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Race of Her Heart

By Robin Densmore Fuson

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Chapter 1

Confetti spilled as Jalyn opened the card. Grinning, she read the words.
Hope you had a happy birthday.
It will be your last!
The card slipped from her fingers and she sank to her knees. Covering her face in her hands, a moan escaped. She wiped the moisture from her cheeks. Her hands shook as she picked up miniature metallic skull and crossbones.
Somehow she managed to get to her couch and made a call.
“This is Jalyn Stewart I need to report another incident…Yes…Yes, you do…Correct…Please hurry…”
She hugged a pillow as the world around her shrunk and the worry and fear from last year came back in waves.
A knock at the door sent her to peer out the peephole. An officer and a badge. She opened, leaving the chain hooked to scrutinize her caller before sliding it out of the way.
“Miss Stewart, remember me? Officer Kent, and this is Detective Marlow.”
“Thank you for coming. It’s there.” She pointed to the mess on the floor of her new digs back in her home town of Durango.
The officer pulled on gloves and stooped to gather the evidence.
Detective Marlow said, “I spoke to Detective Green who handled your case in Lake Placid. He’s sending me the file. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Officer Kent will be in the loop and you can contact either of us. We take care of our own. Let us know if you get any more threats.”
Jalyn shook their hands, they departed and she double-locked the door. She didn’t want this latest incident to rule over her mind and emotions. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin.
The next few weeks became a whirl of activity as she tried to keep herself busy, pushing the thought of the birthday warning out of her mind. Although she kept a watchful eye and glanced frequently over her shoulder.

You thought moving here would make you safe.
The doorframe yielded the scrap of paper at the first tug. Jalyn reread the note and again the words jumped off the page. Her stomach dropped.
A frown creased her forehead and her heart thumped as she entered her apartment and leaned against the door. “Why does this keep happening?” she whispered to an empty room. The eerie words mocked her. A psycho had her in his crosshairs. The keys clanged onto the table along with the note.

The deadline loomed. Jalyn imagined crumpled paper balls strewn on her floor around the worn desk, had she used a typewriter instead of her computer. Her part-time job took more hours than she had anticipated when she hired on eight months ago but she had embraced and enjoyed her journalist position. Her boss, Clark, although a taskmaster, had been a family friend for years. He hired her for her sports interests in both baseball and skiing and for her hometown roots. Jalyn’s journalist classes helped with the technical aspects, but he seemed to love the insight and passion she wrote in her posts and as a bonus allowed her to work from home. All in all, moving back to Durango from Lake Placid had been a blessing.
Writing about the events in the town of her birth brought her face to face with the people and their uplifting or sad stories and she loved the connection.
Lately, though, she found it difficult to focus on the happenings of Durango, Colorado. Preparations for the upcoming race and parade didn’t seem important. Planning her wedding—that was important.
The office chair squeaked as she leaned back. Jalyn’s eyes went to the padded green memo board she had made with blue ribbon held on with dark blue daisy pushpins. The fun board held reminders and special keepsakes slid in under the thin ribbon. Pictures of her parents, a picture with her in ski clothes and skis ready to push off down the slopes, a dried rose from Timothy hung upside down, and a card that said, “Save the Date” all caught her eye. At the top of the card, a photograph showed Timothy with his arm around her, their joined hands resting on his thigh. Seated on a huge fallen tree, they were surrounded by breathtaking orange, yellow, and golden leaves. Below, a caption announced, Timothy Blake and Jalyn Stewart are getting hitched! A bold red circle appeared on the small calendar denoting, Saturday, September 24.
She grinned at the remembered moment almost two years ago. Love and happiness. So much had happened since that picture including her skiing accident last year and recovery. Jalyn loved the picture and would have been happy with this being the only invitation but the formal white and gold ones were waiting to be mailed. She had spent hours folding and stuffing them. Timothy had wanted her to have the printers do everything but Jalyn wanted to save money.
Another cup of coffee should boost her drive. The kitchenette a few feet away held her coffee bar which included a fancy drip pot, flavorings, sweeteners, cream, and cups hung on a rack on the wall under the cupboard. The grinder hummed as she stretched, relieving the kinks in her neck and back, and the throbbing in her leg. Brilliant sunlight from outside sparkled off her chrome coffeepot.
Sounds from the bustling street below beckoned her to the open window. Colorful flowers arrayed in pots, banners strung across Main Street, and a sizzle of excitement filled the spring air. The historic town that melded into contemporary, geared up for the first motorized bicycle race vs. steam engine. The route would take them on an exciting 45.2 mile journey—traversing the tracks and up Highway 550 through Animas Valley in the heart of the San Juan Mountains, a three-thousand foot incline in elevation up to Silverton, an old mining town turned tourist stop.
Jalyn’s mind went to the article she wrote a few days ago. History marked races of all sorts—dirt bike, foot, car, and even mule back in the day, but this was unique. Not that electric bicycles were new, they’d been invented in the 1880s, or so the research for her article explained. This race idea started as a bet on the mighty steam engine to rule supreme. Two means brought travelers to Silverton—highway and train. The people of La Plata County would soon find out the true champion and crown their victor.
A chime alerted Jalyn as the nutty aroma reached her senses. Anticipating the flavor, she smiled. “Ahh, coffee.” The first sip—magical. Mug in hand, she reclaimed her place before the computer. Coffee close and available for short interruptions, her fingers flew across the computer keyboard and click-clicked for the next half hour.
The screen blinked, message sent. She grinned, satisfied she finished before deadline and hoped Clark, her editor, would be happy with her piece. Jalyn stood and stretched, touched her toes, and then reached high above her head. She scooted her chair under the desk, traversed the few feet to place her cup in the dishwasher, grabbed her handbag, and rushed out to her first wedding dress fitting.

