“See? We make a good team. We’ll be okay.”

    * * *

    For a few days Sierra was tense and worried; her visit with the police brought the whole event to the surface again, made her feel like a victim again. She called Sergeant Tilden of the sexual assault unit four times and each time she got a little more information. The latest news was that, because the suspect was in the wind and they had excellent probable cause to arrest him and prosecute him, they were getting a little help from the FBI. Colorado’s state police were also notified. “Should I be calling the FBI for information?” she asked.

    “Nope,” he said. “I’m still your point man. Call me anytime.”

    She began to calm down. And she had a pair of strong arms around her. Connie brought her comfort and solace.

    Connie was also on a mission. He took her rock climbing a couple of times, which she found exhilarating. He took her to a gym in Denver where there was a self-defense instructor to give her a refresher on some of the moves she’d learned over a year ago. He also introduced her to a couple of new techniques.

    “Why are we doing all this?” she asked.

    “Because, Sierra, you need to bolster your confidence. That’s half the battle.”

    He supplied the alarm button she could attach to her key chain. They took it out in the country to test it and it was deafening. It also alerted his cell phone with her location.

    A couple of weeks had passed since she’d been to Michigan when she told Sully about her situation. The hardest part was seeing this tough, cynical old guy shaken by the information. Later that same day he presented her with a bat. “I thought we could use two bats on the job.”

    “Did you go buy this for me?” she asked.

    “I did,” he said. “Sleep with it under your bed. Put it in the backseat of your car when you’re out.”

    “Thank you,” she said. “Please, don’t be upset. I’m working through it.”

    “Of course you are,” he said. “Don’t aim at his head. If he’s got reflexes worth a damn, he’ll stop it with his hands. Aim at his knees. Be crafty—make it look like you’re trying to hit him in the head, then swing lower. Fast. You have to be fast.”

    She smiled at him.

    “Practice,” he said. “And on those nights you’re not with Connie, would you oblige an old man by staying in my house? Just until we can safely put the matter of that bastard’s whereabouts behind us?”

    “I can,” she said. As much as she longed to establish her independence, now might not be the wisest time to push something like that.

    Sierra, with Sully, Connie and Cal all looking out for her, felt a growing sense of confidence. Not enough to relax but enough so that not quite fifty of every sixty seconds was dedicated to the tension and fear of feeling hunted. Then even that began to give way.

    The month of August was busy in every possible way. She was picking up time in the diner as some of the high school waitresses were looking for more afternoons to accommodate their school schedule and there was heavy tourist traffic in the campground, in the town, on the lake, on the trails and roads. The campground was teeming with people and the store was busy; Sully was grateful for Sierra’s help and Sierra was glad to be distracted by the activity. She felt a little safer, never being alone. The last days of summer would peak with Labor Day weekend and after that, life would be quieter.

    “Except for the rut season,” Sully said. “You’ll hear a lot of bugling among the bulls, a few fights over especially attractive cows. Rut season peaks around the end of September. We’ll be seeing some hunters—bow season first, starting in September. And then come the rifle hunters. Around here, mostly bow. At least it’s quieter. And along with the archery season, the leaf peepers show up.”

    Sierra looked forward to observing some of that, at a safe distance.

    The last weeks of summer brought other changes to the little town. For one thing, Connie was so present around Sierra, so affectionate and tender, there was no longer any question as to the disposition of their relationship. He either held her hand or had an arm around her shoulders. She was just leaving the diner when he was returning to the firehouse and he gave her a brief kiss. Across the street Alyssa was standing on the sidewalk in front of the beauty shop and saw them. Her mouth fell open. She whirled and fled back into the shop.

    “Oops,” Sierra said. “I guess she wasn’t expecting that.”

    “I told her I was seeing someone,” he said with a shrug.

    “I don’t think she believed you,” Sierra said. “You didn’t tell her it was me? Why not?”

    “Because I’m not going to discuss my love life with her. I don’t owe her any explanations.”

    “I heard her mother passed away last week,” Sierra said. “Was there a funeral or celebration of life of some kind?”

    “A funeral. Alyssa left a message for me at the firehouse. I sent a bouquet and made a donation to cancer research but I didn’t go.”

    “I hope you didn’t skip it because of me,” she said. “I wouldn’t have questioned that.”

    “No, babe, not because of you. Because of me. I’m not mad at Alyssa anymore but I don’t want to be any closer than we are right now. And I thought what mattered was visiting Rachel when she was alive. I’m glad I did that. The only thing left was to pay my respects to the family when she passed. I did that, too.”

    There were other things going on in and around Timberlake. That small shop of Daisy’s was changing owners in a few months and there was talk of it becoming a commercial marijuana dispensary. A pot store. The local business owners were gossiping about it a lot. Some were up in arms; they worried about drawing a lot of heavy drug users to the town. Others were thrilled to have a moneymaking venture on the main street. No one seemed to know who was buying the store.