Page 10 of Breaking Through

"Thanks." The shorter one stuffed the wet tent into its bag. "I guess we were being kind of stupid."

"Nah." I helped them secure their gear. "Determined. There's a difference. But sometimes the smart play is knowing when to change plans."

With perfect timing, the first fat raindrops began to fall as we made our way to their car. The limestone path had turned slick, and I kept them away from the edge, positioning myself between them and the drop-off out of habit.

"The hotel's got a great restaurant. Try the whitefish. It was probably swimming in the lake this morning."

They waved as they drove off, their taillights disappearing into the gathering gloom. I stayed until I couldn't see them anymore, something tight in my chest loosening. I called Tom over the radio. "Eagle Point's clear. The last campers are headed to the Grand Harbor."

"Copy that." His voice crackled through static. "You going to tell me how you convinced them? I had a couple by the marina earlier who nearly started a riot when I said they had to move."

I thought about the fire, how I'd learned to read people's faces and find the words that would make them listen when seconds counted. "Just gave them a better option."

"You always do." There was a knowing tone in Tom's voice I chose to ignore. "Hey, speaking of better options, Sarah said—"

I clicked the radio off and turned to face the storm. The lake had turned the color of wet slate, waves building with each gust. My scars ached with the dropping pressure, a familiar burn that had nothing to do with the memory of green eyes and a camera's click.

Nothing at all.

The afternoon blurred into motion: relocating another set of campers, securing loose equipment, and checking and double-checking emergency protocols. It was work I could sink into and forget the rest of the world.

As sunset approached, I did one final sweep of the lakeshore. Wind-whipped waves slammed against the rocks, shooting spray ten feet into the air, and the horizon disappeared into a wall of gunmetal gray.

Even the air felt wrong, thick enough to chew, carrying the metallic tang of ozone and that peculiar heaviness that came before severe weather. Despite the wind, the temperature held in the eighties, too warm and thick for September in Wisconsin. The humidity made my uniform cling like a second skin.

Movement caught my eye—a figure with a camera, and for a moment, my heart forgot its careful rhythm. It was just a tourist trying to capture the storm's approach. It wasn't careful hands cradling a Polaroid.

I turned toward the ranger station as the rain intensified, drops so large they stung even through my jacket. Behind me,thunder didn't roll anymore—it cracked like artillery, each blast followed by a rumble that went on and on, bouncing between cloud and water. The storm wasn't coming anymore.

Its front line had arrived.

Chapter five

Holden

Rain hammered against the boathouse windows, with each wind gust driving water in sheets against the glass. I shook out my messenger bag as I climbed the creaky stairs to Parker's loft office. It was an incomplete morning without my ritual of three photos, but the weather was too rough even for my optimistic outlook. Lake Michigan throwing a temper tantrum wasn't the kind of beauty I could adequately capture. Perhaps I'd have to do a few indoor shots.

"You look like a half-drowned puppy," Parker called from his desk nest. He'd built a fort out of laptops and coffee mugs. When his face finally appeared, his sandy hair was more disheveled than usual. "I was starting to wonder whether you'd brave the weather."

"I tried staring it down first thing this morning." I reached up and ran a hand through my damp hair. "Made it halfway to the state park before turning around. The waves were crashing hard against the boulders just north of town, and water surged across the road. I figured even Wade wouldn't be swimming in that."

"Ah-ha!" Parker pointed at me. "So you were hoping for another sunrise encounter?"

"I was hoping to get my usual three photos," I protested, but the heat in my cheeks betrayed me. "Besides, those waves looked powerful enough to sweep away a cruise ship, let alone one handsome park ranger." I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. They were unintentional.

"'Handsome,' he says." Parker's grin widened. "Just like that, so casual. As if the whole town hasn't noticed you lighting up every time someone mentions his name."

I sighed. "After that, I decided I'd better show up here. I figured you'd send out a search party if I didn't appear."

"More like I'd send Sarah with coffee to your house along with strict instructions to extract every detail about yesterday morning's beach encounter." His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. "Which, by the way, she's already told me about. Three times."

Heat crept up my neck. "Does anyone in this town actually work, or do they just spend time passing around gossip like trading cards?"

"Both, obviously." Parker spun in his chair, nearly knocking over one of his precariously balanced computers. "But you can't blame us. It's been ages since we had a. fresh romance to talk about. Now, show me the photo everyone's talking about."

I hesitated, one hand on my bag. "It's not—I mean, it wasn't meant to be—"

"Holden…" Parker's voice softened. "The whole town knows Wade Forrester hasn't let anyone in close to him since he arrived three years ago. Then, you show up with your sunshine smile and a camera, and suddenly, he's rising out of the lake like a brooding romance novel hero. That's pure Blue Harbor magic."

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