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Everything inside her crystallized into icy fear as she stared into the eyes of the man she’d once thought she might be able to love. He was wearing an old army uniform—she’d seen enough M*A *S*H episodes to know it came from the Korean War. The weapon in his hand was just as old. She didn’t know much about guns; she’d deliberately avoided all knowledge of them, but even in her ignorance she recognized what was probably an M-l rifle. She shut her eyes for a brief moment. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live, with Tanner. She didn’t want to repeat the nightmare that had haunted her for fifteen years. She’d survived the first time—she doubted she’d be lucky enough to make it the second time around.

She opened her eyes, forcing a gentle smile to her stiff face. “Hi, Lonnie,” she said softly.

“Hi, Ellie.” His voice was the same, slightly high-pitched, but his eyes were blinking rapidly behind the clear-rimmed glasses, and the gun trembled imperceptibly in his hands. “Where’s he gone to?”

She didn’t waste time asking who. “Tanner’s gone to Addie’s for cigarettes,” she said. “He’ll be right back.”

“You’re lying, Ellie.” His voice was sorrowful. “Tanner stopped smoking two weeks ago. After he spent the night with you up on the mountain. He wouldn’t have gone for cigarettes.”

“But he wasn’t seeing me for two weeks, either. I think I bring out the smoker in him.”  She was still holding the pot of coffee. If she threw it at him the hot liquid might scald him enough to make him drop the gun. It would give her a running chance to get to her car.

“Put the coffee down, Ellie,” he said. “I’m not ready to shoot you yet, but I won’t be picky if you don’t do as I say. And don’t bother thinking about running. I’ve gotten very good with a rifle in the last few years. People don’t realize, they think I’m just Poor Lonnie, who can never do anything right. They don’t know I’ve been practicing, for hours and hours. I can hit anything I want.”

She took a deep breath and set the coffee pot down. “So why did you miss yesterday?”

He didn’t bother to deny it. “I didn’t want to kill you. I wanted to warn you, to give you one last chance to get away from him.”

“When did you carve my name on the monument?”

He laughed, the sound soft and eerily familiar in the quiet morning air. This was Lonnie, whom she’d laughed with, joked with, grown up with, almost made love with. This was Poor Lonnie, poor mad Lonnie, and she was going to die.

“I did that more than a week ago. I wondered how long it was going to take you to find it. I was afraid you were going to miss it entirely.”

“I would have seen it today when they unveiled the monument,” she said.

He laughed again. “No, I don’t think so. Of course, I haven’t made up my mind, but I don’t think I’ll wait for the unveiling.”

“Wait for what, Lonnie?” But she already knew the answer. “To take my place in history,” he said simply. “I’m not going to be Poor Lonnie any more. I’ve watched, you know. I’ve watched all these years, when the most important person in this town was Charles Tanner. In a few short minutes he changed the lives of everyone around here. He’ll never be forgotten. They still bring him up on the national news whenever there’s a new killing. People don’t forget, they sit up and take notice.”

“Yes, they do,” she said carefully. She was close enough to the coffee pot to grab it again. Tanner hadn’t been gone more than forty-five minutes. He wouldn’t start to worry for at least half an hour, maybe more. He wouldn’t come in time to save her, but at least he wouldn’t walk into a trap.

“Even Tanner,” he continued, his voice aggrieved. “Do you think anyone would have paid any attention to him if it weren’t for his father? He’d be wandering around here, being Poor Tanner, if it weren’t for what his father did.”

“Do you really think so?” She meant to keep the question light, to keep him talking, but his eyes narrowed and the gun swung angrily in her direction.

“I suppose you think it’s because he’s something special. All the women in town are panting after him. Even you couldn’t wait. You had to soil your body with filth like him, when you’d been keeping yourself for me. I know you had. You would have been mine, too, years ago, if I hadn’t changed my mind and decided to wait.”

That wasn’t the way Ellie remembered that embarrassing night. She remembered Lonnie’s tears, his vain attempts, and sorrow swept through her.

“I’m sorry, Lonnie,” she said gently.

“You’re no better than the rest of them. You’re trash, falling for a no-good drifter like Tanner, for the son of a killer…”

“I thought you admired Charles Tanner,” she interrupted him, no longer able to bear the hideous words that were tumbling from his mouth. “I thought you wanted to be like him.”