The little boutique beckoned a passerby to stop and view the window display of gorgeous gowns and tempt a bride-to-be to walk in to try on a new or handmade gown or have alterations made. She smiled as the bell above the door announced her arrival. “Old-fashioned-Chic” was how she would describe the atmosphere and wares.
Malena Campbell, her best friend and seamstress, greeted her with a hug. “Finish the deadline?”
Jalyn grinned. “In the hands of Clark as we speak.”
“Yay! Now you can relax and slip into your gown.” Malena guided her to the dressing room.
In a few moments, Jalyn stood in a creamy white dress.
Malena regarded her and winked. “You chose well, Jalyn. The ivory complements your complexion, and contrasts nicely with your auburn hair. Your blue eyes sparkle. Give me a turn so we can catch the swish of your dress.”
Jalyn did as bidden, stopped, and studied herself and her friend in the mirror. Delighted smiles filled both ladies’ faces. Malena met her gaze and gathered material at her waist. “I’ll take a tuck here to accentuate your curves. Where do you want the hem? Did you find the shoes you’ll be wearing?”
“Oh, no! I forgot to order them.” In the mirror, Jalyn caught her friend’s eyes focusing on the trademark of stress in her life—a one-sided smirk. With purpose, she relaxed her expression.
Malena mumbled through pins in her mouth, “That’s all right, I’ll do the altering and later we can hem. Let me know when you’re free after your shoes arrive.” She removed the last pin and secured it through the fabric. “Is Colleen styling your hair and makeup?”
“Yes. I’m grateful she moved here shortly after I did. Having a professional makeup artist and hairdresser who worked with me before is a wonderful gift. We had an enjoyable time searching sites and deciding on a hair style. I chose an upsweep creation with a few loose ends. She suggested sparkly pins scattered throughout, which will enhance my jewelry.”
Malena smiled at Jalyn’s reflection. “The image is striking.”
Jalyn watched as Malena frowned and scanned her features. She felt the scrutiny and resisted the urge to look down. Instead, she met her friend’s eyes.
“Are you relaxing this evening or is there a game?” Malena asked.
“I’m umping two—at six, and eight o’clock.”
“I don’t know how you do all the physical things you do. Running down leads for stories and umping baseball and softball. How is your leg?”
“You know. Stiff and sore. The splintered bones ripped up the muscles and the plate gets cold sometimes. Nothing some heat cream, hot baths, and pain meds can’t cure. Push through the pain, right? Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
“You would tell me if you weren’t?”
Jalyn slipped her arm across her friend’s shoulders. “Of course. BFF’s do that.”
Malena grinned and nodded. “Yep. Since high school.” She crossed her arms. “I thought you had a date with Timothy.”
“He canceled. He’s working on a brief for court. And as it happens, they were short umpires so I took the extra two games.”
Malena pursed her lips. “Timothy should be pleased you have the added income.”
“Don’t be mean. He just thinks I need to stay busy.”
Malena rolled her eyes. “Right.”
Jalyn caught the look and let her shoulders slump. Sadness clambered to take possession of her soul. Malena and Jalyn didn’t see eye to eye when it came to Timothy and what Malena perceived as his lack of attention and assumed motives. Would Malena retract her inference? Jalyn swiveled and gazed at Malena, hoping.
Instead, Malena changed the subject. “Are you going to the singles’ pizza party Saturday?”
So again, this was how it was going to be. Stuffing down her sadness Jalyn answered, “I’m not sure. Clark wants me to cover the cyclists’ arrival. The racers are here three weeks early to get acclimated and familiarize themselves to the route. They’re scheduled to arrive on the bus at two. You know, all the hoopla and fan-fare. Afterward, I head home to write it up for Sunday’s edition.”
“Party’s not until seven. Why don’t you invite those participating in the race? The cute ones, at least. It’s good for morale,” Malena wiggled her eyebrows.
“Yours, maybe.” Jalyn grinned at her best friend, deciding not to stay upset. Malena had a right to her opinion and they had been friends since they were children. “I’ll choose the best-looking one without a ring on his finger and ask him if he is interested in making an acquaintance of a tall brunette. Will that do?”
Malena chuckled and hugged her, “You know, I love you and I trust you to pick out the cutest one.”
Jalyn winked and dashed in the other room to change into her umps uniform.

