Page 37 of Against the Wind

“Maybe give her a chance to breathe, Gabs. Reckon she’s done had herself a bit of a scare.”

The familiar drawl of his accent surprised me almost as much as his presence here. But he was right. I needed to back off, let her process. The doctor in me wanted to fix everything immediately, but sometimes being a friend meant knowing when to wait.

He turned to offer a half-smile to Sawyer. “We’ll give y’all a lift somewhere, if you need.”

Sawyer took the hand he offered. “That’d be good. My wife’s had a hell of a day. Who are you, by the way?”

“Pardon me. Petty Officer First Class Daniel LaRue, U.S. Coast Guard. At your service.”

I watched as they helped Willa into the Zodiac, my heart aching at how unsteady she was. Daniel caught her when she nearly fell, and I hurried to sit beside her once we got her settledwith a life jacket. Ever the protective guardian, Roy flattened himself next to her.

I took her cold hands in mine. “I’ve gotcha. Headache?”

“Migraine,” she gritted out.

“We’ll get you fixed up as soon as we get back to Sutter House.”

Willa’s eyes squeezed shut against what I suspected was increasing pain, but she still managed to mutter, “New Orleans?”

I understood without further clarification what she was asking. My cheeks warmed. “Remember that situationship I mentioned?” It was all I’d had a chance to tell her when I’d first returned to Hatterwick.

“Yeah?”

“He’s him. I’ll explain everything later.”

“Holding you to that.”

Daniel fired up the motor, cutting off further conversation. The trip up to Sutter House at the northern tip of the island was mercifully quick. Once we reached the dock, the men secured the boat and helped us out.

“We’ll get those knees cleaned, some meds for your migraine, and I’ll finish checking you over. I’ve got something that will help you sleep if the migraine meds don’t do it.”

“No!” Willa jerked away from me, backing into Sawyer.

His arms came around her protectively. “It’s okay. Nobody’s gonna sedate you, Wren.”

I stared at my friend, thrown by her extreme reaction. While her behavior could be explained by the trauma she’d just experienced, I sensed there was more to it. But now wasn’t the time to push.

We made our way slowly up to the house, the men discussing storm damage and power restoration timelines. I noticed Willa growing more distant with each step, retreating into herself in a way that worried me deeply.

In the end, Sawyer was the one who cleaned and bandaged Willa’s knees and hands with supplies from my medical bag. She remained eerily quiet, responding only in monosyllables when I examined her. The thousand-yard stare in her eyes scared me. I’d seen Willa retreat into herself before, but this was different. This was full dissociation.

“I don’t like this, Sawyer. She’s way too shocky.” Was this all because of what she’d seen, or was something else going on?

“She’ll be better after she’s slept,” he assured me, but I could see the worry in his eyes too.

I gave him a quick rundown of symptoms to watch for—changes in breathing, increased confusion, severe headache beyond the migraine. Basic things that might indicate she needed immediate medical attention beyond what we’d already provided. But I knew pushing for more right now would only make things worse.

Daniel hung back, giving us space while still staying close enough to help if needed. The quiet efficiency with which he’d handled everything today—from getting me to Willa quickly to helping transport her home—made my heart ache with gratitude. It was exactly the kind of thoughtfulness that had drawn me to him in the first place.

I watched Willa’s eyes grow heavy as the migraine medication took effect. Part of me wanted to stay, to make sure she was really okay. But I knew Sawyer would take good care of her, and my hovering wouldn’t help.

What terrified me most was not knowing exactly what—or rather who—Willa had likely found out there in the maritime forest. After twelve years, had the storm finally revealed what happened to Gwen? The thought made me sick to my stomach.

I’d spent years trying not to think about that night, about the friend who’d vanished without a trace. But now all those memories came flooding back—the three of us gigglingat sleepovers, sharing secrets, planning our futures. Never imagining one of us wouldn’t make it to those futures we’d dreamed up.

“Ready to head home?” Daniel’s quiet voice came from behind me.

I turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, his uniform still covered in sand and salt spray. The events of the past twenty-four hours showed in the shadows under his eyes and the stubble darkening his jaw. Despite that, concern for me radiated from his expression.

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