“I’m going to make Charles Tanner look like an amateur. When I’m finished everyone in this country will remember the name of Lonnie Olafson.”

“I think they will anyway, Lonnie. You don’t have to kill anyone to do it.” Her voice was eminently reasonable, but Lonnie was beyond reason.

“You don’t understand!” he cried, and he sounded like a petulant teenager. “I told you, I have to do it. And you’re the first. I want you to move away from the stove.”

“Why? You can shoot me here as well as anywhere,” she said calmly.

“I don’t want to. I think I want to tie you to the chair and shoot you then,” he said, his voice dreamy. “Yes, that’s what I want to do. When I’m finished with you I’ll go on into town and wait for the ceremony to begin.” He gestured with the rifle. “The chair, Ellie. I’m getting impatient.”

She moved, slowly, so as not to alarm him, and sat down on the rickety seat. He set the gun down, and once more she considered trying to run for it. He followed her gaze, and giggled.

“Don’t bother, Ellie. I took the keys to your car, and I’m a good shot. I don’t want to shoot you in the back, but I will if I have to. Sit still and let me tie you.”

She tried to struggle, but Lonnie, weak, useless Lonnie who’d never done a day’s worth of manual labor in his life, was far too strong. The ropes cut into her wrists and ankles, and she was trapped, helpless.

“Now,” said Lonnie, perching on the table and pouring himself a cup of Tanner’s horrible coffee. “I want you to tell me about it.”

She eyed him warily, still afraid to display any of the hostility that might ignite the smoldering violence lurking beneath his nervous exterior. “Tell you about what?”

“About what he did to you,” he said, his voice low and excited. “I want to hear everything. Where he touched you, what he did to you. Everything.”

“No, Lonnie.”

“Tell me!” he screamed. “I know he had you. All I had to do was look at your face that day and know you betrayed me!” The muzzle of the gun was up against her throat. “You’ll tell me,” Lonnie said. “I’ve got plenty of time before I get in place.”

“In place? Where are you going to be during the ceremony?” Knowing probably wouldn’t help—it didn’t seem likely that Lonnie would give her any chance to warn somebody, but she needed to ask.

He didn’t move the gun. “Exactly where Charles Tanner stood. On the roof of the Gazette building. There’s a wonderful view there, and no obstructions.”

“You’ll be there, waiting?”

“I’ll be there. You, however, will already be dead.” He nudged her lightly with the gun. “Are you going to make it hard or easy, Ellie? I want you to tell me what it was like to bed Charles Tanner’s son.”

A blast of white-hot rage suddenly raced through Ellie’s trussed-up body. Fury washed over her as she faced her tormentor, fury and a reckless abandon. Too many men had taken guns to prove their manhood, and now another one was facing her. She no longer cared what he did to her; she had to fight back.

“All I’ll tell you,” she said, “is that he could do it and you couldn’t.”

She was unprepared for his reaction. Lonnie burst into tears, his handsome face turning red as his narrow shoulders shook beneath the old army uniform. “No,” he wept, sinking down on the floor. “No, no, no.”

If only she’d put up more of a fight earlier, she thought regretfully. He was so absorbed in his misery that if she weren’t tied to the chair she could walk right by him and he wouldn’t notice.

“Lonnie,” she said gently, when the storm of weeping had abated somewhat. “You don’t want to hurt me. Untie me. We’ll get help for you.”

He looked up then, the tears vanishing, and his mouth curved in a sudden crafty smile. “You’re wrong, Ellie” he said. “I don’t need help. And I do want to hurt you. Very much.”

Lonnie was staring at her, a bemused expression on his face. Suddenly he pulled back the gun. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said abruptly.

“You’ll untie me?”

“Oh, no. You’re going to stay right here. But I’m not going to shoot you. I’m going to let you live. Another survival, Ellie, with everyone you love dead around you. I think that would be even nicer, don’t you think? I’ll just leave you here to wonder if I found your lover. I think I have enough time to stop by Maude’s house. Even if Tanner’s not there, Maude will be. And you know I’ll find the rest of the people in the town.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the lips, a light, gentle touch, like that of a sixteen-year-old on his first date. His breath smelled like toothpaste, his hair like shampoo, his skin like Lifebuoy and dried sweat. “Goodbye, Ellie,” he said gently.

