Lost Rodeo Memories. Jenna Night

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       ONE

      “She’s alive!”

      Melanie Graham wasn’t sure if she just heard someone yell something, or if she’d been asleep and dreaming. Feeling groggy, she lifted her heavy eyelids and found herself gazing at a dark night sky, dotted with spiky silver stars. Her view was silhouetted with pine-tree branches high overhead that shifted back and forth in the cool, swirling breeze.

      That was odd.

      When she’d gone to sleep last night, it was in a bed in a hotel room. Her lodgings were across the street from the Community Attractions Arena in Leopold, Wyoming. After three hectic days the Wild Ride Rodeo had come to an end. She’d carefully packaged up all the jewelry she had left in the sales booth she’d rented in the merchandise-and-concessions area—and there wasn’t much left over, as sales had been good—and then she’d gone to her hotel to relax and get a good night’s sleep. She distinctly remembered setting her alarm so she could wake up early and start the four-hundred-mile drive back home to Bowen, Idaho, just as the sun came up. So what was she doing lying on the ground?

      “Ma’am, are you Melanie Graham?”

      She shifted her gaze to look at the young man kneeling on the ground beside her. He was holding a flashlight and wearing a jacket with the words Event Security written across the front in big silvery reflective letters.

      Apparently he’d been talking since she’d first opened her eyes, but his words hadn’t registered. The sound of them was like hearing someone speak on TV, in another room, when she wasn’t watching the program. It felt like what he was saying had nothing to do with her.

      Except, maybe it did. Whatever was happening right now wasn’t a dream. It was real.

      A jolt of terror shot through her chest, and she sat up, screaming and trying to crawl backward, away from the man, even though she wasn’t sure why. The sudden movement made her head spin, throwing off her balance until she found herself pathetically crawling on her side, tearing her hands on exposed rock and pine cones and tree roots, but she didn’t care. From deep inside something screamed at her that she had to get away.

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