Page 12 of His Determined Mate

Their chemistry was undeniable. Every glance, every touch, seemed to spark something between them. Hannah felt it in the way her pulse quickened whenever he was near, in the way her heart seemed to beat in time with his. It was an unspoken connection, powerful and intense, that left her feeling both exhilarated and confused.

As she handed a customer their order, Hannah's thoughts wandered. There was something about Rick that she couldn't quite place. He was more than just a friend, more than just a romantic interest. There was a depth to him, a mystery that intrigued her. She wondered if he felt the same pull, the same inexplicable bond that she did.

Lost in thought, Hannah almost missed the flash of movement outside the window. She glanced up and thought she saw Celeste, Teddy's girlfriend, weaving through the crowd. Her heart skipped a beat, but when she looked again, there was no sign of her. It had only been a glimpse, and she told herself it couldn't have been Celeste. She was thousands of miles away, living her best life with Teddy. Hannah wished them both well.

Hannah shook her head, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling that had settled over her. She turned her attention back to the bakery, to the smiling faces and the hum of activity. But a small part of her couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that the glimpse of Celeste meant more than she wanted to admit.

"Hey, you okay?" Rick's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He stood beside her, concern etched in his features.

Hannah forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, just thought I saw someone I know, but it was nothing."

Rick's eyes searched hers for a moment before he nodded, a reassuring smile spreading across his face. "If you need anything, I'm right here."

"Thanks, Rick," she said, feeling a rush of warmth at his words.

As the day wore on, the festival continued to draw crowds to Hannah's Hearth. The bakery buzzed with excitement, and Hannah found herself swept up in the joy of it all. Rick remained a steady presence, his support and encouragement bolstering her spirits.

But as the sun began to set and the festival lights flickered to life, Hannah couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Rick than met the eye. The way he moved, the way he seemed to always know when she needed help, the way he made her feel safe—it all hinted at something deeper, something she couldn't quite grasp.

She watched him as he helped a customer, his smile genuine and his demeanor calm. There was a strength to him, a quiet power that both comforted and intrigued her. And in that moment, she realized that she wanted to know more. She wanted to uncover the mysteries that surrounded him, to understand the bond that drew them together.

As the festival continued into the night, Hannah's heart swelled with a mixture of joy and anticipation. Whatever secrets Rick held, whatever lay beneath the surface, she was determined to discover it. She was happy and yet there had been something disquieting about having glimpsed Celeste. But there was no way it could have been her, could it?

CHAPTER 7

RICK

The Northern Lights Festival had been a smashing success, as had Hannah’s Hearth. Even though she had planned well and prepared more baked goods than she thought she’d need, it became clear early on that the number wouldn’t be enough. Luckily Rick and Melinda had worked to cover the front of the bakery while Hannah went to work in the kitchen to make more. It wasn’t the worst problem to have—people got to see her in action and the bakery was filled with the most enticing aromas. Nicole Asher had called to tell Hannah that five of her clients for upcoming events had informed her they wanted Hannah to provide all the baked goods for their affairs.

The festival had been marred by one incident at the end of a very long day. As the fading sun had begun to sink beyond the horizon, the night sky had begun to fill not only with the aurora borealis and fireworks, but with the sound of those wanting to celebrate in their own way.

The air was thick with the salty scent of the sea and the pungent aroma of freshly baked goods, reminders of the celebrations that had seized the entire town, including those who had been forced to work while others enjoyed all that the festival had to offer. Rick walked outside and watched as a group of local fishermen, their laughter echoing through the night, passed around bottles of cheap whiskey and beer. Their long season had finally drawn to a close and grueling months of hard labor had culminated in a group of people not content with contained and planned revelry. They wanted a night of reckless celebration.

As the night deepened, their partying grew louder and more raucous. The real trouble began when the fishermen began pulling out their rifles, firing shots into the air in drunken merriment. Rick shook his head, a sense of unease settling in his gut. He knew these men, had worked alongside them for years, but tonight something felt off. Their response to all the merrymaking around them, combined with the need to let off steam wasn’t unexpected, though, and it appeared that the police were not caught unaware and had dispatched people to quell them.

A sudden, sharp crack split the night, different from the echoing boom of the rifles. Rick's heart lurched as he heard a scream. He spun around to see Hannah, who had stepped outside to join him, clutching her arm, her face pale and eyes wide with shock.

"What happened?" Rick shouted, rushing to her side.

"Something hit me," Hannah gasped, pointing to the wooden wall of the bakery.

Neither the fishermen, nor the police, seemed to take notice. The fishermen were laughing and staggering as they continued their rowdy celebration, and the cops were far more intent on getting a handle on the situation. Rick's concern grew as he examined the wall. Embedded in the wood, right where Hannah had pointed, was a small, glinting piece of metal. Rick pried it out carefully and examined it under the dim light of the streetlights. He knew he probably should have left it, but the police didn’t seem all that interested.

It was a bullet, but not one that came from a rifle. Rick's experience with firearms was extensive, and he knew immediately that this was from a handgun. He glanced back at the fishermen, none of whom were carrying anything but rifles.

Rick got Hannah inside and tended to the graze wound before calling the precinct. The police arrived within short order, took Hannah's statement, and listened to Rick's concerns, but their attitude was dismissive. They seemed convinced that it was nothing more than some random fisherman having had too much to drink and firing a stray shot that went awry in their drunken state.

"It's just those guys having too much to drink," one of the officers said, waving a hand dismissively. "Nothing to worry about."

Rick's jaw tightened. "Hannah was shot. One of the citizens of Kodiak, you know the people you’re sworn to protect, has been hurt. This bullet,” he said holding it up, “isn't from a rifle. It’s from a handgun. None of those guys had a handgun."

The officer sighed, clearly not taking Rick seriously. "Look, we'll file a report, but it's probably just a ricochet or something. You couldn’t possibly see everybody who was partying too hard or what kind of weapon they had. I’m sorry Hannah was hurt, but let’s not make a big deal out of it."

Rick knew better than to argue further. He pocketed the bullet, resolving to keep it safe. As the officers wrapped up their half-hearted investigation and the fishermen continued their debauchery, Rick's mind raced. Someone out there had fired a handgun, and they had almost hit Hannah. That made, by his estimation, three attempts on Hannah’s life. He thought about mentioning it to the cops, but so far, they’d been more dismissive than helpful.

On the second day of the festival, snow threatened, its ominous presence looming overhead all day. Many who had lived on Kodiak Island for years kept a sharp eye on the skies above.

The snowstorm that had been hanging overhead with a menacing air all day struck Kodiak with a vengeance, the wind howling and snowflakes swirling in an almost blinding flurry. While the snow itself hadn’t been a surprise, it had waited until after dark to unleash its full fury. Rick stood at the bakery window, watching as the white blanket thickened over the streets, the world outside disappearing under a veil of snow. Plans for the evening were rapidly derailing for everyone, himself included. Power outages began to ripple through the town, plunging entire neighborhoods into darkness, while the roads quickly became treacherous.

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