She sat there, disbelieving, as she heard his car drive away. And then she began to struggle.

He’d been much too clever for her. The ropes were so tight they cut off the circulation to her hands and feet. If she’d only had her wits about her she might have done something. She’d read enough books, seen enough movies. Weren’t there ways she could have held her wrists, so that tight bonds loosened?

Well, she’d been too scared, and now wasn’t the time to worry about lost opportunities. She had no idea what time it was—probably sometime around noon. The ceremony was scheduled for one o’clock, more than enough time for Lonnie to take his place on the roof of the Gazette building. And he was absolutely right, the worst thing he could do to her was leave her as a survivor once more. Particularly if he killed Tanner.

She looked around her in desperation, searching for something to cut her bonds. Nothing looked promising—the only possibility might be if she managed to break the heavy earthenware coffee mug on the rickety table.

He’d tied her ankles to the chair legs, twisting her knee just enough to make each move agonizingly painful. Ellie ignored it, jerking and yanking the chair after her as she edged across the room. When she got within reach of the table she set her jaw, shut her eyes, and deliberately toppled over against it.

She landed with a crash on the rough flooring, the table beneath her, the still-hot coffee drenching her, the cook stove crumpled, and the mug still intact. Ellie had no time for pain, no time for recriminations. Ignoring the scaring pain in her arm from her reopened bullet graze, she hunched along the floor, the chair still an unwanted hitchhiker, and picked up the mug in her teeth.

She wasn’t able to hurl it with much force, and the miserable thing bounced. No wonder Tanner carried it with him on the trail. It was completely indestructible.

But she wasn’t going to give up. Damn it, she couldn’t. It didn’t matter if Lonnie had taken her car keys, she could run, she could crawl, she could make it into town if she had to drag herself. But she didn’t think she could make it with the chair still clinging to her.

She allowed herself two minutes of furious, impotent tears before heading toward the mug again. She’d thrown it too far, and each scrunching, sideways move across the rough plank flooring drove splinters into her skin.

This time she heard the sound of the car down the deserted gravel road. She stopped, just within reach of the coffee mug, and held her breath. It had to be one of two people: Tanner or Lonnie.

Even though the last few minutes had seemed eternity, Ellie knew full well that not much time had elapsed since Tanner had left for Maude’s house. Not enough for him to start to worry, to come back to check on her.

That left Lonnie. He must have changed his mind, decided to use his M-l rifle on her first. She lay there, listening for the sound of the car door opening, for footsteps on the path, and shut her eyes.

“Ellie!” It was Tanner, Tanner beside her, his hands freeing her, holding her, soothing her, his voice murmuring endearments and savage threats and words of love all tangled into an incomprehensibly reassuring monologue.

She allowed herself only a moment of comfort before she withdrew from the shelter of his arms. “We’ve got to stop him,” she said fiercely. “He’s going to kill everyone.”

“Lonnie?”

“How did you know?” She rubbed her ankles briskly. In the few minutes she’d been tied the rope had burned deep scores into her pale skin, and her feet were numb.

“Part animal instinct, part logic,” Tanner said, pulling her upright, holding her again when she swayed against him. “I think having me show up was the final straw for him.”

“I don’t know. It sounded as if he’s been planning this for years. He would have cracked sooner or later.”

“And this time I’m here to stop it,” Tanner said grimly. “Where’s he gone?”

“He said he was going to wait on the roof of the Gazette building and open fire during the ceremony.”

“The ceremony starts at one, and it’s a little after twelve-thirty. We don’t have much time, Ellie.”

“Let’s go.”

“I think you should stay here.”

“Why?” she demanded:

He reached out, taking a moment to frame her face with his long, hard hands. “Because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop him in time. And I don’t want you to be in the line of fire, and I don’t want you to have to watch anyone shot ever again.”

She covered his hands with her own. “I have to, Tanner. Don’t you see, if we can stop him, it will somehow balance out what happened fifteen years ago. If we can keep it from happening again then the town has a chance of recovering.”

“Forget the town. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“There won’t be any future for me if it happens again,” she said bleakly. “Lonnie knew that—that’s why he didn’t bother to shoot me. If you go to stop him and fail, that means he’ll kill you, too. And there’s no life at all for me without you.”

