Lost Rodeo Memories. Jenna Night

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СКАЧАТЬ see the light shining on a badge, and that he wore the uniform of a Miles County, Idaho, deputy sheriff. The county where her home was located. It was one more thing that didn’t make sense.

      Confusion made her head pound. And then she realized something else was making her head pound. It actually felt sore.

      “Confirm, we’ve found Melanie Graham,” the deputy said in a deep voice into his collar mic. “Get emergency medical services moving toward my location.”

      At the same time Melanie reached up to touch her sore, aching head. Her hair felt damp. Even before she looked at her fingertips in the glow of the two flashlights, she knew by the coppery scent that she’d touched blood.

      What had happened to her?

      Her body began to tremble. Her head started to spin even faster. She couldn’t catch her breath.

      “Melanie.” She heard the deputy say her name, but she couldn’t stop staring at the blood on her fingers. Couldn’t stop trying to peer past the shrouded memories in her mind and figure it out. How did she get here?

      “Melanie.” The deputy’s deep voice was louder now and it broke through her trance. She turned to him. He crouched beside her. Dark hair, dark eyes, the expression on his face focused and thoughtful, yet compassionate at the same time. “You’re safe,” he said.

       Safe from what?

      “I’m Lieutenant Luke Baxter,” he said. “I’m a deputy sheriff.” He reached out his hand, but didn’t actually touch her. He waited for her to make the first move.

      Finally she took his hand. “What happened?” she asked, struggling to sit up.

      “Wait,” he cautioned, while holding up his other hand in a staying gesture. “It would be better for you to wait until the medic checks you out before you start moving around too much.”

      “What happened to me?” she repeated.

      He lifted an eyebrow. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

      “I don’t even know where I am.” Her voice caught and she could hear a sob rising up in her throat. She’d never felt so lost in her life.

      The deputy squeezed her hand a little tighter. His touch, along with the feeling of calm and strength emanating from him, made her feel a little less panicked. “You’ve obviously sustained a substantial blow to your head,” he said. “That can leave anybody addled. We’ll get you to a doctor as soon as we can.”

      She heard tree branches snapping, boots stomping on hard-packed dirt, and people talking, and then an emergency medical crew stepped through the trees and into the clearing.

      “What’s the last thing you can remember?” the deputy asked.

      Melanie got the impression he was in more of a hurry now. That he wanted to get all of the information he could from her before the paramedics transported her to the hospital.

      She tried hard to think back, but the last thing she could remember was being in the hotel in Wyoming. A flare of panic threatened to push the sobs she’d been swallowing back up to the surface again. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She squeezed the deputy’s hand a little harder, because right now he seemed like the only certain thing in her life. The only anchor she could hold on to.

      Which was crazy, because she’d only just met the man. But she didn’t want to face any more strangers right now. Didn’t want to feel any more bewildered and overwhelmed than she already did.

      “Oh, dear Lord,” she began to pray softly, uncertain what she would say next. And immediately the thought came to her. I will be with you always.

      She was never alone, even if she felt alone. How many times had she reminded herself of that over the last couple of years, as she’d pieced her life back together? Lots of times. Her lungs were tight with fear, but she managed to take a deep breath and blow it out. She loosened her grip on the deputy’s hand without actually letting go of him and answered the paramedic’s questions as best she could.

      During pauses in her conversation with the medic, Melanie spoke to the deputy. “The last thing I remember is going to sleep in my hotel room in Wyoming.”

      By his long silence she could guess he was trying to decide what he should say to her.

      “I realize I must be back home in Miles County,” she said.

      “Where do you live?”

      “In Bowen.” The biggest city in the county. Which didn’t mean it actually was a big city. Some people probably wouldn’t call it a city at all.

      They were interrupted while one of the medics talked to her, shined a pen light in her eyes several times and felt around for any apparent broken bones. Her head still pounded, but at least the dizziness had subsided.

      “You aren’t far from town,” Luke said while the medic called in to the county hospital’s emergency room, with an update on Melanie and a request for further directions. “You’re in the woods just south of the county fairgrounds.”

      “Oh, that’s a weird coincidence,” she said. “I’m going to have a booth there, where I’ll sell my jewelry during the rodeo in a couple of weeks.”

      “Tonight was the last night,” Luke said.

      “Of the rodeo? How can that be? It’s two weeks in the future.”

      “It ran this past week, as scheduled.”

      So she’d lost two weeks of her life? That wasn’t possible. Panic started to raise its ugly head again. She could feel her heartbeat speeding up. Her face getting warmer.

      “How did you know to come out here, into the woods, looking for me?” she asked, not certain she wanted to hear the answer.

      Once again he took his time in answering. Probably concerned any information he gave her might traumatize her even more.

      “Please tell me,” she said as calmly as she could. “I have a pretty vivid imagination. And sometimes that isn’t a good thing.”

      He tilted his head slightly. “You had an assistant working your booth with you.”

      “I always do that. So I can take a break without having to lock everything up.” And then a terrible thought crossed her mind. “Peter Altman. Is he all right?” She held her breath while waiting for the answer.

      Melanie rented space to sell her handmade jewelry, as well as antiques and small pieces of restored furniture, in The Mercantile, downtown. Peter was a year out of high school, looking to work as many hours as he could to save money for college. The owner of The Mercantile had recommended Peter, and it had worked out great.

      Luke nodded. “The rodeo was over. Many of the vendors had already cleared out. You’d packed up your inventory and were ready to leave when you gave Peter permission to grab something to eat.”

      “A lot of the food sellers will give away leftover cooked food rather than throw it in the trash, when they’re closing up.” Melanie was trying to picture what Luke was telling her. And СКАЧАТЬ