* * *

  Elsie hadn’t been to town in a bit longer than she’d remembered, so rather than a grand celebration feast, they shared part of a box of Cheez-Its, some beef jerky, celery and an apple. But Elsie didn’t remember when she’d been happier. Her and Wyatt. Who would have guessed?

  Part of her was still terrified. Not because of Wyatt—he’d proved himself trustworthy over and over during this case. He cared about her more than Elsie could ever remember anyone caring, but...

  Didn’t that give him the power to hurt her? And could he really love her if her past always stayed a secret? Would he know who she was if she didn’t fully know?

  Or did she not need to know about her past to fully know herself?

  The questions plagued Elsie. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but it had been worth it to find what looked to be the start of a relationship she would never have seen coming.

  A fresh wave of optimism hit her. Maybe she would never know who she had been, but you didn’t need to know your entire past before you could pursue your future. Wyatt was the future. Watching him, talking to him, wishing he would press his lips to hers again...

  “What are you thinking over there?” he asked from his place on the couch beside her.

  Elsie shrugged. “Just thinking about you.”

  “Me, too, about you.” They rested in silence for a moment longer.

  Then she said, “But...I’m also thinking about who was behind these attacks. Do you really think a senator would hire a contract killer?”

  “Travis Cattleman. Sounds like a fake name.” Wyatt made a face.

  She snorted. “Do you think maybe I was in the way of his career somehow? I mean, think about it. I was three when someone tried to make me disappear the first time.”

  He immediately seemed to understand what she was implying. “Just the right age to be the proverbial skeleton in someone’s closet.”

  “Or maybe it was some kind of political power move. Maybe I’m related to someone who opposed him and it was revenge? Or I was supposed to be a bargaining chip?”

  “Any of those make sense.”

  It hurt that they would never know. Maybe she was just supposed to learn to live with uncertainty. Was that what she was supposed to have learned from this entire situation?

  “I wish you could have found out.”

  Even though she hadn’t put it into words, Wyatt understood. He saw her feelings and considered them in a way no one else ever had.

  She looked over at him, nerves jumping in her stomach. What now where Wyatt was concerned? He’d said he was falling in love with her, but that had been during high stress, out of their real world. What about now? Would he feel differently back in town, with their lives and jobs always crowding in and likely reminding them how different they were?

  Nerves humming, she angled herself to face him a little more. “Thank you for caring.”

  “You make it easy to.”

  “Should we play cards? Go for a walk?” Elsie laughed self-consciously. “I’m not really used to having visitors.”

  “I just want to be here with you,” he said, his voice deep, his eyes steady.

  “I could get used to you being here for me,” she admitted.

  She saw something spark in his eyes as he heard her words.

  Then Wyatt slid from the couch.

  Got down on one knee.

  Panic rose in her chest.

  “Elsie, would you marry me?”

  She stared, as a roar in her ears intensified. What...was he doing? Proposing? Really? Now?

  “Wyatt, stop, no. Get up.”

  “I love you.”

  “You don’t even know me! Get. Up!”

  She was yelling now, and Elsie hated herself for it, but what had he been thinking? One second everything had seemed perfect and now...it felt like it was falling apart. Why did this happen to her? More importantly, why had she thought that she, a person who was used to being alone, could change and be anything but alone for the rest of her life?

  FIFTEEN

  She was pulling away. That was all Wyatt could think as he felt the ache in his knees, stood from his impulsive kneeling position and then sat back down on the couch.

  That wasn’t how he had envisioned this at all. Wyatt had messed up. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. After all this time of being patient, waiting to fall in love till he’d found the right person, he’d rushed once that had happened. Elsie was right for him. He was convinced of that.

  “I, um.” He cleared his throat, wishing he could fast-forward through the awkwardness. “I’m sorry about that, I guess?”

  “Don’t...apologize.” She stood up, started to walk around the room. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way he found adorable. “You just don’t even know me, Wyatt.”

  He bristled. “Yeah, I think I do.”

  She shook her head. “It’s been what, a week?”

  “We’ve known each other for decades.”

  “We’ve known of each other,” she corrected him. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “What else is there to know, after everything we’ve been through together?”

  At the moment, her expression didn’t indicate any kind of positive emotion toward him. But hadn’t they been kissing less than ten minutes ago? Had she told him she was falling for him, too?

  Wyatt wanted to leave. The desire revealed something about his nature he didn’t particularly like. The old him walked away when things got difficult, and he didn’t want to be that guy. He wanted to be the kind of guy who could stick around through everything and work it out.

  Besides, last time he’d left Elsie’s house to process alone, she’d ended up being dragged through the woods. While the threat against her appeared to be gone, he still wasn’t willing to take the risk.

  She’d been choosing her words carefully. She said, “There’s so much more to someone than you can learn in just a few days. I want to be really known like that, not just have someone know a little bit about me and be attracted to me.”

  Of course she did. He heard what she wasn’t saying. Her entire life she’d wanted someone to really know her, and who she was, and he’d messed up.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t take the proposal back.”

