Carol Ericson - Circumstantial Memories

Ryder’s stepmother, Pam, stepped out onto the porch, planting her hands on a pair of slim hips. “Are you leaving, Julia? Shelby ’s napping. That little girl was born to ride. Can’t tell you how nice it is to have another female in the house.”

Pam, like her husband, was larger than life, tall and wiry and tough as shoe leather. She and Ralph had been married for almost twenty years and rumor had it that she’d been having an affair with Ralph while he was still married to Ryder’s mother. When Ralph and his wife divorced, Pam went from part-time ski instructor to reigning queen of Silverhill.

Pam’s affection for Shelby surprised Julia. Rod said she’d been waiting for a grandchild, but Julia figured Pam would prefer a boy to a girl. She probably got a kick out of Shelby ’s tomboy tendencies.

“Why don’t we let Shelby nap here until we get that…other business settled.” Ryder put on his hat and tipped it over his forehead to hide his face.

“Is that all right with you, Pam?”

“That’s fine with me as long as you don’t mind coming all the way back out here to pick her up.”

“I’ll get her for Julia.”

“Really?” Pam raised a brow that disappeared beneath the fluff of blond hair on her forehead. “You’re taking your responsibility toward Julia seriously, aren’t you? It’s good to see you care for something or someone close to home.” Pam turned to Julia and smirked. “That’s my three boys. Ryder feels responsible for the whole world, not so much his family. Rod feels responsible for this ranch and Rafe feels responsible only for himself.”

“We better get out of here.” Scowling, Ryder grabbed Julia’s hand. “Don’t get Pam started on the defects of me and Rafe.”

Pam waved from the porch. “Take your time.”

“Does Pam really think protecting the country and protecting and serving as a cop are defects?”

“I don’t know what her problem is. She should be down on her hands and knees thanking me every day. I’m the one who spilled the beans to my mother about the affair between my father and Pam, which led to my parents’ divorce and left the field wide open for Pam.”

“You? Your father and Pam have been married for quite a while. You couldn’t have been more than…”

“Ten.” His lips tightened. “I was ten years old and I’d been up at Snowhill skiing with my friends. I saw my father with Pam, but they didn’t see me. Later that night during dinner, I asked him in front of the entire family what he and the blond ski instructor were doing up at Snowhill Lodge.”

Julia caught her breath. Ryder blamed himself for his parents’ divorce? “What happened?”

“My parents excused all of us from the room and proceeded to have a huge fight. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time my father had checked out the ski instructors. My mother left the next day and never came back.”

“You mean you never saw your mother after that? Even now?”

“That’s right.” Ryder squinted into the sun and reached for his sunglasses on the truck’s console, squeezing them so tightly, they looked ready to snap.

“That’s not your fault, Ryder.”

“Oh no?” He lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter now. You’d think I’d be Pam’s favorite stepson, but Rod is the golden boy for staying at the ranch. The McClintock Ranch means more to Pam than most of the McClintocks.”

Julia wanted to erase the tightness from Ryder’s face, ease the pain edging his voice. “Yeah, I’m afraid I disappointed my mother by becoming a tour guide instead of going into fashion design.” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Ryder jerked his head around. “You remember that, huh?”

“It just came to me, the feeling, the emotion, everything.” She pressed her hands to her belly to still the butterfly wings.

“I suppose that’s going to start happening more frequently now.” Ryder gripped the steering wheel and drilled the road ahead with narrowed eyes.

“If it does, I have you to thank.”

“Yeah, you have me to thank.”

Ryder seemed lost in his own thoughts, so for the rest of the ride home Julia stared out the window as snatches of scenery flew by. Every once in a while, her gaze caught on a house or a horse or another car, and the detail sprang to life for her.

Just like her mind.

Ever since her session with Dr. Jim, a kaleidoscope of images and scenes had been shifting through her brain and occasionally, one would come into focus with sharp clarity. But her memories of Ryder remained cloudy.

“Doesn’t look like Sheriff Ballard is here yet.” Ryder pulled a U-turn at the end of the block and eased his truck in front of Julia’s house.

Before getting out of the car, Julia pressed her nose against the cool glass of the window. Her heart skipped a beat. Someone had left her front gate ajar. She wiped her sticky palms on her jeans. Probably the mailman.

She shoved the car door open and tripped toward the swinging gate, with Ryder calling out behind her. If her secret admirer had left another bunch of scraggly flowers, she’d rip them to pieces.

Charging up the walkway, she frowned. Something on her porch. Her gait faltered and she swallowed. Not flowers. She stumbled on the first step. Something wet. Her breath hitched in her throat. Something red. She ground her fist against her mouth.

Blood.

The oozing, thick metallic smell gagged her, causing her knees to buckle. Strong arms caught her from behind.

“What the hell?” Ryder pulled her against his chest, and she sank against his tensed muscles.

His heart thundered against her shoulder blade, giving her strength, shoring her up. She straightened her spine and took a deep breath of cleansing mountain air.

Squeezing her shoulders, he nudged her off the step. “Wait here.”

He crept up to the porch, avoiding drops of red liquid seeping into the wood. Hunching forward, he dabbed his finger at the streaks smeared across her front door and brought his finger to his nose.

“It’s blood all right,” he called over his left shoulder.

She figured that, but from what source? Her gaze darted around her small, fenced-in yard. Relief swept through her, knowing Shelby was safe with the McClintocks.

Ryder jogged down the steps, pulling a handkerchief from his jeans pocket. He wiped the blood from his fingers and grabbed Julia’s arm with his other hand. “Let’s wait outside the gate for Ballard.”

“D-do you think there might be someone in my house?”

“I don’t think so, but we don’t want to touch anything else until the sheriff gets here.”

He steered her onto the road in front of her house just as the sheriff wheeled up in his squad car.

“Are you waiting for me?” He waved a CD above his head. “I got it right here.”

Julia’s stomach clenched. She’d forgotten about that other nightmare looming in the shadows-her ex-husband’s clandestine activities.

Ryder held out his hand. “Yeah, but we’ve got another problem. Looks like Julia’s stalker paid another visit.”

Sheriff Ballard shoved the CD into Ryder’s hand as if anxious to get rid of it. “More flowers?”

“Worse.”

“Not another break-in?” Ballard scowled. “We don’t need an uptick in the crime statistics during the height of the summer season.”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff.” Ryder waved his hand toward the blood-splattered porch. “This is a one-man crime wave.”

“Hell and damnation.” Ballard hitched up his pants and gingerly walked a semicircle in front of Julia’s porch. “Looks like blood.”

“It is blood.” Ryder held up his right index finger. “I sampled a little from the lower-left corner of the door.”