He ate breakfast quickly, poured coffee into a travel mug and started toward the airport, which wasn’t even a mile from his house. That was one of the perks of a town as small as Destruction Point. Besides the houses across the bay, where Elsie lived, nothing in town was far away. Growing up, he’d taken the town for granted, but as an adult he saw how special it was and how lucky he was to call it home.

He worked through his preflight routine, doing his best to keep his focus and not let himself think about the woman he had no business dwelling on. It somewhat worked.

Wyatt wouldn’t say he knew the exact moment Elsie arrived at the airport. It wasn’t like he could sense her presence or anything so cheesy, but there was a certain...awareness he felt, and when he looked over his shoulder a minute or so later, he saw Elsie.

“I thought I must be imagining things when I walked up here and it was you.”

“Because I’m actually working?” He hoped it sounded teasing instead of defensive.

“Because I didn’t know you were a pilot. Much less my pilot.”

My pilot. Her words shouldn’t sink into his heart like that, shouldn’t matter to him the way he was afraid they might.

“My transportation for the day, I mean.” She tripped over herself trying to clarify and Wyatt realized this must be awkward for her, too.

“Listen, about the other night...” He blinked, gathering himself. “I pushed you to accept my help. You wanted me to let it go and I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

She looked uncomfortable for a moment. “About what I said, I didn’t mean you were evil or anything...”

“I know.”

“It clearly bothered you, and I didn’t mean...”

He sighed. “Can we just let it go?”

“If we’re going to clear the air, let’s really clear it. Or were you just wanting to sweep it under a rug?”

What he was wanting was not to discuss the weirdness of being unintentionally dissed by a woman he thought was beautiful and way too good for him.

“Fine.” He inhaled. Exhaled. “Here’s the thing, Elsie. I was a different guy in high school. The girls, the flirting incessantly, that’s not who I am anymore. Our conversation reminded me of how much I’ve changed or have tried to change, and I...” He shrugged. “I don’t always want to be reminded of the old me. But your judgment of who you remember me to be was fair.”

The silence between them stretched, but it was the good kind of stretch. Wyatt waited.

Elsie stuck out her hand. “I said we couldn’t start over. But maybe we should as adults. Hi. I’m Elsie Montgomery.”

Her easy response made him smile, despite himself. He shook her hand. “Wyatt Chandler.”

“Nice to meet you again.”

He’d never wanted to be the new him more than he did at this moment.

She’d tried to play it cool, but Elsie’s heart had started to pound when she’d seen Wyatt inspecting his plane. Especially when she noticed his broad shoulders and thought of him inside her house, looking tall and intimidating and worried about her.

Touching him, even for a handshake, had been a mistake. She could still feel the sparks on her hand. Inexplicable, but entirely real.

She buried her hand in Willow’s fur, trying to rub away the memory of his hand.

“You can wait in the plane if you want. I’m almost done.” His smile was relaxed and Elsie was glad they’d had that conversation, awkward as it had been. It wasn’t fair that she’d assumed he was the same shallow guy he’d been a decade ago. Not when he was so genuine about wanting to change.

She just hadn’t expected to be quite so affected. Of course, he was Wyatt Chandler. She’d seen the way he attracted girls like moths to a flame. She’d thought she was...better than that? Past that? That seemed arrogant now.

Add that to her concern that her past might be resurfacing in ways she didn’t understand, and Elsie was...several steps past overwhelmed.

She pulled the door open and took in the small plane. It was just big enough for four people, no extra space, but really a nice plane. Elsie didn’t know much about airplanes, but she’d ridden in plenty of them, and this was one of the better-kept ones that she’d been in. The last plane that had transported her to a search site had seats covered in duct tape. While she certainly appreciated Alaskans’ love for the stuff, it had been a little disconcerting to see so much in an airplane that was supposed to keep her in the sky, even if it was on the seats. She much preferred Wyatt’s plane.

She felt jittery. She needed them to get going. To focus fully on her dog and on the task in front of her. Getting called out on a search every few days wasn’t unusual at this time of the year. It still felt like it was summer, but the temperatures at night were much less forgiving and the weather less predictable. People made bad choices.

This call sounded like it was on an island not far from the one where she’d been found as a toddler. Did that unnerve her? Yes. Did she think it was connected to the other night?

No.

Probably not?

As Wyatt climbed in, she stole a glance at him. What if she was wrong? She could be putting her life in danger. And his, too? No. She dismissed that thought. Pilots didn’t generally hang around during a search. They got paid by the mission, by the flight, and it would be foolish to waste time sitting on the ground when he could be doing other jobs. He’d pick them up that night or the next day if she asked for more time. He would be safe.

At least she didn’t have to worry about that.

But as Wyatt started to taxi down the narrow runway, Elsie couldn’t help but think that she had plenty of other things to worry about.

FOUR

“You should know,” Wyatt said over the headphones when they were airborne and over the ocean that separated Destruction Point from Homer, “that I’m still worried about you.”

From the seat beside him, she replied, “What happened to forgetting the other night?”

“Elsie.”

Her voice had been too lighthearted. Wyatt was surprised to realize he could read her emotions in her voice well enough to know that she was bothered, too. “What’s wrong?”

She frowned at him. “Nothing.” Then her shoulders sagged. “I’m not as focused as I’d like to be today. Having someone break into my house bothers me.”

“But there’s something else, isn’t there?” he asked, sensing there was more, while keeping his eyes on the sky ahead and his instruments.

“It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“It’s a fifteen-minute flight.”

She sounded like she wanted to confide in him, like she was talking herself out of it.

She sighed. “Let’s just say I’m concerned you might be right.”

“That someone is targeting you?”

“Yes, but like I said...concerned. Not certain.”

“Then you have no business taking this call. You’ll be completely exposed, out in the wilderness.”