Jalyn arrived early to the ball fields. She called the games without an overabundance of complaints from the players or hecklers in the stands. Too many times, the adult players acted like children, argued, grumbled, and sometimes tossed the bat with a force to rival a cannon ball. She umped different leagues, all ages, on various days. One of the children’s teams had a difficult coach. Kicking dirt on her became a normal occurrence.
A few days ago, she had a run-in with Coach Reid. He didn’t like the strike-out call she’d made. The large man got in her face and wouldn’t let up. He screamed and kicked dirt. “Blind woman! Anyone with any sense could see that the ball was inside. Heck! It could have hit my player! Were you napping again?” When the obscenities flew, she ejected him. The other coach had to encourage him off the field. Reid fumed and mumbled that he’d get even with her. She tried to shrug it off. Boys will be boys, even six-foot-two, handsome, and when not on the ball diamond, charming and gregarious.
When she got home, she drew a bath and added Epsom salts. The hot water eased her sore muscles and throbbing leg. As she soaked, she opened a book and stretched out, resting her head on a blue and green air pillow adhered with suction cups to the porcelain. She loved to relax and read in a tub of hot water to ease the soreness, especially at the end of taxing days. Today was especially taxing. Working the extra games exacted weariness and pain on her bones and muscles and the body language and verbiage of Coach Reid bothered her. Anytime she called a ruling against one of his players he seethed and fussed at her. She took her job serious and like the other day, the ball had clearly crossed in the strike zone. A foul was still a foul, a clean tag couldn’t be called anything other than an out.
The novel should’ve been a good distraction but she couldn’t concentrate. She finally set it aside. The conversation with Timothy played again in her mind. “Jalyn, I need to work and can’t take you out to dinner and a movie. We’ll need to make it another time.”
“Oh, Timothy, I’ve been looking forward to your company and the movie. I hear it’s got crazy action. Are you sure?”
“Tell you what, how about breakfast tomorrow morning at the diner, eight o’clock? I really need to work. I’m sorry to disappoint.”
“Eight it is. I’ll miss you.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
“Love you.”
Nothing. She had spoken to an ended call. He had already hung up. Not even a good-bye. Jalyn went deeper into the water, up over her chin. He spent way too much time at the office.
After toweling off and donning her comfy purple cotton jammies, she crashed on the sofa for a movie, enjoyed a salad, and grabbed her computer to order a pair of adorable pumps to go with her wedding gown. Her phone chimed near the close of the movie. Not wanting the interruption, she let it go to voicemail.