He stared down at her for a long moment. And then he kissed her, long and hard and deep, sweeping her into his arms and holding her.

When he released her they were both breathless. “All right,” he said. “But keep down. And that goes for me too, you know. There’d be no life for me without you.”

The town of Morey’s Falls was mobbed. People had come from all the neighboring towns, the state and even some of the national media were out in full force, and the smell of roasting chicken hit Ellie’s stomach like a fist. Amid all the out-of-state cars it was hard to find Lonnie’s BMW, and when they finally discovered it abandoned in front of Pete’s Fireside Cafe the digital clock on the Morey’s Falls Bank and Trust read twelve-fifty-three—and eighty-five degrees.

Tanner slammed Maude’s old car to a halt behind the BMW. “Stay put,” he ordered. “He might be nearby.”

“The hell I will.” She’d already reached for the door handle when he leaned over and yanked her back.

“Stay put,” he said again. “Or I’ll drive you out of here and let the town of Morey’s Falls fend for itself.”

She knew he meant it. “All right,” she said. “But let me at least show you the back way up to the roof.”

“There’s no need. He’s not up there,” Tanner said flatly.

“How do you know?”

“See for yourself.”

Ellie peered out the windshield at the crowded park. A stage had been set up behind the draped monument, and a row of chairs held the town dignitaries. Doc was sitting there, dressed up and uncomfortable looking. The town council was firmly in place, and her own seat was empty. Beside it sat Lonnie Olafson, a raincoat covering his army uniform, a small package on his lap.

If people thought a man wearing a raincoat on a sunny warm day was slightly strange, they had other things occupying their minds. Ellie wanted to scream at them, but no sound came. “He doesn’t have the gun with him,” she said hoarsely. “Whatever it is he’s carrying, it’s too small to be a rifle.”

“An Uzi would fit very nicely in that box,” Tanner said grimly.

“An Uzi?”

“A very small, very deadly machine gun. He’ll make my father look like a piker if he gets a chance to set off that thing in this crowd.”

“Maybe it’s not...”

“You want to take any chances?” he countered.

“No,” said Ellie. “What are we going to do? There’s no way to sneak up behind them. If he sees you he’s bound to open fire.”

“I know.” His voice was flat, hopeless.

Ellie shivered in the hot air. “Then he’s going to have to be distracted.”

“No, Ellie.”

“Yes. He tried to shoot me before and he couldn’t. I don’t think he could now.”

“I’m not willing to take that chance,” said Tanner.

“If I draw his attention,” she continued, ignoring him, “you could sneak up on the other side.”

“No, Ellie,” he said again, reaching for the ignition.

It took just the time she needed. “Yes, Tanner.” And she was out of the car and heading for the park before he could grab her.

She didn’t dare look behind her. If she did she might alert Lonnie that there were two of them. She crossed the street, ignoring the traffic, ignoring the squeal of tires and angry shouts of the tourists, and stepped into the crowded town park.

At first no one noticed her. The coffee had dried on her pants, the fresh blood had caked on her sleeve. She knew she looked bruised, dirty and desperate, and she didn’t care. Fastening her gaze on Lonnie’s abstracted face, she headed for the stage.

People began to move aside for her. She could hear the murmur of conversation, the rumble of curiosity and hostility as she made her way toward the monolith. Suddenly Lonnie looked up, straight into her eyes, and his face paled.

His hands twitched, clutching the package, as he stared at her. His mouth was dry, and he licked his lips, watching, waiting, his hands reaching into the rumpled paper bag.

Her knee was throbbing, her body covered in a cold sweat, and still she moved ahead. The crowds around her began to quiet as they sensed something was going on. Finally there was only a hum of conversation, a final, stray laugh, and then absolute silence as Ellie neared the crude wooden platform.

As if in slow motion Lonnie rose. For a moment Ellie wondered whether Tanner had followed, or whether he’d started the car and driven away, leaving the town to their no doubt well-deserved fate. She watched Lonnie move toward her as if mesmerized, the raincoat falling open and revealing the old uniform, his hands deep inside the paperbag, pulling out something compact and metal and hideously deadly.

Tanner exploded across the stage with the grace and power of a hawk diving for his prey. Lonnie went down beneath him, the wicked gun flew out of his hands and went skidding across the stage to land at Doc’s feet, and the crowd erupted in noise and confusion.

