his advice, but she didn’t have any intention of stopping for some single guy in the middle of the night, especially some single guy wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night. Did he think he was Jack Nicholson or something?
Over the past three years, she’d finally put the freaks and weirdos behind her. She didn’t need to go looking for them.
She sped up to put distance between her car and the dark sedan behind her. Her tires squealed as she took the last curve on the highway and her car shuddered in the back. She gasped and squeezed the steering wheel. Maybe she did have a flat.
The light from Ben Pickett’s service station glowed at the bottom of the hill, and Julia’s pulse slowed to a steady beat. At nine o’clock Ben would still be working.
Careening into the parking lot, she angled her car in front of the brightly lit market. She hunched down in the seat and watched the dark sedan speed past the service station. Either the driver didn’t realize she’d stopped or he figured he performed his good deed for the night…or he knew he couldn’t strangle her at the service station.
She jumped at the tap on her window. Ben, his cap pulled low on his forehead, grinned at her.
Dragging in a breath, she powered down the window. “Hey, Ben.”
“You heading home after class?”
Living in Silverhill, everyone knew her business, but she didn’t mind. It gave her a sense of security. At least someone cared about her.
“Yeah, I am. A guy pulled up next to me and yelled out the window that I had a flat tire. The car wobbled when I came off the hill.”
“Well, let’s have a look.” He disappeared as he crouched behind her car and then his head popped up. “The tire ain’t flat, but the lug nuts on your right rear wheel are loose. I’ll tighten those right up.”
Ben got some tools, and Julia ambled into the market to get some coffee. She wrapped her hands around the steaming foam cup as she stepped into the cool night air to watch Ben work. Settling her shoulders against her car door, she gazed into the blackness where the road led into Silverhill. No sign of the dark sedan and the dark-haired man.
Why did he tell her she had a flat tire and how did he know the lug nuts were loose?
Unless he’d loosened them.
JULIA HATED secret admirers.
She crushed the wildflowers in her fist, the petals dropping like tears onto the porch and the sweet smell clinging to her fingers. Someone placed a similar bunch, tied with a pink ribbon, in the same spot two days ago. No note, no name.
Her gaze darted from her fenced-in garden to the street beyond. Nobody lingered to see if she received the gift. Nobody waved, claiming to be the thoughtful neighbor.
Julia hated secrets.
Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head back and drank in the view of tall mountain peaks ringing the cozy town of Silverhill. Their proximity instilled a sense of security deep in her bones. The Colorado Rockies kept the outside world at bay, creating a safe haven for her and her daughter in this little community.
The trees across the road rustled, and Julia narrowed her eyes as she scanned the greenery. The incident with the tire last week had her on edge. She’d asked around and a few people told her a loose wheel could resemble a flat tire on the highway. The man in the car was probably more Good Samaritan than Ted Bundy. But a single woman couldn’t be too careful. Especially a single woman with no memory.
She spotted a flash of red clothing zigzagging through the trees and her pulse ticked up a few notches. Tossing the bedraggled bouquet over the porch railing into the dirt, she backed up to her front door and stumbled over the threshold. The screen door slammed and she reached for the door handle.
A woman’s voice sang out, “How are you today, Julia?”
Julia peered through the mesh of the screen door, releasing her pent-up breath. Gracie Malone, the town gossip, leaned over her garden fence, waving.
Julia would be damned if she’d have Gracie spreading stories about how she scampered inside her house the minute she saw someone in her front yard.
“I’m just fine, Gracie. Out for an early morning walk?” She shoved the screen door open and wedged her shoulder on the doorjamb.
“Yes, and you? Are you and that adorable little girl of yours going for a hike this morning?” Gracie’s bright little eyes, like black buttons, flickered from the beribboned flowers on the ground to Julia’s face.
“I’m packing up right now.” Or she had been until she noticed the scraggly posies on the porch railing.
“It’s such a shame Shelby doesn’t have a father.” Gracie shook her head back and forth in an exaggerated fashion, her tight gray curls quivering. She tapped her chin. “Charlie’s still sweet on you. We have a lot of room in that old Victorian, you know, even with the B and B.”
Julia knew Gracie desperately wanted to marry off her only son so she could have more people in the house to boss around and someone to help out with the guests. So desperate she’d saddle her only son with the town freak.
“We’re going to get ready for that hike now. You have a good day.” Julia left the front door open, settling on locking the screen door. She had more to fear from Gracie Malone and her dull son than some secret admirer. Could that secret admirer be Charlie?
“Mama?” Shelby padded out of her bedroom rubbing her eyes with bunched-up fists.
“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re going on a hike this morning.” She scooped Shelby into her arms and buried her face in her neck, inhaling the sweet fragrance of watermelon shampoo from her hair. At four, Shelby no longer had that pure baby smell, but new, interesting smells were replacing it. Little girl smells.
Shelby giggled as Julia found her ticklish spot along her collarbone. “I’ll help you get dressed.”
Twenty minutes later, Julia swung the backpack over her shoulder and locked the front door behind her. Crushing the crumpled flowers into the dirt with her heel, she took Shelby’s hand and headed toward the road.
From Silverhill’s main street, they picked up the entrance to the mile-long trail that wound its way into the foothills. The trail followed a soft slope, skirting outcroppings of rock and spreading into fields of wildflowers and gentle streams—a perfect outing for a four-year-old and a woman still fighting to regain emotional stability.
Spring had come early to the Rockies and summer was hot on its heels. The early morning sun warmed Julia’s face. Shelby slowed the pace by picking up stones, snatching flowers from the rock crevices and veering off the path to chase butterflies.
“Ouch!” A rock bit into Julia’s heel. When she stopped to slip off her shoe, Shelby zipped around the next bend. Holding her sneaker, Julia hobbled after her.
“Shelby?” She rounded the corner, but Shelby had disappeared. A swath of anxiety settled on her skin as her gaze raked through the thick patch of trees. Julia plowed forward, rubbing her arms. “Shelby, come back or we’re going home right now.”
Her