  She stopped pacing. “I think you need to go.”

  His heart dropped. “Don’t, please. Let’s talk about it. I don’t want to run away from you, Elsie.”

  Her eyes betrayed no emotion, but she was shaking her head. “Just go.”

  It was the last thing Wyatt wanted to do. But he was trying to be a gentleman. She’d told him twice now, so he didn’t feel like he had a choice.

  Breathing a quick prayer for her safety, and for God to do something with the mess he’d made of things, he opened her door, then shut it behind him.

  Why couldn’t he have asked her on a date? Or told her she was beautiful? Or given her chocolate or a puppy? Anything to show his growing affection that wasn’t a proposal would have been better. He saw that now.

  Wyatt exhaled deeply, squeezed his eyes shut.

  And wondered if she’d ever give him—give them—a second chance.

  * * *

  It was strange, the way she almost felt like they’d come full circle. Elsie was in her bed again, sleepy but sleepless, unable to rest. Just like she had been before everything had happened. The man who broke into her house, the new search...Wyatt...

  What had she done?

  Earlier, she had been so sure that her decision had been the right one. It was better to chase Wyatt away if he didn’t really know her than to risk him becoming disappointed when he realized she wasn’t what he thought, right?

  Apparently not right, because Elsie was miserable. Willow was annoyed with her and had already moved from her comfy spot on the end of the bed, where she’d been curled up on the blanket that usually stayed folded at the end, down to the floor, where Elsie’s restlessness wouldn’t wake her.

  Night had finally fallen in the woods, the dim sky outside her bedroom a beautiful shade of twilight blue. She hadn’t shut her curtains tonight, and she could see the dark silhouettes of the spruce trees that surrounded her cabin.

  Everything was peaceful, as it should be. Willow showed no evidence that any sense of danger was anywhere nearby.

  This wasn’t at all related to her safety or to the events of the last few weeks. This was only related to Wyatt Chandler. The man whose heart she’d stomped on earlier.

  And what about her own heart? Her life alone had been fine. Actually, it had been lovely. She loved being out in the woods, the freedom she had as a single woman to decide when she came and went, the way she was able to pursue her job. Yet she missed Wyatt.

  The man himself, for who he really was.

  Was it possible she could have been wrong? Did he know her better than she’d thought? Maybe there could be a way to fix this.

  Morning would be the ideal time to figure that out. Surely she could go to his house, apologize, explain...

  Then what? She still didn’t think the proposal was a good idea. But the way to change how little they knew each other was...to get to know each other. They could do that.

  He’d said he loved her, and she did believe him. And then she’d sent him away, angry.

  Probably no matter how much she tried to sleep tonight, she was going to keep chasing this thought, like a butterfly she could see but never catch, always off in the distance just out of reach. Her brain just wouldn’t stop, trying to work this out, which to her truly seemed unfixable.

  She gave up on sleep somewhere in the middle of the night, before the light had started to come back, just at the darkest point, and grabbed her light jacket.

  Willow looked up at her, eyebrows rising.

  “I have to talk to him,” she told the dog. “I think I’m falling in love with him, too. I think it scared me. I think...” She heard her voice waver, felt the lump in her own throat grow. “I think maybe I don’t know how to do this.”

  Willow stood, walked toward her.

  “You’re coming, too, huh? Wouldn’t dream of leaving you.”

  This was it, Elsie thought as she pulled on her boots and locked the door of the cabin behind her. She stood outside for a second, letting her eyes acclimate to the dimness. The moon was bright enough there was no need for a flashlight, but the shadows outside did take some getting used to. At least now there was no need to startle at the shadows. Troopers were investigating the cause of the plane crash, but if all their suspicions had been correct, she should be safe now.

  She felt safe, too, all the way to her boat and across the bay. The ocean was calm tonight, accepting, it seemed, of her desire for safe passage to town, not fighting her in the least.

  Was that what it would be like when she talked to Wyatt? Would everything go more smoothly when she stopped fighting against her feelings and her anxiety about not being in control, about not being sure whether or not she’d be any good at being in a relationship?

  They’d both been right last night, Elsie thought. She’d said he didn’t know her well and he didn’t. But maybe Wyatt had been right, too, that he knew her anyway.

  She wouldn’t know for sure until she could talk to him, see his eyes. She was ready to take a leap of faith, to take a risk. But she wanted to talk to Wyatt first. Even now her heart was hesitant. Afraid.

  Elsie hated being afraid.

  She docked the boat at Destruction Point’s marina. Remembering where Wyatt’s house was, she walked toward it, Willow trotting along beside her.

  When she reached his house, it was dark. Not surprising, as it was late. But...Wyatt’s front door was wide open.

  Her heartbeat started to pound in her chest, fear seemed to weight her legs, but she propelled herself forward anyway, wishing she had some kind of weapon with her, just in case someone was waiting for her, someone who wasn’t Wyatt.

