Page 20 of Cowboy Peril

Chapter Nine

A thud jerkedParker away. Her gaze dashed from one corner of her loft to another. Tuxedo meowed and burrowed under the blankets.

When the sound came again, Parker sat upright. Someone was on her front porch. Leaving another gift or something more deadly?

She eyed her phone on the nightstand, tempted to call Colt. What if the noise was simply the wind? Was it just her imagination after receiving the ominous warning the day before? She needed to make sure before she overreacted.

Parker landed softly on bare feet as she slid from the bed. “You stay here.” She patted the kitten under the covers wishing they would shield her as well from the evil at bay.

A shadow crossed, outlined through her window shades by her porch light. There was someone there! Who was patrolling the ranch? Why hadn’t they seen this person?

She tiptoed to the kitchen and slid a butcher knife from a drawer. It’s what the heroine did in all the movies. Why couldn’t it work for her?

Hand trembling, she approached the door only to be meant with silence. She held her breath and waited. A few seconds later, there was another thud, then the scrape of something by the small kitchen window. None of the windows in the tiny house were big enough for an adult to squeeze through except for the one in the loft. The only other entrance was the front door. What did this person intend to do?

When the sounds came from the back of her house, she dashed out the front door, leaped off the porch, and raced for Colt’s house. After a frantic pounding on the door, she plasteredher back to his wall, knife held in front of her, and strained to see through the dark.

Her breath caught in her throat as footsteps crunched the gravel around the house. He was coming for her! She closed her eyes, then snapped them open. Not waiting to be cornered, she made a mad dash for the closest building. The tin barn.

The door squeaked open when she tugged on it. She inched it closed and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. A nightlight, activated by motion, glowed from one high corner. Enough to let someone who entered after her see just fine.

If she didn’t move, the light would stay off until someone else entered. She’d have some warning in order to react.

Still clutching the knife, she found an empty horse stall and slid to a crouch in the far corner. The dust and straw tickled her nose. Do not sneeze, please do not sneeze. She sneezed, then froze. No sound of the barn door opening. The small side door, the one closest to her, always opened with a click, but she’d overheard the men say they kept that one locked at night. She kept her focus on the main door.

There were only so many places to look for her. The main house would be locked, and she doubted the intruder would risk trying to enter there. Once he ruled out the tiny houses and the bunkhouse, he’d come here.

Her hand grew moist around the handle of the knife. Could she even use it if someone came after her with the intent to kill? She hoped she wasn’t one of those meek women who fainted rather than fought.

Parker put a hand to her chest as if she could keep her heart from beating free. Her breath came in gasps. She very well might faint after all.Why is this happening, Daddy?Why did someone kill you?Why do they want me dead? Tears burned her eyes.

No. She Would…Not…Cry.A Wells never gives up. They never show weakness.She pulled her knees to her chest,realizing she’d wore satin shorts and a camisole to bed. Great. She’d die in her girly pajamas with tears streaking down her face. Colt was right. She was pampered and spoiled.Now was not the time to evaluate her shortcomings. She could do that in the morning…if she lived that long.

Hiding under the covers sounded better by each passing second. At least then, she’d die in her bed instead of in the barn like an animal. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her forehead on them. Breathe in, breathe out.

How long had it been? Maybe whoever was on patrol scared the person away. How long should she stay before venturing out?

She sneezed again, a slight wheeze sounding in her chest. Wonderful. She hadn’t had asthma problems in years. Now, when it was most inconvenient, the hay triggered it. Parker glared at the straw she sat in, then slowly got to her feet. She needed to get out while she could still breathe.

The barn door slid open.

With as much of a primal scream as she could muster with her lungs sounding like a squeaky screen door, she raised the knife and pounced from the stall.

~

“Whoa!” Colt jumped back and gripped Parker’s wrist. “Give me that.” He took the knife from her hand. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”

“Outside.”

At the sound of her wheeze, he scooped her into his arms and outside. “Do you have an inhaler?”

She nodded. “Nightstand.”

He raced for her house and deposited her on the sofa before thundering up her stairs. He found an inhaler in the nightstand. The label had been worn off. How old was the thing? He couldn’tremember ever seeing her with one before. Colt rushed back to her side and handed it to her.

She took one puff, held her breath, released it, and took another. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t know you had asthma.” Concern filled him.

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