He had to keep playing it safe.

The mental picture of his sweater-vest-wearing pastor father, prepping for a sermon late at night in his armchair, came to mind.

Yes. That should be Wyatt’s goal. So certainly someone like Elsie who made his blood pressure skyrocket like this could only spell disaster for him. She brought color to his life. Feeling.

Maybe he couldn’t be trusted with feelings and color.

Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten involved.

Except then who would try to protect her? Fight for her even against herself?

This situation was hard for him to handle. He didn’t know how to do this.

But he’d sure rather be in this mess himself right now than be left with the knowledge that he’d abandoned her to face it alone.

From her seat, Elsie watched the play of emotions across Wyatt’s face, tried to read him like she’d read a K-9, though in her experience people were substantially harder to understand than dogs, even if she’d had extensive psychology training and education.

He was upset, she understood that part even without her degrees, but she wasn’t sure why he seemed angry.

Interestingly, she didn’t feel threatened by his anger. Something in the back of her mind usually recoiled at the emotion in general—she rarely got angry herself, as it just didn’t seem safe.

When she thought it, there was that dark place again, where she’d pictured her toddler self earlier. A cave? A closet?

People were yelling. That anger didn’t feel safe.

She swallowed hard, pulled herself out of the flashback before it could continue.

Wyatt’s expression wavered. His brows knit together. “What? What’s wrong now?”

Could he read her mind? More than once she’d been told she didn’t wear her emotions on her face, so what was with Wyatt’s almost uncanny ability to understand them?

“Nothing.” She shook her head, like that would make it true. Her earlier determination to be more honest with Wyatt felt like a two-by-four to the face. “I mean, something. A weird memory, sorry, random.” Elsie blew out a breath. “The man in the woods knew my name.” She restated it, trying to ground herself back in the present, process what was facing her right now, not what she’d faced in the past.

“But you don’t want to be taken off this case.”

“If the missing woman died, I’d never forgive myself.”

She saw the tightening of his jawline and reached over and laid a hand on his arm. “Hey, I hear what you’re saying. But there’s got to be a way for me to not back out of this and still stay reasonably safe.”

She was proud of herself for getting the words out, because she hadn’t counted on the distraction Wyatt’s arm would be under her hand. He was wearing a fleece, the perfect layering tool for this kind of wet, chilly weather, so it wasn’t as though her hand was even touching skin, but...

It was still enough to make it hard to focus on her thoughts. Still enough to make her hearken back to the ridiculous crush she’d had on him in high school, especially when coupled with that strange moment they’d just shared. She’d really thought he’d been about to kiss her. More than once she’d let her guard down with him, even though she didn’t do that with people, ever. And it hadn’t been as scary as she’d anticipated. What did that even mean? Elsie looked away, moved her hand slowly so it wouldn’t look as though touching him had affected her.

“Maybe.” He sounded doubtful, and if she wasn’t imagining things, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

Maybe she wasn’t the only one affected. Would that be good or bad?

In light of everything happening, almost certainly bad. Elsie couldn’t afford a distraction right now. Neither her personal nor professional life could.

Wyatt Chandler, six feet of gorgeous who would say something like I care to her and give every evidence of meaning it? He was a distraction.

Movement outside the plane caught her eye and her heart skipped. She nearly ducked for cover in case it was her would-be attacker, when she saw it was the two state troopers emerging from the woods at a jog. Responding to Wyatt’s radio call, she guessed.

Wyatt eased the door of the plane open and stepped out. Elsie followed, unwilling to let someone fight her battles for her, not even one that should be fairly easy, like explaining to the troopers that they’d heard a gunshot and threats uttered in the woods, while still leaving out details that made it clear she’d been targeted.

Okay, so not that easy of a battle. Maybe she was thankful to have someone on her side.

“Everything okay?” Trooper Holland asked, his gaze swinging from Elsie to Wyatt.

“Fine,” Elsie answered, deciding she should be the one to talk. “It appears there’s a bad actor somewhere in the woods. We heard a gun and a male voice. He said something threatening to me.”

The troopers exchanged a concerned look. Holland said, “What did he say?”

“It’s a bit of a jumble.” She made herself hold the man’s gaze so he didn’t sense she was hiding anything. And it was true—she didn’t remember the exact words...just the sentiment. Close enough. But technically not a lie. “Just something threatening. I didn’t stop to think about it. He started shooting, and we ran.”

Her heart pounded faster, but she was sure she was doing the right thing. Wyatt was willing to help her, after all. They could work together to find the missing woman and then worry about why someone was after her. If someone died because the troopers thought she was too close to the situation, she didn’t know how she’d ever move past that.

“Could you show us where the shots were fired? It’s an outside chance, but if we could find the casings, it could be useful evidence.”

Wyatt was looking at Elsie for guidance. Surprise and appreciation made her hold back a smile. He was a skilled pilot and Alaskan outdoorsman. He could answer their question, but he was looking to her to see what she said.

She nodded at the troopers. “I could lead you back there.”

“You’re sure?” Wyatt asked her, then looked at the troopers. “Is it safe enough?” His voice once again betrayed his genuine concern for her safety.

“It doesn’t seem reasonable that the person could be sitting there waiting,” Trooper Holland explained. “If we approach and it’s not safe to investigate, we’ll come back.”

Anxiety weighing heavier with each step, Elsie led them back through the woods. Earlier she’d been focused only on the job at hand, but now as they moved with stealth, she was taking in more of her surroundings. She wondered how similar these surroundings were to the island where she’d been found. Extremely so, from what she could remember. It wasn’t difficult to picture herself as a small child, hiding in the woods so much like these. She remembered being lost, remembered the nights she’d spent alone on that island, how scared the dark had made her...

Why couldn’t she remember what came before that? Her flashback in the plane had gone into more detail than she remembered ever feeling or imagining before. The darkness and sense of discomfort, fear—that was familiar to her. But the yelling she could now remember hearing? That was new. What else would she remember if she let herself? And were these memories finally resurfacing because of the island?

All her life, through family tree school projects and health history forms, Elsie had thought she’d wanted to know who she was, where she’d come from.

What happened if those answers weren’t what she wanted them to be? Did she still want to know?

A rustle in the branches stopped her short, caught her breath.

Wyatt’s voice was low and steady in her ears. “Just a bird. You’re doing okay.”

It shouldn’t have calmed her as much as it did, but she felt the tension leave her shoulders and she took a long breath in and out.

Elsie sensed the tension in Willow as they approached the location where the shots had been fired. She had taken the dog’s vest off to let Willow know they weren’t searching anymore officially, but her natural instincts still had her smelling the air for lingering scent. She clearly didn’t understand why they’d be returning to an unsafe place.

“Around here,” she finally said when they’d reached the spot. “I heard him talk somewhere over there.” She motioned. “And then he started shooting.” Chills threatened again, and she rubbed her arms almost without realizing it.

Trooper Holland seemed to notice her discomfort. With a glance at his partner, he spoke up. “This isn’t conventional, but maybe the two of you should head back to the cover of the plane.”

His partner nodded in agreement.