“Ethan ... you take such care of me and are always so thoughtful and considerate. You’re such a good man.”
His eyes narrowed. There was a ‘but’ coming.
“But ...”
He stiffened. There it was.
“But ... I think you were right. We need to take ... us ... a little slower. I don’t think I’m ready ... after all.”
He nodded, forcing his expression to remain unchanging and his pain to remain buried. “We can take as much time as you need.”
Her hand speared through her hair. “The thing is I’m not sure I can do this ... at all.”
His heart fell. He moved to touch her, to soothe her anxiety but she backed away, chin still angled.
His arm slowly lowered. “Bridie, I can understand that things have moved too quickly between us, and I’m sorry I didn’t do what I should have yesterday, and not let us rush into anything.”
This time she moved. She touched his cheek. “Yesterday was perfect.” The warmth of her fingertips seeped into his skin but couldn’t warm the chill engulfing him. “This has everything to do with me and nothing to do with anything you’ve done. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever to find you and now ... now I’m worried that we won’t have forever together.”
“Nothing’s certain, my childhood taught me that, but you can’t let the ‘what ifs’ stop you from living your life.” He caught her fingers and kissed them. “I’d wait a thousand forevers to find you. I’m not going anywhere.”
She blinked and stepped into his arms. He held her close like he’d never let her go. His hand slid into her hair. “Try and sleep. Everything will seem different in the morning. We’ll talk then.”
“You slept in.”
Ethan frowned and rubbed a hand across his bare chest. Henry’s gruff voice seemed overly loud in the kitchen that didn’t usually smell of coffee until after breakfast.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. You needed to be out of bed an hour ago.”
Ethan struggled to understand through the fog of little sleep. “What do you mean?”
Henry handed him a steaming mug. He took a quick sip and spluttered at the strength. “And Bridie thinks I make strong coffee?”
“You’ll need it.”
Henry then handed him a note. Ethan came fully awake. The feminine handwriting on the folded paper had to be Bridie’s.
“What’s in this? Have you read it?”
Henry scowled. “You know I can’t read without my glasses; they’re over near my crossword book.”
Ethan prised open the note and his mouth dried.
Bridie’s message was simple but it was what it didn’t say that was ominous.
Dear Ethan
I’ve gone to the mountains for the day. I feel fine and I’ve taken bear spray and my EpiPen.
Hope it’s okay, Henry, I’ve taken Molly. And Henry, that missing crossword answer is anemone.
Bridie
Ethan slowly lowered the note. What Bridie hadn’t said was why she’d felt the sudden need to go away alone and also that they’d talk when she’d got back. He thought they’d had the summer to slow things down and for him to tell her that he loved her. But if the concerns she felt last night remained, if she’d woken and nothing looked different, he might already be out of time. His hands shook. He could only hope that her trip didn’t signal that the woman he loved could now be beyond his reach.
“What are you waiting for?” Henry glowered. “She’s got over an hour’s head start. I don’t care if she says she feels fine, she can’t be if she’s gone up there without you.”
Ethan sighed. “I thought you said you can’t read without your glasses?”
“I can’t. But Bridie left the note over there by my glasses.” Henry turned toward the stove top. “Have a shower and I’ll cook you a hot breakfast. You’ll need it.”
Ethan didn’t move. Bridie wouldn’t appreciate him racing off after her. He was the reason she’d gone into the backcountry; he owed it to her to give her the space she needed.
He stared out the oversize kitchen window at the high country that remained draped in cloud. The sun might have risen but the sky remained a gloomy grey. The weather was closing in and storms were predicted.
Then there were the poachers. Cordell had confirmed that the man they’d seen at Bear Paw Falls was no photographer. Cordell had removed several animal traps and passed on their locations and details to the Sheriff’s department. It also had to have been a poacher who’d watched them through binoculars the afternoon they’d ridden back from the log cabin meadow.