He heard her desperation and wondered if she realized the words she left unsaid, that she knew what it was like to be lost and without much of a hope of rescue.
He felt that way sometimes about his faith. There was a verse about that somewhere in the Bible, about being lost and without hope. He’d certainly felt that way once.
“Why do you focus so much on that, wanting people to not stay lost?” he finally found the courage to ask. He didn’t have the right to expect an answer, but he found himself hoping that she would stop holding him at arm’s length.
Eyes wide, she was almost looking at him like he’d lost his marbles for asking.
“Okay, yes, obviously you don’t want them to stay lost because you’re a good person,” he clarified, “but it seems to mean even more to you. Is it because of the fact that you were...”
“Lost?” She said it without hesitation, even though the word applied to Elsie made Wyatt flinch.
“Yeah.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Yes, probably. I know what it’s like to be lost, to wonder if anyone is going to find you, see you, if you even matter enough for people to search for.”
He could still read the guardedness in her eyes, and Wyatt knew when not to push.
“I hate that you went through that,” Wyatt said, though it seemed inadequate.
Another few beats of silence.
“Thank you for not apologizing for it. I hate it when people do that.” She looked away and Wyatt knew that was all she had in her to share emotionally at the moment.
Thank You that she trusted me. He whispered a quick prayer in his heart.
“I have to find her,” she reiterated, jaw set.
“Listen, I hear you,” he said, “but your safety...” He wished he could reach out to her, touch her arm, her shoulder, just something to convey that he wanted her to be okay, to keep her safe. But she wasn’t his to touch. She’d shy away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted, especially when it seemed like she was starting to trust him, however slightly.
“My safety is going to be in jeopardy no matter where I am. It does seem like they’re after me specifically. He called my name. When he said he’d been searching for me the other night, I—”
Panic rising in his throat, Wyatt cut her off. “What?”
She didn’t answer.
“You let me think there was a chance this was random, though that was hard to swallow, when all along you knew that whoever broke into your house specifically knew who you were?”
Elsie looked out the window to her right, avoiding eye contact.
She’d proved just over the last few hours that she was extremely smart, reading Willow’s silent cues in a way that had amazed him. So how could she be so careless with her own safety? She was heroic, sure, but did she view her life as worth so little?
“You’re worth keeping safe, too. You know that, right?” he asked.
The question took her off guard enough that she turned and looked at him, a frown scrunching her eyebrows together. “What are you talking about?”
“You act like only other people matter. That you’re just...possible collateral damage if something happens to you when you’re on a search. You matter more than that.”
“I would never intentionally step into a situation with too much risk, Wyatt. They teach us in search and rescue training.” Now her voice had an edge to it, a bite he wouldn’t have thought her capable of. He was seeing a new side to Elsie. She was small, quiet. But she wasn’t a pushover, he was seeing now.
“Maybe not, but you’re putting yourself at risk now and you just don’t seem concerned.” His frustration escalated and he contracted his muscles and released the tension, trying to let go of the physical effects of being upset. At home he’d take Sven for a run or do push-ups if something upset him this much, though he couldn’t remember the last time something had.
“I’m not... I’m not trying to do that.” She was frustrated, too. He could hear it in her tone. When she finally shifted in her seat to fully look at him, he could see the hurt in her eyes.
Talk to me. He met her gaze. Stayed still.
“I’m not used to anyone caring,” she finally said, looking down. A stray lock of hair fell into her face.
Without thinking, Wyatt reached forward and pushed it back, and as he did so, Elsie lifted her head again. He realized how close they were now, their faces closer than they’d ever been. Twelve inches? Ten?
He could kiss her.
The thought came from out of nowhere, but his eyes dropped to her lips and then he glanced back up.
Something shifted in her gaze. She’d seen him consider it. She wasn’t backing away.
Kissing her wasn’t what was best for her right now. For either of them. She didn’t need to know that she mattered in the context of a romantic relationship. She needed to know that she mattered. Full stop. A kiss could weaken that message, one he wanted her to hear. Elsie mattered to him too much to kiss right now, strange as that thought was.
“I care,” he whispered.
She blinked, almost like she was absorbing the message, letting it soak into her. Believing it?
When she finally looked away, he felt bereft. But also strangely hopeful. She hadn’t argued with him, hadn’t flinched at his admission that he cared about her.
Elsie had gotten under his skin. He didn’t know what to think about it. Wasn’t sure he liked it.
It would be easy to wonder why he’d volunteered to help. He didn’t need this kind of frustration in his life, not when he was trying to start over, live better. Stay peaceful and boring and all of that, like he felt a good Christian maybe should. Heaven knew, quite literally, that he’d had enough excitement in his teens and twenties to last a lifetime. Flying was enough of an adrenaline rush. He should be pursuing other things in his life that kept him calm. Steady.
Right? He’d been a different man for five years now, but was five years really enough time to trust that he’d actually changed? Wyatt didn’t want to risk it, didn’t want to turn back into who he’d been before.
