Page 126 of Heartland

Holding my breath, I turn the doorknob.

It doesn’t move.

Okay, this is a setback I did not expect. I raise my knuckles and tap as lightly as possible.

Nothing. He’s sleeping. Of course he is.

But I’ve come this far, and I remember him telling me how easy it is to pop the lock. I fish my wallet out of my coat pocket, remove my ATM card, and slide it between the door and the frame.

The lock pops immediately, and the door swings open.

I step inside the room, where moonlight casts shadows across the bed. Dylan is sleeping curled up on his side, which is not like him. I take a step forward to peer a little more closely at him.

That’s when he rolls, leaps to his feet—arms outstretched for battle—and lets out a blood-curdling shout.

And I shriek like I’m starring inNight of the Living Dead.

Then several things happen very fast. First, I realize it’s not Dylan on that bed. It’s Rickie. I’d forgotten all about Rickie.

Second, the doorway behind us begins to fill with faces. So many faces. Daphne’s, followed by Ruth’s. And then Alec’s and May’s.

“What’s happening?” someone gasps. The lights flip on.

“Chastity?” Ruth says sleepily.

Rickie gapes at me. Then he drops back onto the bed and puts a hand over his chest. “Holy crap. Did you just pop the lock on the door?”

“I—” My heart is in my mouth, and it’s just dawning on me that this is going to be very embarrassing. “Where’s Dylan?”

Daphne laughs. “In the bunkhouse. Is he expecting you?”

“Uh…” My face begins to heat. “Not really. I just...” …havenoexplanation for why I’m here.

“So this is just a booty call gone wrong?” Alec asks. “When I snuck into May’s bedroom I was way quieter.”

“Don’t brag, sweetie,” May says. “We can’t all be born for mischief. Night, everyone.”

“Later,” Alec says. “The fifth stair from the bottom squeaks, by the way. For next time.”

“And honey, watch out for the bunkhouse stoop,” Mrs. Shipley adds. “It’s made of granite and always gets icy.”

“I…” I swallow hard. “Okay. Sorry.”

She yawns and walks away. Daphne also melts into the shadows of the upstairs hallway, snickering as she goes.

That leaves me alone with Rickie. “Hit the light switch?” he says.

I flip if off. He lays back down and sighs. “Took a year off my life there, Chass. I actually punched the last person who snuck up on me while I was sleeping.”

“I’m really sorry,” I whisper. “I had no idea you’d be in here.”

“S’okay,” he says, tucking his cheek against the pillow. “My heart rate should return to normal by New Year’s.”

“Goodnight,” I whisper. “Let me know how I can make it up to you.”

“Just don’t do that again.”

I retreat, closing the door. And then I hear Rickie get out of bed to lock it behind me.