She had expected more of a battle. Lonnie collapsed beneath Tanner’s body, weeping, kicking his feet like an angry child, sobbing and howling with frustrated rage. His screams of impotent fury were all too clear to the watching crowd, and as the reality of what they’d just been spared sank in, horror grew.

When Dave Martin finally appeared with two state police Lonnie was no threat to anyone. Tanner rolled off him, twisting Lonnie’s arm up behind his back to keep him docile, but there was no fight left in him. All he could do was weep.

Ellie stood at the edge of the stage, ignoring the noise and questions around her, ignoring the shivers that were still wracking her body, ignoring the hot, sweet dizziness of relief that threatened to collapse her legs beneath her. All she could see was Tanner.

He stood there, watching, as Dave and his men led Lonnie away. Doc was with them, talking in a low, soothing voice, and after a moment Tanner turned back, his eyes searching for her.

Pete Forrester was advancing on him, his burly arm outstretched in a welcoming handshake. Tanner didn’t even spare him a glance. He leaped off the stage, pulling Ellie into his arms, sheltering her trembling body against his, pushing her face into the protection of his shoulder, holding her. They stood like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the noise and crowds faded away, and there were only the two of them, healing each other.

“This town has a heap of healing to do,” said Maude. “Maybe now we can get on with it.”

It was early evening. The shadows were beginning to lengthen on that endless Fourth of July, but the sun wouldn’t set until after ten o’clock, and Tanner and Ellie had plenty of time left. All the time in the world.

They were sitting side by side on Maude’s porch swing, looking out over the landscape, the wide grasslands leading to the foothills, up into the jagged mountains where they’d first met.

“You think they have a chance?” Ellie questioned.

“I think so,” Maude said. “But then, I’m an optimist. I always think there’s hope. Even for poor Lonnie. The state hospital’s the best place for him. Someplace where he can’t hurt anybody.”

“If Pete Forrester can thank Tanner,” Ellie murmured, “then anything can happen.”

“Did he really?”

“He did,” Tanner said. “He told me I was welcome in his place anytime. I told him the best thing Ellie and I could do for Morey’s Falls was to get the hell out and never come back.”

“Never?” Maude’s voice quavered.

“Never,” Ellie echoed. “You’ll have to stir yourself and come visit us, Maude. Your great-grandchildren are going to grow up in New Mexico.”

“So is that devil horse of yours,” she snorted, looking pleased at the thought of progeny. “You sure you don’t want to wait and take him yourself?”

“Rafael Maderos will do a fine job bringing the horses down to us,” Tanner said. “I practically grew up with him, and I’d trust him with my life. More important, I’d trust him with my horses. Besides, he’ll be the one to drive you down to visit too; you might as well get used to him. And admit it, you’re going to miss Shaitan.”

“I’m going to miss you and Ellie, period,” she said flatly. “Poor Lonnie,” she added, for what was probably the twentieth time. “I’ll go bring us some more coffee.” The screen door bounced shut behind her spry figure.

“Poor Lonnie,” Ellie agreed. “I guess he just wanted someone to pay attention to him.”

“He’s got that all right,” Tanner said. “He’ll get all the attention and help he needs—the kind my father could have used.” There was no bitterness in his voice, only acceptance. Ellie looked over at him and smiled. The past had finally begun to release its stranglehold, on him, on her.

“You sure you’re not marrying me for my horses?” she asked lightly.

“Who said anything about marriage, woman?” he mocked.

“My children are going to be named Tanner,” she said firmly. “And the next time you get the urge to go walking, I’m going with you.”

“What about your leg?”

She grimaced. “You know as well as I do that once I’m away from Morey’s Falls I’ll hardly notice it. Don’t worry, I’ll be able to keep up with you.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’m going to need to be doing too much walking in the future,” he murmured, taking her hand and caressing the rope burns that still lingered on her narrow wrist. “Not if you’re certain you know what you’re doing.” The levity was gone from his voice, and his eyes were no longer icy as the north wind, they were the soft gray-blue of the fragrant sage around them.

“I’m certain,” she said. And she moved into his arms with the grace and sureness of the sun moving across the wide blue Montana sky, knowing she was home at last.