“Roper! Thank heaven!” He could hear noisy music in the background. “Where are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m at the hospital. No—no, I’m fine. It’s Lila’s daughter, Gemma. She was found unconscious in a stairwell at the hotel. Somebody put her out with chloroform.”
“What?” She spoke up to be heard over the music. “Oh, no! Will she be okay?”
“She’s awake but still groggy. They’ve got her on oxygen and some kind of IV drip. The doctor says she’ll be all right in a day or two. One of the cleaners found her. They got the room key off her and called her mother. Lila’s with her now. You can imagine she’s pretty upset.”
“But who would do such a thing?”
“We’ve got our suspicions. Sam is on his way here to question her.” Roper paused. “Where are you? What’s all that noise I can hear?”
“I’m at the buckle ceremony for Hayden. He showed up at the last minute and won the cutting event. Now it’s party time.”
“But—Hayden? I thought he left. What about his father?”
“His father had already passed when Hayden got there. He decided to fly back here and compete as a tribute. Now that the award ceremony is done, I’m just getting out of here. The party’s already getting too wild for me. Where can I find you?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Lila wants to stay with her daughter, and she’s going to need some support. I can be here. There’s nothing scheduled for tomorrow but the Shootout.”
“I can look after One in a Million for you.”
“Thanks, but I can manage that. You’ll have your hands full when Mother gets here tomorrow.”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me. She said she planned to stay in the room, which is fine, except that she’ll want me to stay with her.”
“All the more reason to kick up your heels and have fun tonight. I know Hayden will be mourning his father, but the prestige that goes with winning a big event, along with the money, should at least give him something to celebrate.”
“We’ll see about that.” Roper sensed the lack of excitement in her voice. Maybe things had cooled with Hayden.
“As long as I’m here, at least let me check on your horses tonight,” she said. “That way you can spend all the time you need to with Lila.”
“Thanks,” Roper said. “Make sure they have feed and water. You can call me if you notice anything that seems off to you.” Glancing back into the waiting room, he saw Sam walk in. “I’ve got to go. Have fun. That’s an order.”
Her laugh sounded strained. “You know how I feel about taking orders. Give my best to Lila and her daughter. Maybe we can meet when this mess is behind us—with or without Mother’s approval.”
“Thanks, Little Sis.” Roper ended the call and hurried to meet Sam.
The party was ramping up. Hayden, surrounded by well-wishers, was already on his third Michelob. Cheyenne had seen enough rodeo parties to know that she didn’t care to stay. The horses would give her an excuse to get away from the noise and the drinking.
When she failed to get Hayden’s attention, she found a cowboy she knew and asked him to pass on the message that she was leaving to check on her brother’s horses. Then she slipped out through a side door. Hayden wouldn’t be pleased, but he had plenty of friends to keep him company. He might not even miss her.
The lights in the barn were low, the horses stirring and chuffing as they settled for the night. The familiar scent of fresh manure mellowed the machine-cooled air.
Cheyenne knew her way to One in a Million’s stall. The great roan stallion nickered and peered over the gate as she approached.
“Hello, big boy,” she said. “Are you lonesome?”
The stallion chuffed and lowered his head, allowing her to reach up and stroke his face. His skin was like warm satin. According to Roper, he was much calmer now. But it remained to be seen whether he’d be ready to perform in the Run for a Million on Saturday, two nights from now.
“Have you got hay and water, boy?”
A five-gallon plastic pail stood outside the stall. Cheyenne was petite. But by turning it over and standing on it, she could see over the gate. If the horse had needed anything, she wouldn’t have been afraid to go into his stall. But she could see his water bucket and hay feeder. Roper had left him well supplied. She continued stroking him.
“Are you going to be our Saturday-night hero? Or is that too much to ask after what you’ve been through. How’s your buddy next door doing, hmm?”
From Fire Dance’s stall, there was nothing but silence. Cheyenne strained her ears and listened for the slightest movement, even the sound of breathing. She heard nothing.
She knew better than to open the gate. But she had to know whether the traumatized stallion was even alive. She moved the bucket and stood on it. Now she could see over the gate. But the stall was in full shadow. There was still no movement. No sound. She stretched on tiptoe, leaning a little over the top edge of the gate.