  Eyeing the door, practically willing Wyatt to walk out of it unharmed, Elsie pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed 911.

  “Wyatt Chandler’s house has been broken into. His front door was left open and I’m afraid someone took him.”

  “Location, please?”

  “I don’t know his address.” Frantic, she looked around for the 911 numbers that even a small community like Destruction Point had. She finally found them, on the side of the mailbox, and read them aloud to the dispatcher. She quickly filled the dispatcher in about Wyatt’s last known whereabouts.

  “We’ll be there within five minutes.”

  “I’m search and rescue,” Elsie said. “My dog and I are on the way to find him now.”

  Elsie hung up. Five minutes.

  She hurried inside the house. “Wyatt?” The first room, a living room connected to a small kitchen, was empty. It was neat, with very little evidence he’d even been home.

  The next room was an office, with papers and folders everywhere, but still fairly neat. No one had ransacked this place. They weren’t searching for anything and, Elsie thought, they didn’t seem angry. This felt more intentional.

  Chills chased down her spine. Was it a trap? For her?

  Wyatt would tell her to go home, that the risk wasn’t worth it, but as her search continued to reveal too little as to his whereabouts, Elsie started to feel more and more strongly that to leave was exactly what she couldn’t do. Not now. If Wyatt was in trouble, then it was because of her. She couldn’t abandon him now when he’d been so determined not to leave her alone with all of her troubles. She could feel the tension in Willow building as the two of them walked through the house together.

  There was one more room she and Willow still hadn’t searched. His bedroom door was closed and Elsie felt like she was violating his privacy by going in there, but at the same time, she didn’t have a choice but to search it, too.

  She reached for the door. Knocked. “Wyatt?”

  No reply, but she did hear something. A scuffling. At her feet, Willow whined.

  She knocked again. “Wyatt?”

  When there was still nothing, she eased the door open. Willow charged in, a blur of brown moved toward them, and before she could react, Elsie saw Willow, her bright white fur pouncing around the room with a brown malamute mix that she knew had to be Sven, Wyatt’s dog. He dwarfed Willow, but he seemed friendly, though obviously disturbed.

  “You okay, bud?”

  Elsie reached to pet the dog, then started to look around the room. Maybe Sven was the world’s friendliest dog, a definite possibility, but he acted as though he hadn’t seen anyone in hours. She searched the room, and not finding any clues, she shut the dog back in the bedroom.

  Strange he would have been shut in there, rather than in the nice kennel she’d seen in the living room. That one was a brand she’d long envied but hadn’t quite gotten to spending money on yet. It didn’t make sense that Wyatt would have left the dog closed up in the room.

  The intruder, then? That made more sense.

  Where were his food and water bowls?

  Finally, she found them in a little nook off the kitchen, near a storage closet, which she checked and found empty of anything alarming.

  The food bowl was empty. That much, she’d expected. A dog didn’t get to the size Sven was without a healthy love of food.

  The water bowl surprised her. Dry. Entirely. Elsie filled both bowls, her heart pounding as she put the pieces together.

  If Wyatt had come home, he’d have taken care of his dog.

  The door was open. But was it possible someone had come here to find Wyatt and discovered he wasn’t home? Then...what?

  Waited for him?

  Elsie texted Lindsay, asking if she knew where her brother was. Her friend answered almost immediately. She did not.

  Anxiety flooded through her. As though she didn’t already feel awful enough about the way they’d left things last night, now she could imagine him leaving her cabin, walking through the woods...getting attacked where? His boat was gone, but she hadn’t looked in town to see if it was in its regular slip.

  He could be anywhere.

  And the police would be here any minute, and if she got caught up in talking to them, her opportunity to try to find him using Willow to search would be gone.

  She scrawled a note on a paper towel, explained that Wyatt might be in danger due to the events they’d been investigating, and wrote her phone number. They could call her later.

  Right now? She had someone to find.

  * * *

  Wyatt’s head throbbed, the thrum of pain the first thing he noticed when he regained consciousness. He remembered leaving Elsie’s, remembered their fight, and then things started to get blurred in his mind, the throbbing somehow hammering away at his memory.

  Elsie was safe... Wasn’t she? As far as he remembered, she was, though that was no great reassurance with as questionable as his memory seemed right now.

  He sat up, noting the crushing of spruce boughs underneath him. He was somewhere on the forest floor and the sky told him it was the middle of the night. There was enough light that he’d be able to find his way around without a flashlight, but not so much that he could see anything very well.

  No one approached when he sat up, though Wyatt didn’t know if that was because he’d succeeded in moving quietly, or because no one was here waiting for him to wake up.

  He rubbed his forehead, wishing he had access to pain medicine. It was difficult to think against the pain. Everything felt more difficult, and thoughts didn’t come as quickly as he felt they should. Once again, he tried to make his mind cooperate, and to walk through what he remembered.

  Taking a deep breath, then letting it out, he tried to get his bearings. In the distance he heard...something. Voices?

 

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