came a female voice from a room off the lobby.
As he headed in that direction, he debated how to handle this. The door was slightly ajar. He tapped on it.
“It’s open,” called the female voice from inside. “Don’t be shy.”
He stuck his head in the doorway to see a woman sitting at a desk, her head down as she scribbled something on a scratch pad. “I’m looking for—”
“You’ve found her,” the woman said without glancing up. “Come on in.”
As he stepped in, she looked up and gave him an appraising once-over. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” She motioned in a circle with her hand. When he didn’t move, she said, “Turn. Let’s see your backside.”
“Pardon me?”
“Don’t pretend to be shy with me. I’ve seen more than my share. Turn around.”
Sawyer did as ordered, chuckling to himself as he heard her let out a low whistle. What kind of commercials were they making up here anyway?
“Yep, you’ll do,” she said, getting to her feet. “Wait a minute. Are you limping?” Before he could speak, she said, “You can ride, though, right?”
“I assume you’re referring to a horse?”
She smiled and jammed her hands down on her abundant hips. “Cowboys,” she muttered under her breath as she sat back down. “You’re the best I’ve seen today. Just tell me if you can ride for long shots.” She was eyeing him as she talked. “You could also stand in for a carnie once they get the rides going. Yep, I’m betting they’ll want you for a couple of days.” She turned toward a board with keys on it. “You’re in luck. We have one cabin left since the hotel is closed. So I’m assuming you wouldn’t have driven all the way up here unless you could stick around for a few days?”
He started to correct her, to tell her that he hadn’t come here looking for a part in whatever she was shooting. But instead, he heard himself say, “I can ride, and I can stay for a while.”
“Great. Fill out this form and be back here by seven in the morning.” When he didn’t interrupt, she continued. “Here.” She slid a cabin key across the desk at him. It was connected to a piece of wood with the number eleven burned into it. “There’s food in the hotel kitchen 24/7 when we’re shooting. You can dress just like you are. But if you feel you need wardrobe—”
“No.” He’d play along but would draw the line at being duded out. “I didn’t see any horses on the way in. Where do I—”
“Just go back out the front door and follow the smell. Ted will assign you a horse and saddle.” With that she waved him out as her phone rang, and she quickly picked it up with a—
“Hey, that better be you calling to tell me you have what I need for tomorrow.”
As he left, he hoped Ted would know where he could find Ainsley Hamilton.
* * *
AINSLEY TIED HER horse’s reins to a tree limb and pulled the pistol from her saddlebag. She’d taken it from her father’s gun safe before she’d left home the last time. She hadn’t told him, not wanting to worry him. He wouldn’t miss it, and she’d been afraid she might need it. He’d taught her and her five sisters to shoot at an early age, so a gun felt just fine in her hands.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of guns, but also I want you to have respect for them,” Buckmaster had said. She and her sisters had become quite adept at target practice since they were all fairly competitive.
The problem was the difference between a paper target—and a person. It was a person who’d followed her. Someone on horseback? If so, that would mean he’d gotten one of the horses being used for the commercial shoot.
And if she was right, he’d followed her, knowing that she was trapped in the box canyon with no way out if he decided to take this opportunity to finally confront her.
Show your face. The way he kept hidden added to her growing anxiety about the man. What did he want? Maybe she was about to find out.
She snapped off the safety, telling herself she wouldn’t kill him—just wound him. Unless he was armed. That thought sent her heart pumping. He finally had her entirely alone. Was that what he’d been waiting for?
The sound of rock on rock. Gun raised, Ainsley moved through the narrowest part of the canyon and stopped to listen. She could almost hear him breathing; he felt that close.
* * *
TED WAS A young cowboy, skinny and tall with a shock of red hair and ever-present sunburn. He gave Sawyer a nice-looking roan and a saddle and told him he lived on a ranch not far away. It was clear that he was excited to be providing horses for a TV commercial.
“A friend of mine works up here. Ainsley Hamilton? Do you know where I might find her?” Sawyer asked.
Ted nodded and smiled, before pointing off to a wide open meadow and a stone cliff behind it. “She took off toward Box Canyon about twenty minutes ago. You could probably catch up to her. Wouldn’t hurt to get some saddle time in before you have to go before the camera, I would imagine,” he said.
“I’d appreciate that,” Sawyer said and saddled up. Riding past the still and silent carnival, he headed for the canyon. The day was quite warm now for the end of October. The leaves on the aspen trees in the meadow hadn’t fallen yet. Sun-dappled, they shimmered red, orange and gold in the breeze. Past them, the pines were a dark cool green at the mouth of the canyon.
The moment he rode into the ponderosa pines, the temperature dropped. The sheer rock walls cast the canyon in shadow. Sawyer noticed what appeared to be an old creek bed winding its way out of the canyon. He could see Ainsley’s horse’s tracks in the dirt.
Reining in, he swung out of the saddle. He’d decided to walk into the canyon, rather than ride, to give him time to consider how he would handle this. Normally he preferred the truth.
But he’d gotten the feeling from Frank that he was dealing with an independent woman who might resent him butting into her business. Also, she didn’t know him from Adam. He figured it might make her less self-conscious if she thought he was just an extra hired on for the commercial. He might be able to find out who was following her, take care of the matter, and Ainsley would never have to be the wiser.
The commercial was supposed to wrap in a few days, according to Ted. Sawyer figured he’d be able to find the man tailing Ainsley long before that.
Tying up the horse at the opening of the canyon, he ventured in. As he came around the corner between the two rock cliffs, he heard something and drew up short. Standing just yards ahead was a young blonde woman dressed in jeans, boots and a blue-checked Western shirt, holding a gun on him.
“STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” Sawyer ordered as a stream of pebbles cascaded off the side of the cliff, clattering on the ground between them. Glancing up, he caught movement as someone stepped away from the edge of the canyon wall above them. He swore and held up his hands. Frank had faxed
