The cold air felt good!  Kate pushed harder, letting the pavement under her feet set a rhythm for her thoughts.  She remembered every turn, every street and even the cracks in the sidewalk.  After all these years, those cracks were still there.  Some new ones too, but for the most part, everything was pretty much the same. 

Was that why everything felt so…right?  She had only been back in Cheyenne for a couple of weeks, but a part of her rebelled at the idea of leaving this town again.  Leaving last time had nearly destroyed her.  Without Mack waiting for her, she hadn’t wanted to come back for the holidays.  She’d done so only because her mother and father had been here, waiting for her.  Her father’s death, right after she’d graduated college had brought her back again.  That had been brutal.  Every moment during that funeral, she’d wished that Mack had been with her, his strong arms around her, or even just his hand in hers. 

He hadn’t been here though.  He’d joined the military.  From what she’d heard, he’d excelled there, although she wasn’t sure what he’d done during his time in the service.  It had all been very hush hush, but her mother had whispered about rumors regarding his heroics.  Nothing confirmed, and Kate hadn’t responded to her mother’s comments, so Mack’s name had never come up again.

Still, she wondered. She turned right, heading towards the park and “Big Boy”, the enormous train engine that had been retired to a place of honor in the town.  Cheyenne had been established in the eighteen hundreds, a stop on the transcontinental railroad.  It had been one of the biggest towns this side of the Mississippi at one point.  But now, it was just a cozy, small town with about sixty thousand residents.

Pushing harder, she rounded the huge train engine, barely noticing the dog that sprang into action after his owner threw a tennis ball, or the geese floating serenely on the large pond.  Kate wondered how the ducks survived the cold weather.  Winter here in Cheyenne was a challenge for most people.  Why hadn’t the ducks gone south to a warmer climate? 

Just another mystery of life, she decided, feeling the cold, winter air bite her cheeks.  Snow, she thought.  They’d probably get snow later today.  Maybe just flurries, but even that would be welcome.  She hadn’t seen much snow since she’d moved to Florida. 

Turning back towards her house, she pushed herself harder, knowing that the rest of her early morning run would be uphill. There was a serenity during a run that allowed Kate to zone out, to release the tension in her shoulders and finish her runs with a calm that nothing else could achieve.  Running…centered her.  It gave her the ability to concentrate more completely during the day.  She loved it, craved it!  It was her time to talk with God and center herself, to list all of the things she was grateful for and give thanks to God for each of those gifts. 

As she ran up the sidewalk, she wondered how many of her old neighbors still lived in the neighborhood.

At the top of the street, Kate slowed, allowing herself to cool down.  Taking in big gulps of air, she looked around, her gaze immediately drawn to the old Victorian.  The memories of being in that house were merciless.  Pausing in front of it, she peered at it through the pre-dawn light.  It didn’t look nearly as rough as it had when she’d been in high school.  The house had basically been abandoned.  The lack of a full time owner was a big reason she and Mack snuck into the house so often.  It had been their secret meeting place, she remembered with a wistful smile.  Her father had forbidden her to see Mack, referring to him as “that asshole kid with no future!”  But Kate had adored Mack.  She’d loved him with all of her teenage heart.  She’d loved his calm silences, the way his eyes would light up when she teased him, or the way he’d initiated her, slowly and carefully, into the world of making love.  Oh, if those rooms could talk…. 

Turning, she pushed the memories away, the stab of pain in her chest warned her that those memories still hurt.  Even after all these years, they were too painful for her to probe. 

But maybe it was time, she thought.  Perhaps she should exorcise those memories, give her aching heart a nudge to finally get over Mack, once and for all. 

 

Mack startled awake.  In one smooth movement, he pulled himself out of bed and froze, pistol in hand, the safety off as he listened.  Nothing.

But the hairs on the back of his neck warned him something wasn’t right.  He’d learned to pay attention to that warning signal.  It had kept him alive too many times to count.  Grabbing the jeans from the floor, he pulled them on, but didn’t waste time on shoes or a shirt.  He estimated that it was about twenty degrees outside, so he hoped that he didn’t have to go out. 

He grabbed his cell phone and stuffed it onto his pocket as he went through his house, room by room.  Nothing.  It wasn’t as if someone could hide in the house since the only furniture was the mattress and box spring in his bedroom.  The other rooms were refinished, reflecting their original beauty after years of hard work at refinishing the house, but they were empty of both furniture and criminal activity. 

Moving silently, he slipped down the stairs.  It was still dark outside, but he could feel someone in the house.  Still, there was no noise.  Nothing to tell him why his senses were firing on all cylinders.  He thought about calling it in, but waited, needing to be more specific about the barely perceived threat. 

Nothing on the first floor.  He looked around, his eyes now adjusted to the low light coming in through the windows. 

There!  A movement outside caught his eye.  Someone in a dark outfit was staring at his house.  He froze, peering out the window while keeping most of his body hidden by the wall.  The person wasn’t doing anything.  Just staring.  Casing his house?  They’d be disappointed if they tried to break in.  There was nothing here to steal besides his dirty laundry. 

The person crossed the street and turned up the walkway to a house.  Ms. Maven’s house!  Damn it!  The person moving through the early morning light was smaller than average, but even short people could be a threat. 

Slipping out the side door, he moved across the street, keeping the person in his sights as he dialed the phone.  “This is Detective Hayden,” he murmured to the dispatcher, reciting his badge number.  “There’s a break in in progress.”  He gave the dispatcher the address.  “I need back up now.”

The dispatcher repeated the address, and told him backup was on the way.

Mack inched closer, watching as the black-clad individual muttered something when the front door didn’t open.  Did the guy think that the door would be unlocked?  Okay, that was a possibility.  Plenty of people around here didn’t lock their doors. In fact, neighbors sometimes barely took the time to knock before they walked into a friend’s house.  They’d simply step inside and call out to announce their presence. 

The person moved around on the front porch, tilting back the potted plants.  Damn it, why had Maven put a spare key under the pansies?!  Silently, he mouthed several expletives, but moved across the street, keeping to the shadows.  He knew that Maven wasn’t home, she was in Fort Collins and safely out of the way, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to be robbed. 

He slipped around to the side door as the person slid the key into the lock and opened the front door.  The squeaking of the old door was incredibly loud in the silence of the early morning.  That sound allowed him to sprint quickly into position, arriving at the front door before the culprit could close it. 

“Freeze!” he commanded, his deep voice shattering the silence of the pre-dawn morning. 

A gasp echoed throughout the room and…it sounded almost familiar.  But he couldn’t place it.  Adrenaline rushed through his system as he stepped to the right and grabbed the person’s arm, twisting until he could pin the culprit to the wall.  A higher than anticipated yelp of pain warned him that something was off.  But he couldn’t take the time to figure out that sound.  Once he had the cuffs on the burglar, then he could focus on whatever was off. 

“Hold still,” he growled when the person wiggled. 

“What are you doing?” a feminine voice shrieked.  “I live here!”

He didn’t believe her, but again, that warning bell sounded in his head.  He paused, still holding the person’s wrist. 

“This is Emma Maven’s house.  Who the hell are you?”

“I’m her daughter!  I’m Kate Maven!”

Mack’s shock was profound and he did something he’d never done in a situation like this.  He dropped her arm as if she were on fire and backed away. 

“Kate?”

Slowly, the figure turned. The dim light from the streetlight revealed her features.  Huge, green eyes glanced over narrow shoulders, hitting him in the gut. 

“Mack?” she whispered through numb lips. 

Jerking backwards, he stumbled further away from her, staring wide eyed with horror and disbelief.  “What the hell are you doing here?”