Page 36 of Her Wild Coast Promise

Freshly showered and his handsome face clean-shaven, his smile knocks me flat. But the uniform puts me over the edge. His dark blue shirt fits perfectly snug across his broad chest. I will myself away from imagining my fingers on each one of the silver snaps leading down to his waist.

There’s an awkward moment when he realizes I’m not still in my clothes.

“Sorry.” I clench my eyes shut for a moment to refocus. “The water was really cold…” I’m so frozen right now I could cry. If he looks at me with disdain, Iwillcry. I remember our conversation earlier.I don’t have time for games.

Shit, does he think I’m trying to seduce him right now?

Seth reaches into the shower and turns the dial. “Just pull this down,” he says, bending to the faucet. He tugs on the ring where the water pours out and, as if by magic, water streams from the showerhead.

“Thank you,” I say, not meeting his eyes.

“No problem.” Moving swiftly, he slips from the room and shuts the door behind him.

My shower is hot but it doesn’t wash away the sense of shame. Why did I call for him while still in my towel? The prudent thing would have been to get dressed and go downstairs and wait for him to emerge, then ask for help. Or am I overthinking this and I called for him because I trust him?

When I get downstairs, ready to make a formal apology, Seth is gone. His woodsy scent lingers, and mixed with the smell of fresh coffee, it’s heavenly. Rosie trots over from her bed by the couch, tail wagging. I stroke her soft head while reading Seth’s note.

Coffee’s hot and my truck keys are on the hook.

See you at lunch,

Seth

From our conversations leading up to my arrival, Seth made it clear he wasn’t getting much time off. I told him not to worry about it. Having time to myself to sort things through and do research is important. I also don’t want to detract from him doing his job.

Plus, some things I will need to do alone, like digging into Peyton Reece’s reasons for wanting to become sheriff, which is at the top of my to-do list. I’m already behind on this campaign. Exposing what could be a misguided motivation could level the playing field.

Today’s lunch date is purely business: I need to meet his coworkers as well as establish our plan to recruit voters and donations using the campaign CRM I’ve set up. But first, I’m meeting with the retiring Chief Kauffman and his wife, who have pledged their support. They also insisted I bring Rosie.

“You up for an adventure?” I ask Rosie while pouring coffee into a travel mug.

She wags her tail faster.

“Let’s go,” I say.

Outside, the first bright rays of the sun are dancing through the giant trees, making the dew on the grass glisten like silver beads. Rosie trots alongside me, and when I open Seth’s tailgate, she leaps up like her legs are made of springs. Inside is a thick dog bed made with green camo-patterned fabric. Rosie curls up in a tight ball and sighs, as if content.

Seth’s truck is so big I have to use the handle above the window to lever myself into the seat. In the daylight, this inner sanctum is so clearly his. A pack of wintermint gum, a tube of unscented lip balm, and a phone charger neatly organized on the console. Inside, a box of tissues and spare change tucked neatly into the coin holders. The floor mats show some dirt in the cracks, but the carpet is clean, the windows have no smudges, the cracks in the seats are crumb-free, no coffee spills on the divider. It’s like he cleaned the truck yesterday.

Did he—just for me? Or does he steam clean his truck daily?

With a flutter in my chest, I back out of the garage, tap the button to close it, and reverse slowly onto the street.

The town of McKenzie reminds me a little bit of Great Falls, Montana. There’s a shopping center with a big grocery store, fabric shop, a café, and a few chain restaurants. Then a cute downtown with shops and eateries, the fire station, a park with a giant totem pole carving and handsome signs directing me to trailheads. As I crest a hill, the sun breaks through a cloudbank, lighting up a row of giant peaks to the north. From Noah’s stories, I know that the tallest one is McKenzie Mountain, the peak he and Seth climbed together and the inspiration for my niece’s name: Kenzie.

I pull over so I can snap a picture, then send it to Noah with the note:

C’est magnifique, comme ta petite

To my surprise, he calls.

I answer using the truck’s Bluetooth speaker so I can start driving again.

“Nice shot,” he says. “I’ll show Kenzie when she gets home from school.”

“I’m seriously impressed,” I reply.

“How’s Alaska? Seth taking good care of you?”

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