She spotted a flash of red clothing zigzagging through the trees and her pulse ticked up a few notches. Tossing the bedraggled bouquet over the porch railing into the dirt, she backed up to her front door and stumbled over the threshold. The screen door slammed and she reached for the door handle.

A woman’s voice sang out, “How are you today, Julia?”

Julia peered through the mesh of the screen door, releasing her pent-up breath. Gracie Malone, the town gossip, leaned over her garden fence, waving.

Julia would be damned if she’d have Gracie spreading stories about how she scampered inside her house the minute she saw someone in her front yard.

“I’m just fine, Gracie. Out for an early morning walk?” She shoved the screen door open and wedged her shoulder on the doorjamb.

“Yes, and you? Are you and that adorable little girl of yours going for a hike this morning?” Gracie’s bright little eyes, like black buttons, flickered from the beribboned flowers on the ground to Julia’s face.

“I’m packing up right now.” Or she had been until she noticed the scraggly posies on the porch railing.

“It’s such a shame Shelby doesn’t have a father.” Gracie shook her head back and forth in an exaggerated fashion, her tight gray curls quivering. She tapped her chin. “Charlie’s still sweet on you. We have a lot of room in that old Victorian, you know, even with the B and B.”

Julia knew Gracie desperately wanted to marry off her only son so she could have more people in the house to boss around and someone to help out with the guests. So desperate she’d saddle her only son with the town freak.

“We’re going to get ready for that hike now. You have a good day.” Julia left the front door open, settling on locking the screen door. She had more to fear from Gracie Malone and her dull son than some secret admirer. Could that secret admirer be Charlie?

“Mama?” Shelby padded out of her bedroom rubbing her eyes with bunched-up fists.

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re going on a hike this morning.” She scooped Shelby into her arms and buried her face in her neck, inhaling the sweet fragrance of watermelon shampoo from her hair. At four, Shelby no longer had that pure baby smell, but new, interesting smells were replacing it. Little girl smells.

Shelby giggled as Julia found her ticklish spot along her collarbone. “I’ll help you get dressed.”

Twenty minutes later, Julia swung the backpack over her shoulder and locked the front door behind her. Crushing the crumpled flowers into the dirt with her heel, she took Shelby ’s hand and headed toward the road.

From Silverhill’s main street, they picked up the entrance to the mile-long trail that wound its way into the foothills. The trail followed a soft slope, skirting outcroppings of rock and spreading into fields of wildflowers and gentle streams-a perfect outing for a four-year-old and a woman still fighting to regain emotional stability.

Spring had come early to the Rockies and summer was hot on its heels. The early morning sun warmed Julia’s face. Shelby slowed the pace by picking up stones, snatching flowers from the rock crevices and veering off the path to chase butterflies.

“Ouch!” A rock bit into Julia’s heel. When she stopped to slip off her shoe, Shelby zipped around the next bend. Holding her sneaker, Julia hobbled after her.

“ Shelby?” She rounded the corner, but Shelby had disappeared. A swath of anxiety settled on her skin as her gaze raked through the thick patch of trees. Julia plowed forward, rubbing her arms. “ Shelby, come back or we’re going home right now.”

Her mischievous daughter crawled out from behind a log, pinching a worm between two fingers.

“Okay, you can drop that right there.” Julia held up her hands, wrinkling her nose at her tomboy daughter.

Shelby placed the worm on the log and waved to it before returning to Julia’s side. She grabbed Shelby ’s wrist and marched her back to the trail. “Stay with me now.”

When they got back to the path, a small rock tumbled from above. Glancing up, Julia glimpsed a shadow passing across the face of the cliff. She called out, “Hello?”

A tree rustled and a branch snapped, sending a bird screeching into the sky. She glanced back at the sandy-colored cliffs, tightening her grip on Shelby ’s wrist. Cupping a hand over her mouth, she breathed in and out slowly to steady her galloping heart. She thought she’d put those panic attacks behind her, but a few crackling twigs and falling rocks could still bring on a racing heart and shallow breathing.

“Run, Mama.” Shelby slid out of Julia’s clammy grasp and skipped ahead, landing face-down in a patch of bluebells.

“ Shelby!” Julia tripped after her, sinking to her knees in the flowers.

Shelby rolled onto her back, covering her face with two small dirty hands. She peeked through her fingers and giggled. A surge of warm relief melted Julia’s rigid muscles and she kissed Shelby ’s butterscotch curls.

“Silly girl. You scared me.”

“Mama scared?” Shelby sat up, scooping a handful of bluebells in her fist and dropping them into Julia’s lap.

Julia peered into the shadows and crevices of the rocks and shook her head. “No, I’m not scared…anymore.”

The fear that had enveloped her when she first found herself in Silverhill had dissipated over the past four years, driven away by friendly neighbors, soothing words and warm suppers. But sometimes it descended on her with no warning, dropping like an anvil in the middle of the night or silently stealing over her, one uneasy moment at a time. Like today.

She twisted her head over her shoulder to study the trail she and Shelby had just traversed. A sense of doom dogged her on the hike, a feeling of being watched and followed. It started with the stranger in the car and picked up with the flowers left on her porch two days ago and then again today. Most women would be thrilled with a secret admirer. She wasn’t most women.

The flowers could’ve come from a neighbor. Julia massaged her temples. And she didn’t own this trail. Locals and tourists alike took the mile hike up to the rock formations known as “The Twirling Ballerinas.” Anyone could’ve been hiking behind them.

Why didn’t they answer when she called out?

Julia cradled the bluebells in her palms and buried her face in their fresh fragrance. Too bad the flowers weren’t forget-me-nots.

Maybe then she could remember who she was, remember Shelby ’s father, and remember what shadowy menace stalked her.

Shelby ’s hands, smelling of moist dirt, pulled at Julia’s fingers. “Peekaboo.”

Smiling, Julia spread her fingers wide. “Peekaboo to you.”

Whatever happened in her past, it brought Shelby into her life so it couldn’t have been all doom and gloom. Her daughter’s laughter acted like a ray of sunshine capable of piercing the solid block of ice, which was all that remained of Julia’s memory despite Dr. Jim Brody’s best efforts.

Shelby shrieked, “No, peekaboo to you.”

“Can anyone play this game?”

Gasping, Julia dropped her hands and pulled Shelby against her body before the intruder’s voice registered. Shelby squirmed in her arms, and Julia loosened her grip as Clem Stoker came into view, his shaggy gray eyebrows drawn together over his nose.

Shelby scampered toward Clem and threw her arms around his legs. “Uncle Clem.”

Julia swallowed the lump in her throat. Of course Clem wasn’t Shelby ’s uncle. Shelby didn’t have an uncle or a family or a father, at least none that Julia could remember, but Clem treated them like family as did many of the residents of Silverhill after Julia’s accident.

“How’s my buttercup?” He lifted her up in the air and swung her around, shifting his gaze to Julia. “Are you okay, Julia? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. Just when the residents of Silverhill had stopped tiptoeing on eggshells around her, she had to jump at rustling leaves. “Did you just come up the trail behind us?”