Saturday morning’s sunlight brought Jalyn up early. She chose her clothes carefully. The breeze warned of a cooler temperature and she needed to dress the part of a reporter. Blue denim vest on top of cream pullover, jeans, heels, and a bold splash of coral statement jewelry. A little bit of sophistication, but not too much, for this mountain town. The day, she anticipated, would be busy.
Jalyn’s stomach rumbled as she anticipated the peace offering breakfast. She walked the few blocks to the café, hoping Timothy had made reservations. At this time of year, the town teemed with tourists so she never knew if a table would be available.
As she stopped at a light, she glanced at her cell, and remembered she’d neglected to check her messages. The call she didn’t answer last night had a blocked number, but a message had been left. “You were lucky,” the muffled voice warned.
Jalyn froze as icy fingers gripped her heart. She instinctively glanced around, and then frowned at her phone. She whispered, “Why is this happening? Who is this psycho?” Unwilling to let this creep take over her life by inciting fear, she kept walking. It took her a block to steady her nerves. Timothy would think her childish, and she could imagine his reaction. “Jumping at shadows, dear. A misdial. Happens all the time.” A tinge of guilt from keeping this all to herself clambered for attention. All her problem, not anyone else’s. She tugged at her vest, and straightened her shoulders before pulling open the door to the café.
Always on time, if not early, he looked handsome wearing a dark burgundy open neck pullover and jeans, his brown hair combed to perfection. Gray eyes met hers, and a smile spread showing a great wall of pearly whites. He stood and pulled out the empty chair, giving her a kiss on her cheek before she sat.
“Jalyn, you look beautiful today, an important meeting?”
One eyebrow shot up. “I thought I mentioned it. I’m covering the arrival of the racers this afternoon.”
He picked up his menu and shook his head. “I’m sure you didn’t.”
She held her menu without seeing it, as she remembered back to their conversation a few days ago. His voice in her head as clear as it was then. “I hope you get a bonus for acting as a reporter instead of your normal pay for an article.”
“My title is journalist, Timothy. That means, if they want me on a story, I go—extra pay or not.”
“That might be fine this summer, but don’t let him take advantage of you next season when you’re a ski instructor to the elite.” He had winked, but his words still stung.
Her favorite server, Delores, came to the table which brought Jalyn to the present, and they gave her their choices from the menu. “I’ll be right back with your coffee.”
Jalyn and Timothy didn’t say anything as they waited. Delores returned and poured the rich dark liquid into their cups, smiled, and went to another table. Jalyn added a bit of cream and a sweetener. The coffee soothed as it warmed her. She smiled at Timothy, dispelling her disappointment in his forgetfulness. “Coffee is good this morning.”
“Ah, huh.”
“I tried on my dress for our wedding. Malena has to take it in a little.”
“Hum.”
“I ordered the cutest shoes.”
“Okay.”
Their omelets arrived with side of fruit for her and a bran muffin for him. They bowed their heads in a silent prayer, and turned their concentration to the meal.
Her mind went to a time when he used to converse with more than guttural answers. His mind must be on the case. “Are you going to the singles pizza hangout tonight?”
“You know those things don’t appeal to me.”
“I think I’ll go. Malena and Colleen will be there.”
“Might as well, while you can. We’ll be married soon, and then you won’t be tempted to hang out with those singles anymore.”
Jalyn studied him and felt her eyebrow rise. She almost asked if he meant her friends or the group. Instead, she changed the subject and relaxed her brow. “Are you coming to Mom’s after church for lunch?”
“I have to work. I need to get more research finished before the court case. I need to button it up, patch up some loopholes, and prepare my opening statement.”
Jalyn frowned. “I thought you had your opening ready.”
“Oh, I… tore it up. I want to start over with a different punch.”
That seemed odd.
After a moment she took a deep breath and said, “Mom’s making your favorite, roast with all the fixings, and pie for dessert. I thought it’d be a good time to discuss plans for the wedding and finalize the invitation list.”
“Sorry. Have fun without me. You and your mom can enjoy some girl time. Maybe you could bring me a piece of pie on your way home?”
She gazed into his eyes, trying to understand what he might be thinking.
He shifted and signaled for more coffee. “Thanks, Delores. As usual, the coffee is perfect. Can I have a to-go cup please?” He regaled Delores with his charming grin.
I wish he would flirt with me like he used to. Guess he doesn’t feel like he needs to woo me. After all, we’re engaged. Still…
“You’re far away. Come back to the present.”
Jalyn refocused. “Sorry.”
“Are you ready? Want to walk with me back to the office?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
The café teemed with people. Jalyn wove through the waiting patrons as Timothy followed.
Once outside, he took her hand as they ambled down the street. Her limp wasn’t so pronounced and uncomfortable at this pace. He matched her progress. “I’m sorry this case is taking so much of my time.”
“I understand you have a job to do, and you’re a wonderful attorney. That’s one of the things I love about you—your passion for what you do.” She rested her head against his shoulder.
“Don’t hold a seat for me at church. I’ll be working all day.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “Oh, Timothy. Can’t you at least come for the worship service?”
