them so delicious.”
The singer in the cover band playing John Denver hits finished up “Fly Away” as they approached the tent where Sarah Reese sold baked goods. She had a frown on her face and Chase identified tension in her stance. Uh-oh. Something’s up.
He stepped forward and Sarah spotted them. Lori noticed her mother’s troubled face, too, because she said, “Whoa, there’s a frown for you. Tell me you’re not all stressed out about the quilt contest?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then what’s the matter, Mom? You look like you mixed up the salt and the sugar when you mixed your funnel cakes.”
“Hopefully nothing, but … there was a guy by here that said some things that made me uncomfortable.”
Chase stepped forward, his gaze scanning the crowd. “What guy? What did he say?”
“No one from around here. Do me a favor, would you? Run over to the sheriff’s office and tell Zach I’d like to speak to him?”
“What guy?” Lori demanded. “What did he say?”
“Where’d he go?” Chase asked, glancing around.
“It’s probably nothing, but go on now.” Sarah made a sweeping motion with her hand. “Go get Zach.”
She dismissed them by turning a bright smile toward a couple pushing identical twin boys in a stroller. “Oh, if you aren’t the cutest little guys in town! One of my best friends has twin daughters about the same age as these boys.”
Chase tugged Lori’s hand and they started up the street. “That’s weird,” she said. “Mom works with the public all the time. She doesn’t shake easily. But if she were too worried, she’d have picked up the phone and called.”
“We get some strange characters coming down out of the mountains from time to time.”
The sheriff’s office was only a couple of blocks away from Sarah’s arts festival booth, so they reached it quickly only to discover from the dispatcher that Zach had left the office a few minutes earlier to begin a foot patrol of the festival.
They explained what they needed and the dispatcher immediately attempted to reach the sheriff on the radio. They heard only static. “I swear that radio he carries is nothing but a piece of junk. We need new equipment around here desperately. I know he was headed north. If you two scoot out the back door, you might catch up to him before I can pass along your message.”
Lori and Chase left the sheriff’s office and jogged back toward Spruce, turning north. “There he is,” Chase said, spying Zach Turner walking toward them, his radio at his ear. He waved and called the sheriff’s name.
Zach returned the wave, said something into his radio, then returned it to the clip on his hip. Down the street, the band launched into John Denver’s “Annie’s Song” as they drew within speaking distance. Zach said, “Hello, Lori. Chase. What’s up?”
“My mother is looking for you. She’s worried about—”
Bang!
Chase instinctively turned toward the sound. A man he didn’t recognize held a handgun pointed in their direction.
Zach started forward. Chase lunged for Lori as the vocalist sang about giving his life away.
Bang!
Zach fell. Chase and Lori fell.
She gasped in pain before they hit the ground.
Bang.
Something warm and wet seeped onto Chase’s arm. Blood. He smelled it. Saw the bright red horror of it. Time seemed to stand still.
Lori. Dear Lord. “Lori? Lori!”
Chase closed his eyes and shuddered at the memory. “I’ll never forget it. You said ‘I think I’ve been shot’ and my blood ran cold. It’s the most afraid I’ve ever been, before or since. You were so pale. We were both covered in blood. I was afraid we’d lose you. Afraid I would lose you. That’s when I knew I was in love.”
For a long moment, the only sound to be heard in the room was the crackling of the fire.
“Okay, you’re right. My ‘moment’ was better than yours. That was a frightening afternoon.”
Chase dropped his head back and stared up toward the ceiling.
The singer in the cover band playing John Denver hits finished up “Fly Away” as they approached the tent where Sarah Reese sold baked goods. She had a frown on her face and Chase identified tension in her stance. Uh-oh. Something’s up.
He stepped forward and Sarah spotted them. Lori noticed her mother’s troubled face, too, because she said, “Whoa, there’s a frown for you. Tell me you’re not all stressed out about the quilt contest?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then what’s the matter, Mom? You look like you mixed up the salt and the sugar when you mixed your funnel cakes.”
“Hopefully nothing, but … there was a guy by here that said some things that made me uncomfortable.”
Chase stepped forward, his gaze scanning the crowd. “What guy? What did he say?”
“No one from around here. Do me a favor, would you? Run over to the sheriff’s office and tell Zach I’d like to speak to him?”
“What guy?” Lori demanded. “What did he say?”
“Where’d he go?” Chase asked, glancing around.
“It’s probably nothing, but go on now.” Sarah made a sweeping motion with her hand. “Go get Zach.”
She dismissed them by turning a bright smile toward a couple pushing identical twin boys in a stroller. “Oh, if you aren’t the cutest little guys in town! One of my best friends has twin daughters about the same age as these boys.”
Chase tugged Lori’s hand and they started up the street. “That’s weird,” she said. “Mom works with the public all the time. She doesn’t shake easily. But if she were too worried, she’d have picked up the phone and called.”
“We get some strange characters coming down out of the mountains from time to time.”
The sheriff’s office was only a couple of blocks away from Sarah’s arts festival booth, so they reached it quickly only to discover from the dispatcher that Zach had left the office a few minutes earlier to begin a foot patrol of the festival.
They explained what they needed and the dispatcher immediately attempted to reach the sheriff on the radio. They heard only static. “I swear that radio he carries is nothing but a piece of junk. We need new equipment around here desperately. I know he was headed north. If you two scoot out the back door, you might catch up to him before I can pass along your message.”
Lori and Chase left the sheriff’s office and jogged back toward Spruce, turning north. “There he is,” Chase said, spying Zach Turner walking toward them, his radio at his ear. He waved and called the sheriff’s name.
Zach returned the wave, said something into his radio, then returned it to the clip on his hip. Down the street, the band launched into John Denver’s “Annie’s Song” as they drew within speaking distance. Zach said, “Hello, Lori. Chase. What’s up?”
“My mother is looking for you. She’s worried about—”
Bang!
Chase instinctively turned toward the sound. A man he didn’t recognize held a handgun pointed in their direction.
Zach started forward. Chase lunged for Lori as the vocalist sang about giving his life away.
Bang!
Zach fell. Chase and Lori fell.
She gasped in pain before they hit the ground.
Bang.
Something warm and wet seeped onto Chase’s arm. Blood. He smelled it. Saw the bright red horror of it. Time seemed to stand still.
Lori. Dear Lord. “Lori? Lori!”
Chase closed his eyes and shuddered at the memory. “I’ll never forget it. You said ‘I think I’ve been shot’ and my blood ran cold. It’s the most afraid I’ve ever been, before or since. You were so pale. We were both covered in blood. I was afraid we’d lose you. Afraid I would lose you. That’s when I knew I was in love.”
For a long moment, the only sound to be heard in the room was the crackling of the fire.
“Okay, you’re right. My ‘moment’ was better than yours. That was a frightening afternoon.”
Chase dropped his head back and stared up toward the ceiling.
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