Or maybe she wasn’t the only one aware of...whatever it was. The fact that he’d almost called her amazing, then cut himself off. It wasn’t like he’d confessed his undying love. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her, like those moments characters in a movie had where they moved close and their lips parted and all of that ridiculousness.

Somehow it was more than that, though. The catch in his voice, the genuine admiration, even if he hadn’t finished his thought... It meant more to Elsie than all those things.

She hurried through the woods, eyes on Willow, willing herself to see something that could help them in their search for the missing woman. Noelle Mason, twenty-three. Orphan, no family. Worked in Anchorage at a community homelessness resource center, volunteered at elections, snowboarder, hiker.

The details made her more vivid in Elsie’s mind, less ethereal. This was a real human they were searching for, which was why it was so important not to let the search slack off at all, even if one’s search partner had dark eyes and a too-appealing five-o’clock shadow.

Willow sniffed at the air at their next decision point, where the trail split in two directions. Elsie waited as Willow considered her options, then seemed to catch just a hint of scent with her nose and took off toward the right.

“Is this a fast search or a slow one?” Wyatt asked as they kept following her.

“Most searches are over pretty quickly, statistically speaking. But here in Alaska it seems like we often get the searches that last for multiple days.”

“Just the terrain difference, you think?”

“That and maybe we have different categories of people getting lost? It’s really difficult to say.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, really.”

“Do you think...?” His voice trailed off. “I mean, she could still be alive.”

“Yes, definitely. It’s a good time of year to survive in some ways, dangerous in others. If she’s gotten rain-soaked or wet somehow, then hypothermia is a legitimate worry, even though it’s not necessarily cold outside. But if she’s managed to stay dry, this is definitely not too long.”

“And we don’t know if the shooter is still here. Do you think...? Is she connected to that?”

Elsie hadn’t managed to work that out.

How was the missing person connected to the people who appeared to be after Elsie? She had to admit that this seemed too big a coincidence for there not to be a connection.

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I wouldn’t know where to start coming up with ideas about something like that...” He trailed off. “It really might be time to talk to the police.”

“No.”

“The troopers, then.”

“Still no.”

“Elsie...”

“I told you, Wyatt, they’ll take me off the case and there’s no one else around here. She needs to be found.”

“She’s not the only one. You need to be able to find out what’s going on and move on without this shadow hanging over you and some kind of mysterious past hunting you down.”

“Hey, leave my past out of it.” Her voice was firm. Resolute. “This is my life and I don’t want them digging deeper into it.”

“Because you’re afraid of what they’ll find?”

“Absolutely yes.” She met his stare, looked back firmly, then directed her attention to the dog. “I don’t need someone else digging into a past I don’t know enough about myself.”

She read his hesitation and doubt in her plan, but so far he wasn’t convinced enough that she was wrong to go against her wishes, which she appreciated.

“How about we go over it tonight? When we’re back in town, when it’s too late to search for the day, let’s see if we can come up with some ideas.”

“That’ll mean me digging into your past, won’t it?”

That was different. Or was it? She could trust Wyatt, Elsie knew that.

She took a breath. “I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Hopefully it was a smart one, one that would lead to removing the threat against her and not one that would result in getting her heart broken.

With every step, she felt her sense of unease grow, but she didn’t think it had to do with Wyatt. Elsie mentally ran through lists of possibilities, finally realizing it was something about the way Willow was holding herself. She was still searching, very much at work, but something in the tilt of her ears said she was listening, too, and not just for any commands Elsie might give her.

What did she hear? Not their missing person, or she’d have alerted by now. A dog’s hearing was incredible, and so was their sense of smell.

“I don’t think we’re alone,” she whispered to Wyatt, wanting him to be prepared. She stopped, and he hesitated alongside her, close enough she could have reached out and touched him. She could feel him tensing, could feel it in herself as well.

EIGHT

Wyatt didn’t know how long they’d stood there, but after a short bit of time—two minutes? Ten?—Elsie blew out a breath and shook her head. “It’s gone now. I have no idea what she was hearing.”

More like who. Despite the troopers’ belief that the shooter had taken off, chances were high that they weren’t alone on the island, not even with the missing woman. Someone else was here, on the island with them.

They searched for hours, Wyatt doing his best to help Elsie where he could. He watched her, captivated by her work and the way she interacted with her dog, and finally started to feel like he was able to support her and not just follow along behind her.

For example, he’d started to notice the way her jaw would tighten. Sometimes because Willow had picked up a scent, or maybe lost it, and sometimes because she was hungry. He’d learned that if Willow needed something, food or water, Elsie was quick to stop, but she didn’t always take the time to take care of herself. Wyatt made it his mission to help her take care of herself as well, or at least let him take care of her.

She seemed to have forgiven him for his careless words earlier, for which he was thankful. He was still struggling to wrap his mind around what she’d told him about her own life and background. So Elsie had no family. At least, none that she knew of. That painted everything in a different light. Every time she’d come to his and Lindsay’s parents’ house for Thanksgiving after she’d turned eighteen...or worse, every time that she hadn’t... So then where had she gone, whom had she been with?

He thought of the way her cabin was so isolated, like that was what she expected out of life. She’d probably been alone.

As a teenager, he’d been annoyed by her. Wasn’t that practically a rule, to find your sister’s best friend annoying? He’d resented her presence at holiday functions because, after all, she wasn’t family.

Now he wasn’t sure he had even known what that word had meant back then. Because of course she was family. Lindsay was the closest thing to family that she had.

Wyatt noticed Elsie pulling ahead of him again and he picked up the pace, dodging around a spruce tree and narrowly avoiding being smacked in the face by one of its dark green branches. She was able to dodge in and out of trees as gracefully as if she’d been raised in the woods, and in some ways maybe she had.

He wasn’t being honest with himself, Wyatt knew. Sure, he’d been annoyed by her presence when he was younger, but wasn’t some of that because in addition to his stereotypical dislike of his sister’s friend...he’d also had a bit of a stereotypical attraction to her? She’d not been his type at all, but something about her drew him. Even then, he knew she was too good for him and it made him aggravated.

Adult Elsie was definitely too good for him, but adult Wyatt wished she weren’t, because he was thinking if he’d ever had a different type before, he’d been entirely wrong. How could anything be more attractive than a woman like Elsie—let’s be honest, Elsie, not just a woman like her—able to hike through the woods with more grace than a wild animal, brown hair tangling in curls behind her, petite and delicate but not afraid of anything, at least not that Wyatt could tell.

She was brave and smart and beautiful.

The shadows were lengthening by the time Elsie started to slow down. He hadn’t suggested they stop for hours, but was about to when she turned around and shook her head. “She lost the scent.”

“When?”

“Just now. Did you notice we slowed down a quarter mile back or so? I was trying to help Willow pick it up again.”