Page 54 of Her Wild Coast Promise

“You have plenty of time,” she reminds me.

“Tell that to my bank account,” I reply with a singsong sigh.

I get restless by mid-morning,so I dress for a run. Rosie does her happy dance, her toenails clicking on the hardwood in excitement. Following Seth’s route from our first morning, I set a moderate pace and queue my Mindful Movement playlist. Rosie trots at my side, her tail wagging.

My conversation with Libby plays in my head.I’m focusing on Seth. Maybe he’ll return the favor.

“Ugh,” I say out loud, startling an older gentleman walking his arthritic Basset Hound.

I think about last night’s kiss, and how much I liked it. For those few stolen moments, everything felt right with the world. The campaign stress and the dangerous tension building between us didn’t matter. It was as if I had asked him an important question, and that kiss had been his answer.

If he can kiss like that, what would more of it feel like?

The staccato opening of Sarah Bareilles’s “Brave” blasts in my ears, and I sigh in surrender. It’s a battle cry for speaking your mind, for standing up for yourself. For unrelenting bravery.

I wanna see you be brave, Sarah croons.

Freaking hell. I’d like to see me be brave too. But if Seth kisses me again, the chances of me harnessing my bravery to resist are exactly zero.

I’m so distracted by the thoughts swirling around in my head that I don’t notice Rosie’s pulling, her nose sniffing the air.

“Rosie, wait up,” I tighten my grip on her leash, but I’m barely keeping her from a gallop. Can she smell that Seth’s home from a block away? I increase my pace, but Rosie takes this as permission to pull harder. By the time we reach the house, I’m in a full-on sprint. Seth’s SUV isn’t in the garage. I expect Rosie to pull me to the front door, but instead she leads me to the side of the house. The damp grass coats my sneakers and branches whip past my face.

“Rosie!” I yelp, but she’s on a mission. Is she chasing a squirrel? A bear? We round the side of the house.

Rosie jerks to a stop, her nose pointed toward the woods. She whines, and glances back at me.

“Good girl,” I pant, even though I have no idea what I’m praising her for.

She sits, as if waiting for something. I take a quick glance around us, but there’s nothing out of place. The forest is shaded, with sunlight poking through. The yard looks the same. Ferns and shrubs and grass. Seth told me that Rosie used to do police work, but that was many years ago, and she was showing signs of distress so was given an early retirement.

There is no indication of a disturbance or anything out of place.

“Good girl, Rosie,” I say again, and pet her head.

She stands and wags her tail, her eyes on me.

“Let’s go inside,” I say to her, even if it’s just to cut the eerie silence.

Rosie gives me arawr.

Turning my back on the woods, icy prickles race down my spine. Though I know there’s no one there, I hurry to the porch and lock the door behind me.

After a shower,I grab a bagel and the last of the coffee for lunch as I drive to the McKenzie County Sheriff’s HQ. Because it’s Sunday, Bonnie’s not here, which gives the department a barren feeling. I press the bell on her desk to alert one of the staff of my presence.

The same deputy I met on my first day approaches from somewhere out of sight in the bullpen. His name tag says McCabe. Hunter, if I remember correctly.

“Hey Cora.” His hazel eyes are keen, alert. “Are you looking for Seth?”

“Is he here?”

Hunter’s lips tense. It’s subtle, but I know that what he’s about to say has been censored. “I can page him.”

“Actually, maybe you can help me,” I say, changing my plans. “Do you have a few minutes?”

He seems to think about this. “Sure. Do we need the conference room?”

“I can just pull up a chair, if that’s okay?”

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