Big Sky Cowboy

In the third photograph, Harriet and Henry, the town’s mayor years ago, stood before the library. It appeared to be a dedication of some sort. Harriet was distracted. Boredom? Tessa couldn’t pinpoint the woman’s feelings.

For forty minutes, she concentrated on the photographs, but nothing about them helped her name Harriet’s killer.

The roll of her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She gathered the photographs, set them on the kitchen table, then headed upstairs. She changed into a peach-colored, scooped-neck T-shirt, jeans and sneakers.

Half an hour ago, a drizzle had begun. Now rain plopped in a light but steady syncopated beat on the sidewalk outside her store.

After snatching her umbrella, she dashed to the van. Branches swayed beneath an angry wind. Storms rarely bothered her, but the day had carried more turmoil than usual. She was edgy. The moment she slid behind the steering wheel, she hit the button for her CD player.

As she drove, fingers of lightning reached downward, brightening the street with eerie flashes. Thunder rumbled, overpowering the lilting sounds of flutes and a Celtic melody.

She slowed the van, peered between the swishing windshield wipers, checked her rearview mirror for cars behind her. One followed at a distance. She passed the Calico Diner. Through one of the trailer’s windows, she saw a server. Her dark hair shone beneath the lights. Tessa had planned on going in for a hamburger, but judging by the cars parked in the dirt lot outside the trailer with its fifties decor, the diner was crowded. She wasn’t in the mood for that many people. She turned off the town’s main street. She’d head home and search her refrigerator for dinner.

The headlights of the car behind her glared in her rearview mirror. She squinted. Was that the same car? Why would it be?

In a test of sorts, she sped up. The car closed in. Tightly she clutched the steering wheel. As she turned down another side street, the car followed. Why was someone following her? Though some people indicated displeasure about her store, no one had ever threatened her.

Yet earlier, while she’d looked at antiques, an uneasy sensation had crept up her spine. Despite the congenial greetings and the laughter generously sprinkled among conversations, people had seemed jumpy. She’d tried to ignore the feeling. At the time, she’d thought she was feeling their apprehension. But now she knew. There had been more. More than once, she had sensed ill will from someone in the crowd.

Was that person in the car behind her? She maneuvered around another corner and toward Main Street. People. She didn’t want to drive all the way to the Calico Diner. But she needed people. Lots of people.

In the dark confines of the car behind her, desperation seized the driver. No chance could be taken. People were remembering how Winona Cobb’s niece, Crystal, in Whitehorn, who was supposed to be psychic, had helped authorities after the Montgomery girl’s death.

The possibility existed that Tessa Madison, too, had what people called sixth sense. Whatever was necessary had to be done to scare her off.

Her car stayed on Main Street, then turned into the parking lot adjacent to Joe’s Bar. It looked packed with the expected Friday-night crowd. Did she know she was being followed? That was good. If she was scared, she’d back off.

She’d better.

Chapter Three

Her heart pounding, Tessa rushed from her car with keys in one hand and her umbrella in the other. At the door of Joe’s Bar, she glanced at the street. The car drove by. Had she imagined she was being followed? No, don’t doubt yourself. She knew what she’d felt. She knew when to be afraid. And like it or not, she felt shaky. She needed to stay off the street until she’d calmed down.

Inside, the smell of stale tobacco and alcohol hung in the air. The dog greeted Tessa first. A black rottweiler named Joe who liked women. Tessa had gone to the bar with its rustic, dark wood decor only once before with Marla.

Wet from the run in the rain, Tessa dropped to her haunches to pet Joe. As she ran a hand over his silky black coat and patted his head, she scanned the noisy and crowded dimly lit room. She gave the dog a final pat, then weaved her way around tables toward an empty one near a dartboard and the pool table.

“Do you play?”

Instantly relief rushed through her. At the sound of Colby’s voice behind her, she stopped midstride. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d needed some one familiar, a friendly face.

He flashed a smile at her. The rodeo champion smile, the smile that must have curled dozens of women’s toes. At the bar, two men whispered. Tessa raised her chin a notch when the buzz of voices increased. Wherever she went in town that happened. She hoped with time that people would get used to seeing her and the whispers would stop.

In a fluid move, Colby passed the end of the bar and elbowed the stomach of a dark-haired cowboy who was perched on a bar stool. He wore the usual garb, a black Stetson, Western work shirt and jeans, but instead of boots, he had on black sneakers with purple stripes. In response to Colby’s good-natured jab, his friend grunted instead of finishing what he’d started to say to his buddy.

“So do you play?” Colby asked again, bringing her attention to him.

Smiling over his friend’s look of surprise, Tessa nodded. She liked the unpredictable and never turned down a reasonable dare. Striding by, she slid the pool stick from Colby’s hand, then leaned over the green felt table. “Are we playing for something?”

Colby racked up the balls. “Beer and a pizza.” To her delight, his voice trailed off as she made the break and sunk a ball into a corner pocket. Two more dropped into a side pocket.

Bent forward over the table, Tessa angled a smile over her shoulder at him. His gaze lingered on her backside in the tight jeans. “If I lose, I pay?” she asked.

He was slow to answer, slow to meet her stare. A woman knew when she was presenting her best side to someone. “No, if I win, I pay,” he finally said.

Tessa couldn’t help smiling even though she missed sinking the next ball. “And if I win?”

“I pay.”

She laughed. “That’s not too logical.”

“Who said I have to be?”

You, she thought, but kept the seriousness at bay. She played to win, and lost only because she was distracted by a waitress and the smell of pizza on a tray. As the aroma of tomatoes and basil and sausage permeated the air, her stomach growled with hunger. “Is that our pizza?”

“You’re drooling,” he teased. “And yes, it’s ours.”

“You won, then.” Tessa was already trailing the waitress to a corner table.

Behind her, she heard his chuckle. “I think you let me.”

He had a nice laugh. A great smile. “How could I do that?” She decided she was definitely in trouble.

Lightly he placed a hand at the small of her back to urge her toward the table. “You didn’t distract me.”

Tessa stifled a pleased grin. “How could I distract you?”

“You moved.”

“That’s your excuse?” With a tsk, she settled on a chair. “What kind of pizza?”

“Cheese and sausage.”

“In Billings, there’s a place that makes tofu pizza.”

He straddled a chair beside hers. “Save me.”

“I guess you don’t like dim sum.”

His brows angled. “I’m a cowboy.”

She couldn’t help laughing.

“Bet you like arty-far—those foreign movies with subtitles, too?”

“Romantic comedies. Sci-fi.”

He made a face. If he’d been trying to find common ground, she thought he’d be wasting his time.