace I feel perfectly safe, so I can relax.”
He grinned, eyes lighting up with an inner fire. “I might have a few ideas on relaxation techniques.”
“Only a few?”
“Push comes to shove, I bet I could come up with as many as you like.”
“I might like a lot.”
“You’ve got it.”
“Thanks.” She reached over and squeezed his forearm. “I needed to laugh a bit.”
“He’s not going to get us down, and he’s not going to make us cower in a corner.”
“Right.”
“We just need to regroup now that we know he’s still in the area.”
“And come up with an action plan of our own.”
“Yeah.”
He drove up a rise where a sturdy chain-link fence enclosed a two-story house with a peaked roof, as well as a white gazebo adorned with lacy gingerbread and a swimming pool with sparkling blue water. He hit a button on the remote control on the sun visor above his head, and the double gates slowly swung open. He drove inside, pressed the remote again, and the gates closed behind them.
She looked ahead at a charming turn-of-the-twentieth-century farmhouse that was painted bright white with Victorian gingerbread gracing the eaves and a wide wraparound porch that contained a long oak swing with a high back that hung from the ceiling by chains on one end. Two wooden rockers with plush, blue-and-pink floral cushions appeared perfect for guests to sit and visit a spell. The polished oak front door with a frosted, etched glass inset and brass hardware set off the entry to perfection.
“I’m so happy to be here. Thank you for sharing your home with me.” She was charmed by the house…and Craig Thorne.
He stopped, then turned to face her. “I’ve wanted to bring you here from the first. I just thought it might not be fancy enough for you.”
“Fancy?” She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Warm and cozy suit me so much better.”
“And ranch life?”
“I think I could learn to love it, but…”
“Wildcat Bluff Park.”
“And our music.”
“Don’t you think we can have it all?”
She looked around, feeling the serenity and peacefulness of the ranch point her toward a wider world of possibilities.
“You’ll never be content to be in one place all the time,” he said. “And the cabin will get too confining after a while.”
