Page 71 of Her Wild Coast Refuge

How can I stand behind a deal that jeopardizes everything she loves?

Since the beginning, I’ve demanded high standards for safety. Not only because another Otter Creek would destroy everything we’ve built, but because I couldn’t live with myself. But that doesn’t mean we haven’t caused permanent changes to not just the earth, but to families, communities. I told myself it was for the greater good. That people’s lives were better because we brought them solutions to the problems natural resources can fix.

And while that’s still true for some people, it’s becoming impossible for me. And it’s certainly never going to be true for Lexie.

ChapterEighteen

DAWSON

The mist turnsto steady hard rain that under normal circumstances would help me sleep, but my thoughts are like a hamster on his wheel, running, running, running and never getting anywhere.

Accepting Bealer’s deal means I’ll be free of my past. I get to walk away.

But I can’t be free and save Soren Creek too. I have to choose.

Damn it all to hell. Haven’t I endured enough?

There has to be a solution that doesn’t cut so deep. I just need to find it.

Finally, at five in the morning, I give up on sleep and head to the small gym for a spin workout. While I chase Lance Armstrong through the French Alps, I try to rethink all the elements of this deal. Is there something I’ve missed? How can I fix this so nobody has to lose?

In the shower, I’m still stewing, my frustration growing. Quinn will expect my answer today. I agreed to sign if the deal looked solid.

But I need more time.

While I’m shaving at the sink, my phone lights up with a text from Lexie.

Too stormy for Iditarod Boot Camp. Option 1: ghost town tour (with umbrellas). Option 2: arctic museum.

Option 3:spend the day in bed.

My pulse taps low in my belly.

Quinn replies:

Ghost town. But breakfast here first. I’m making waffles.

Yum. On my way.

When I get downstairs, Quinn’s whipping ingredients in a bowl. He’s also built a fire in the hearth. The wood crackles and snaps, drowning out the gusts of wind outside.

“Waffles, huh?”

“Proper nourishment is very important,” he replies with a playful smirk.

I pour a cup of coffee, then carry it to the window. Outside, the rain is like a fuzzy curtain of gray, obscuring everything beyond the deck. “This is a mistake.”

Quinn stops mixing. “You want pancakes instead?”

I glare at him over my shoulder. “Not talking about breakfast.”

He nods once. “You mean with Lexie?”

I turn back to the non-view. “With everything.”

“Want to unpack that for me a bit?”

“I’m stupid for not realizing it. I got so caught up in…her. In this.” My fingers shake, and I set my coffee down before I spill it.

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