Yeah, because it was his fault he could have gotten his own self killed trying to protect her from whoever had been trying to attack her.

She didn’t exactly seem grateful. Of course, to be fair, she hadn’t invited him here. He’d headed over himself with hardly thinking it through.

They hurried through the woods after the dog. She stayed in their line of sight, but it was still exhausting trying to keep up with the husky, who ran over roots and obstacles with grace while Wyatt found himself stumbling, exhaustion making him clumsier than usual.

Finally, the dog let out a howl, one that reverberated with a melancholy that reminded Wyatt more of a wolf than a dog.

“She lost the trail, too,” Elsie translated.

They hurried to her side, emerging from the shadows of the woods onto the beach that made up the other side of Destruction Point.

Wyatt moved closer to the water and thought he could make out marks in the beach. Footprints or boat prints—it was impossible to say with the texture of the sand. “He may have had a boat waiting. So he intentionally targeted you. This wasn’t a crime of opportunity or he’d have had a boat in front of your house somewhere.”

“It looks like that.” Her voice was flat. Frustrated. Fearful but not surprised.

That was what had caught him off guard earlier. With all the emotions he was picking up on, surprise wasn’t one of them.

Shouldn’t it be?

“Were you expecting someone to come after you?”

She was looking off into the mist, into the darkness. Somehow it seemed to him as if she was part of the darkness. Wyatt felt a shiver run down his spine.

“I don’t know that I’d say I was expecting it...”

“That’s the second time you’ve talked to me in riddles tonight, Montgomery.” In high school, he’d called her by her last name because it seemed to annoy her. It did the trick and got her attention now. She turned to him with a frown, stormy gray-green eyes flashing.

At least he’d drawn some kind of anger out of her. Someone who was attacked in her own home with no warning should be angry. Wyatt was angry. Elsie seemed afraid, sure, but mostly she seemed resigned.

Like it was inevitable. He didn’t understand.

She let out a breath. “Come on. Let’s go back to my cabin. If you want, I’ll make you a cup of coffee and give you the best explanation I’ve got. Seems like the least I can do.”

It wasn’t quite a heartfelt declaration of thanks for coming to her rescue, but it was something. Considering their relationship had never been smooth, normal or one of mutual caring, it was probably the best Wyatt could hope for.

“Sounds good. Lead the way.”

She turned and headed back into the woods, seeming to be more at home in the dark on these trails than most people would have been in the day.

She feared the person who’d come after her, but not the dark. Not the wilderness.

Elsie Montgomery was stronger than he’d realized. She may not be the person he’d thought she was after all.

He’d complained his whole life that people judged him without knowing him. At some point, he’d gotten tired of trying to be better and let himself become the person they imagined. It was who he was even now, when he knew this wasn’t who he wanted to be.

What about Elsie? Who was she?

TWO

Knowing Wyatt had been inside her house was almost as strange as having someone break into it without her permission. At least her would-be attacker wasn’t someone she would ever see again. Or she hoped not. Wyatt was in and out of her life in at least a casual way because of their connection to Lindsay. She usually saw him during holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, but the two of them made it a point to avoid each other.

Even though he wasn’t someone whose opinion Elsie would have said mattered to her...he apparently was, because she found herself wondering what he thought about the small cabin. Most people wouldn’t be impressed, with its small size and simple layout, but it was her refuge.

What would Wyatt think of it? And of her? Lindsay had said more than once that the cabin was a reflection of who she was as a person. Minimalistic, but warm and cozy. Simple, but with unexpected details.

The front door opened into the main area, which was warm with the wood tones of the walls. A small kitchen sat in one corner, and opposite that was a stone fireplace, with stones that reached for the vaulted ceiling. Initially the cabin had had a low roof that was sinking in and needed to be replaced, and Elsie had wanted as much of a natural feeling to the cabin as possible. It was earthy and comfortable. Traditional. And it was the only home Elsie had ever had that was worthy of the word.

“Coffee?” she offered, and Wyatt nodded, saying nothing as he looked around. Elsie busied herself with the coffee maker to avoid seeing his reaction to the space.

“Cream? Sugar?” she asked.

“Sugar would be great. I used to drink it black, ’cause I figured that was the manly thing to do. Hated the stuff.” Wyatt laughed at himself. He had a different laugh from what she remembered. Easy and a little self-deprecating. Looking up, Elsie watched him as he walked toward the fireplace, then took in the built-in bookshelves against one wall, the cozy chair she’d situated in the corner for the best views. He looked so large in her cabin. She’d forgotten how tall he was. Over six feet, maybe by a couple of inches.

“I like your place,” he said at last. “It feels like a home.”

A spark caught in her heart at the word home. Exactly what she’d been going for, since it was all she’d ever really longed for. The compliment made her chest warm, her heart skip a little. Only because of the way it complimented her, not at all because the implication was that if he liked her house, then...

He must like who she was, too?

No, that would be silly, and she was a grown woman, not really given to silliness. There was no time for it. There were too many people to find.

Or was she avoiding finding herself, facing herself?

Too deep for tonight. Elsie shoved the thought back and yanked the carafe out, even though the coffee hadn’t finished brewing, realizing as she did so that she hadn’t responded to Wyatt’s compliment.

“Um, thanks. I really like it here.”

Yeah, that was brilliant. Strange that she didn’t have people over more often, with stunning displays of wit like that.

She added sugar to the coffee, something that made her smile a little. She’d definitely have pegged Wyatt as a black-coffee kind of guy, all swagger and projected toughness, but the longer she was around him, the less he seemed like the guy she’d known in high school. Or thought she’d known.

“Here you go,” she offered, holding out a pottery mug to him.

“Thanks.”

She took her own coffee, made with a splash of half-and-half and no sugar, and motioned to the small table by the side window. “Have a seat.”

Normally, she found the darkness outside beautiful, but as soon as she sat down, Elsie wondered if someone was out there watching. She set her coffee down on the table and reached to shut the curtains, blocking out the view. It felt like a small defeat, like she was letting whoever was after her win. But she had to be practical. Leaving the shades open was an unnecessary risk.

“Weird to think they could be out there, huh?” Wyatt commented, and Elsie nodded, exhaling the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as she did so.

“It’s not my favorite feeling, wondering if I’m being watched.”

“Have you had that a lot?”

Elsie looked up at him, considered. “The feeling of being watched?” she asked to clarify.

He nodded.