Roan stepped aside and gestured to the brass doorknob. “Open it and go in. See what you think?”
Shiloh felt a little bit like a kid at Christmas, barely able to wait to tear off the wrapping on the packages. She pushed the heavy cedar door open. As she moved into the large, rectangular room, with a panel of windows on its southern wall, she halted. She felt Roan come to her side, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “Wow, this is a REAL workout room.” There was a small gym next to the dining room at the ranch headquarters and Shiloh knew Roan was over there every morning, working out. But here, she saw not only weight-lifting equipment, but also half of the room was empty with only a dark blue mat covering the floor.
“I think you might be more interested in this half of the room,” he said, leading her toward the mat.
Shiloh stood near the edge of it. “What’s this for?”
“I was thinking that you really didn’t know any defense moves so I decided to purchase a work mat and I might show you how to protect yourself once you went home.”
She heard a tinge of sadness in Roan’s voice. It wasn’t anything obvious, but as she got to know him, she could sense a slight change of tone, or a look in his eyes or facial expression. “This is wonderful. And thoughtful,” she said, and she gazed up at him, lifting her hand, touching his hard upper arm beneath the chambray shirt he wore. Shiloh saw that warmth in his eyes for her again and heat sheeted first to her heart, which expanded with a rush of joy, and then straight down to her lower body. She ached to love this man again.
“Well, if you want, we can always drive out here for an hour and do some practice moves. You just let me know.”
Turning, Shiloh followed him out. There were two doors on her left and she halted at the one next to the gym. “What’s in there? Have you decorated them, too?” Her curiosity was eating her alive. Everything else in Roan’s home was inspiring to her. The surprise was he knew color and design. She looked up at Roan halted. He seemed undecided.
“Sure, go ahead.”
Hesitating, Shiloh opened the door. It was an empty room, the large windows allowing in northern light. What caught her attention was the room was painted a soft, light lavender color. It was her favorite color. Roan came to her side and she looked up at him. Had he done this with her in mind? Her intuition told her yes. She wasn’t going there. At least, not yet. “It’s pretty,” she said. “Nice and roomy.”
“It’s one of the two rooms that are the blank canvas,” he said, giving her a slight smile. “The one next door is the same.”
“As I recall, it was going to be a second bedroom?”
“Yes, still will be. This is the office.”
Her heart beat a little faster. Roan had already invited her to come and live with him. It was such a huge step, the implications major in her life. And she waffled, feeling terrible because every particle of her being wanted to be with Roan. If only the stalker could be identified and found . . .
*
Shiloh could barely contain herself as Sarah Carter, commander of the Lincoln County sheriff’s department, invited them to sit down. She had a glass-enclosed office, a huge maple desk, and there were two comfortable chairs out in front of where she was sitting. The midafternoon sun was muted because her office was on the north side of the massive three-story red brick building.
Shiloh liked the woman’s red hair tamed into a bun at the base of her neck. Dressed in the khaki uniform, she was near Shiloh’s own height of five foot nine and had light green eyes, the color of spring leaves, her face heart-shaped and beautiful. She thought Sarah might be in her late twenties, although she looked more college-age to her. There was an intensity to the sheriff’s large eyes. Shiloh thought she missed little and that made her feel good. She introduced herself and shook Sarah’s long hand. There was nothing weak about the woman but she didn’t come off as tough and hard, either. That made her breathe easier.
“Roan was telling me earlier you have a story to tell me, Shiloh?”
She felt her palms grow damp and clasped them in her lap. “I do.” She handed her the list of people who had been at Wind River the morning she felt threatened. Sarah thanked her and set it next to her computer.
Sarah opened up her laptop. “Fire away. I’m all ears. Let’s see if we can help you.”
Shiloh felt relief because Sarah was open and warm. The woman was totally unlike the New York City policemen and the detective who had come to her apartment, and the forensics team who had dusted her door for fingerprints of her stalker. There was doubt from the very beginning and the detective, especially, seemed to question her sanity. Taking a deep breath, Shiloh launched into the story.