Page 87 of Seen Knot Heard

As I turn back to the counter to work on the remaining pies, a flash of movement outside the front window turns my blood to ice. The rolling pin slips from my grasp, nearly clattering to the floor before I snatch it up again, pulse racing.

“Princess?” I fight to keep calm so I don’t scare her. “Please go help your Uncle Dom with the laundry. I forgot he had a big load to fold.”

“What about the cookies?” She fixes me with a pout that would normally melt my resolve. “You promised!”

“Quinn,” I say sharply. “Go, now. Please.”

Shocked, her bottom lip trembles as she slides off the chair. At the door, she peers back with tears clinging to her lashes.

I soften my tone. “Go on, princess. We’ll bake cookies later, okay?”

Still pouting, she stomps out of the kitchen, pigtails swishing.

Guilt twists my stomach, but I can’t afford to coddle her, not when an unknown threat may be lurking.

With the hefty marble rolling pin in hand, I creep through the dining room on silent feet, shoulders tense and heart thudding an erratic tempo. The metallic tang of adrenaline coats my tongue as I ease open the front door, every sense on high alert.

I step out onto the porch, rolling pin brandished like a weapon. The boards are still sun-warmed beneath my feet as I creep toward the stairs.

Pulse pounding, I venture down the steps, the rolling pin gripped so tightly that my knuckles ache. The golden light of early evening casts shadows across the path as I walk forward, each cautious step a futile attempt at stealth.

When I don’t find anyone, I turn back to the cabin and spot a lone boot print off the gravel path, leading toward the Phase Two construction site, where no one should be.

My grip on the rolling pin tightens, but it seems flimsy, the muscles built from years in the kitchen insufficient for a fight. With an unsteady hand, I fish my phone from my apron, nearly dropping it twice.

Emily picks up on the second ring, the sound of hammers and saws in the background. “Holden! To what do I owe this pleasure? Please say you’re inviting me up for dinner tonight.”

“You’re always welcome. Beef pot pies.” I shake my head. “Em, are any of the workers on break right now?”

Papers rustle on the other end before she replies. “Negative. Hector’s whole crew is still on Cabin Four, shingling the roof.”

“Okay, thanks.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Can you do me a favor and take a headcount? I thought I saw…”

The words tangle on my tongue, sounding paranoid even to my own ears. Some Alpha I am, jumping at shadows and crying wolf.

“Never mind,” I mutter. “It’s probably nothing. See you for dinner.”

I end the call before she can probe further, staring hard at the incriminating footprint.

“Holden?”

Dominic’s voice cuts through the silence, startling me. I whirl to find him framed in the doorway, brow furrowed in concern. He peers back over his shoulder before closing the door with a soft click and striding down the steps toward me.

“What’s going on?” His eyes dart between my face and the rolling pin still clutched in my hand. “Why are you out here?”

“I saw someone. Right here. They headed toward Phase Two.” I point at the footprint with the handle of the pin, trying to ignore how my hand trembles. “When I called Emily, she said all the workers are accounted for.”

Dominic crouches, tracing the boot’s outline with a fingertip. “We didn’t find any signs of the intruder by the beach where the boat washed up.”

“Well, someone was here,” I snap, then regret my temper. “Sorry, I just… Why are they doing this, Dom? Do they mean to hurt Chloe?”

“Hey.” Warm hands grip my shoulders, and Dominic’s citrusy musk wraps around me, loosening the panic in my chest. “We won’t let that happen. I’ll order some cameras, and Kyle can pick them up from the store when he goes to pick up Chloe and the others.”

“Let’s do that.” The footprint draws my attention again, and I shiver. “Maybe some sensors for the windows and doors downstairs, too?”

“Yeah.” Dominic’s eyes brush over the rolling pin, then flick down to my bare toes curling into the damp earth. “We should head back inside. I don’t like leaving Quinn alone, even with Sprinkles standing guard.”

A shiver skitters down my spine, the need to protect our pack’s pup driving me back toward the Homestead.

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