He hitched up his pace and entered at the far end of the building. The earthy smell of animal sweat, waste, and green hay swept over him as he stepped into the shadowed building. Pens for sheep lined one wall, and horses slept in open stalls that formed corridors throughout the building.
He angled toward the door where she’d entered—the bull pens. With heavy breathing, the bulk of the massive animals seemed to saturate the expanse as he quick walked down the aisle.
What was she doing in here?
His memory brought him down the aisle that held the Brafords. Specialized for the sport of bull riding, the monsters of the ring. Dangerous, even lethal.
And this aisle dead-ended at the most dangerous beast of them all, his own Hot Pete.
He spotted her against the far wall.
She turned, and even from here, saw her eyes widen as they fell on him. She began to back up.
No.Knox held up his hand. “Don’t move.”
But before he could stop her, she landed at the gate. It rattled.
Movement stirred from the depths of the pen.
And the woman opened her mouth to scream.
Kelsey had just wanted something to eat. A calm night in the privacy of her tour bus, ratcheting down from the adrenaline of the stage.
A moment to step outside of the persona, the headlines, the woman on the posters, to be just a girl.
A girl without demons, without the crazy that threatened to possess her brain.
Problem was, she knew better than to go out into a crowd of strangers in a chaotic tent full of raucous cowboys. She’d broken nearly all of her rules…for what?
A Styrofoam container of buffalo wings?
She should have eaten the stale Cheetos in her trailer. Then she wouldn’t have lost it when she’d stepped off the rail of the bar, fallen backward and into the hands of the tattooed cowboy next to her.
He hadn’t meant to trigger the memories, to ignite the latent panic that always simmered inside her. Didn’t deserve, really, the way she’d reacted, twisting away from him as if he might be committing a crime. Maybe he’d been trying to help…
She’d simply stopped thinking and reacted, despite the words of her counselor pinging through her—Breathe. You’re not in danger. Don’t run.
Except, that’s exactly what she did. Her feet simply took off, a primal response, and before she knew it, she’d pushed through the crowd to the fresh outside air.
Her brain caught up then, slowed her down to a reasonably normal walk. She’d pressed her hand to her chest.Breathe. You’re safe—and she might have successfully clamped down on the moment, wheeled her way past the self-recriminations—Why can’t you be normal? Don’t make a scene!—if it weren’t for the voice that followed her out of the stupid tent and thundered in her wake.
“Stop!”
Hardly. And no, probably no one was going to hurt her, not anymore, but the rush of her pulse in her ears cut off any remaining thought, his words—even her sense of self-control—and she’d, well,panicked.
At least she hadn’t screamed, hadn’t melted down into a fetal puddle on the path.
Although her all-out sprint away from the voice, back toward the RV park certainly didn’t seemnormal.
Her stalker followed her down the shadowed valley between the tent and the next building, and—what if he followed her all the way back to her tour bus?
It wasn’t as if Dixie or Gloria or even Carter would be around to…what? Protect her?
She knew better,hello. She could depend on no one but herself.
So Kelsey had ducked into the barn, hoping to lose the stalker in the shadows.
A gut reflex, born from old habits, but yeah, a stupid move. She should have made for the bustling carnival, although given the crowds, that might have been just as foolish.