“I moved here when you did, to take this partnership for our future. I need to make my mark in this town and courtroom. I’ll have more time after this case.”
They started off again and soon arrived at his office. On the door, Schmitt and Blake stood out in black lettering. Her fingers traced the name Blake. She smiled at him. “I guess the boss has to show the rest how it’s done. After this win, will you be able to hire a paralegal to do the grunt work?”
“I’m hoping to. If we win.”
“You will. I have every confidence in you. Also, I’m praying for your wisdom on this case.”
He leaned in, kissed her cheek, and then went inside.
She turned toward her apartment, glanced at her cell phone to check the time, and saw she missed a call from Clark. In a sudden rush, she ducked into the Durango Herald’s office.
Clark appeared busy as ever, but when he noticed her through the glass, he waved her into his cluttered office. He thumbed to the chair on the other side of his deck. “Take a load off. Great job on the piece. The people will eat it up. Nice bit about that guy who used his electric bicycle to help the people get coal and food after the flood in 1911. That ties in perfectly to our racing characters. Who would have thought electric bikes were invented that long ago?
“Anyway, I still have that staff reporter opening. I could use you fulltime and your presence would give us a little charm around this old building. Whatcha say?”
“Clark.” She crossed her arms. “I already told you, tutoring on the slopes gets me as close as I can to my lost Olympic dream, and in the summer I enjoy umping.” She nodded. “Besides, I like to keep the pressure down to the bi-monthly deadline.” She gave him a toothy grin.
“Okay, kid. Just don’t go hurting yourself again.” He winked. “You’re irreplaceable.”
She met his eyes, relieved for the zillionth time pity wasn’t evident. “Is there anything else? I need to get to the ball field.”
“No. Shoo!” He waved her out the door. “Don’t be late meeting the bus! I want an impactful story!”
A few blocks took her to her apartment, situated over a stitchery and yarn shop, where she threw on her umps uniform. She hurried to her car for the short drive to the ball diamond. Two games later, she dashed back home for a shower and to change back into her outfit to meet the bus.
Parking could be a challenge. She spied a slot. Relieved, she slipped her car in the opening. Jalyn glanced at the digital clock on her dash. The bus should arrive in about ten minutes, if it wasn’t late. She grabbed her bag before exiting her vehicle for the short trek.
At the stop, she stood apart, yet near the other people who had gathered. Pieces of conversation drifted toward her. Excited family members waited eagerly for the bus. A few friends or family members hung out to gather their loved one from the bus. Curious townspeople mingled around the bus stop, which meant they had read her article. Jalyn smiled. Phone in hand, she captured a few shots and took mental notes to add another dimension of human interest to her article.
On time, the bus came into view. The hiss of brakes filled the air. The door opened and a slightly rotund man stepped down to open the baggage compartment. He hefted bags not so gingerly to the ground. Passengers disembarked, one at a time. Some had come for a visit, spotting loved ones enthusiastically waving, and rushed over for an embrace.
Jalyn’s attention was drawn to an older mother and obvious daughter in an emotional hug. Embarrassed to be caught witnessing the reunion, she turned toward the bus.
Recognition hit her. The handsome face—straight nose below green penetrating eyes above a quirky mouth with full lips yielded a craggy smile. Her heart lurched. She had last seen him boarding a train five years ago.
Strong broad shoulders on a six-foot, three-inch frame—taller than the other men climbing out who must be contenders for the upcoming race. Most of the men milling about were shorter and very lean. Adam’s gaze pierced into her being as realization ignited his face into a contagious lopsided grin. Jalyn couldn’t help herself. Giddiness quivered down her spine.
He always did that to her. She had mourned their lost love for a little over two years until she had met Timothy. An impromptu thought crept in. Had he changed?
The crowd pressed in, blocking her view. A sudden coolness gave her goose bumps. She rubbed her covered arms. Strange. The sun stood bright in the sky.
Excitement filled the cramped space where the cyclists stood after leaving the bus. The town was absolutely captivated over the race. People advanced for autographs. The three week build-up of excitement would boost interest in the race and the readership of the Herald. Also, this gave them plenty of time to mingle with the citizens of Durango and for some to take advantage of the surrounding beauty and sightseeing opportunities.
Jalyn realized she’d shirked her duties and pushed forward. The contestants pulled their dismantled bikes out of the storage under the bus. She punched record on her phone. Avoiding the tall one, she stopped one of the contestants. “Excuse me, I’m Jalyn Stewart from the Durango Herald. Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Sure.”
“What’s your name? When did you get interested in electric bicycles, and is this your first race?”
The questions and answers began as she interviewed the racers. The task unavoidable, she sidled up to Adam Walker. “I didn’t know you were coming. I mean, I didn’t know you would be one of the contestants.”
“Jalyn, you’re as beautiful as I remember. Can we go somewhere to talk?”

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