“Nothing along those lines. I wanted to protect you from making a terrible mistake.”

“Really? Is this a new method of FBI interrogation?” The man had hurt me. More like I’d allowed him to crawl inside my head . . . and maybe my heart. “What does Sheriff Wendall intend to do with my card?”

“He’s investigating it.” Denton walked to the door.

Why hadn’t the town’s good sheriff revealed that info earlier? “If I had a suspect for the threats, I’d tell the sheriff. You and Officer Hughes are a pair.” I gestured him out the door and secured the lock behind him.

I would not get much sleep tonight. My kaleidoscope held so many shades of gray, a mix of life and death, that the idea of adding color to my life faded with each passing hour.

25

DENTON

I had slept hard as though the adage confession is good for the soul applied to a weary body too. Not even a dream to interrupt my rest. Except I woke with guilt raging through me like a fever. I rode Big Red for an hour and thought about Shelby. If I were into God like my parents and grandparents, I’d do the prayer thing. But that would mean I’d stopped blaming Him for the mess of the world. The irony of it all lay in Shelby’s transformation. Had she morphed into the woman of today because of her own determination . . . or the Jesus-thing?

My horse took me by Shelby’s cabin as though I needed to ensure she’d gone to work without any problems. I knocked on the door, and nothing greeted me but singing birds and a distant cow. Now what? If this were a regular case, I’d have my strategy memorized.

Amy-Jo’s Café served up a tasty breakfast . . .

An hour later, I sat in a booth and gave the waitress my order. Shelby stood behind the bakery case. Did she feel comfortable appeasing customers like she’d done in her younger days? Or did the memories bring back what she longed to forget? In the midst of the busy morning, Amy-Jo waved at me, and I waved back. Had Shelby told her about my deceit? Probably not, or the woman would have tossed me out of her café.

My attention returned to Shelby. She gave the customer a tender smile, genuine but sad, and melancholia emitted from her blue-gray eyes. Her smooth face and haunting beauty hid her past and present fears. I caught her gaze, and her features tightened. She didn’t look my way again, and I couldn’t blame her.

I wanted to offer her wisdom and encouragement, but what? How could one woman get under my skin in such a short time? Yet I’d known her for years, followed her every tragedy, new development, and change.

The gift shop carrying Shelby’s jewelry raised my curiosity, and I ventured over there until my breakfast arrived. Last night Shelby had been working on her latest design, but asking her about them didn’t hit the appropriate mark. A necklace dangled from a display over Simply Shelby. The dark wire framing an amber-and-brown stone looked well-crafted to me. Each piece had a name and a corresponding Bible verse. Shelby struck me as a deep soul determined to show a new woman. I admired that.