I turned to her as I headed to the kitchen. “What did she look like?”
“I… I don’t know. Older, maybe in her late sixties or late fifties. Her hair was silver and hung in a braid over her shoulder. She was dressed like a rancher. Maybe I’m being paranoid,” Lana said, following me. “Small towns talk. She could have heard about us legitimately.”
“Most people’s instincts are good; they just don’t usually listen to them,” I countered, making my way toward the back of the house. “If something felt off to you, there’s probably a reason.”
I reached the kitchen and peered out the window above the sink. The back porch was empty except for—
“What’s that?” I squinted at a small white rectangle sitting on the porch railing.
Lana moved beside me to look. “I don’t know. That wasn’t there when I left.”
“Stay here,” I said, already moving toward the back door.
“Like hell,” she replied, right on my heels.
I didn’t have the energy to argue. Balancing on my good leg, I unlocked the door and pushed it open. The cold air rushed in as I leaned against the doorframe, eyes fixed on the white envelope.
“My name is on it,” I said, spotting the neat block letters: CALEB.
Lana darted past me onto the porch, snatching the envelope before I could protest. She glanced around the yard, then hurried back inside.
“No one’s out there,” she said, closing and locking the door behind her. “At least, no one I could see.”
I lowered myself into a kitchen chair, extending my injured leg with a grimace. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
She handed me the envelope. It was plain white, unsealed. I slid out a single sheet of paper, unfolded it, and began to read aloud:
“Caleb, I know you don’t know me, but I know about you. There’s something hidden on Jake’s property that certainpeople want very badly. If they find it before we do, Jake will lose everything. Meet me at the old mill ruins tomorrow at noon. Come alone. Tell no one else what you’ve found—not even your pretty friend. The walls have ears. —A Friend”
Lana had moved behind me to read over my shoulder. “What the hell does that mean? What’s hidden on Jake’s property?”
“I have no idea,” I said, reading the note again. “But whoever wrote this thinks I’m involved in something I’m not.”
“Or they’re trying to lure you into a trap,” Lana countered, taking the note from my hands to examine it more closely. “This is ridiculous. We should call Ella.”
I shook my head. “And tell her what? That someone’s threatening Jake’s ranch over something we know nothing about? She’s already risking everything to save Nora. We can’t distract her with this.”
“So what do you suggest? Meeting this mysterious ‘friend’ at the mill ruins? You can barely walk!”
I rubbed my jaw, considering our options. “We need more information. Where are these mill ruins? How far from here?”
Lana paced the kitchen, the note still clutched in her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve never been there. Maybe there is a map somewhere in this house.”
“Good thinking.” I gestured toward the living room. “Help me back to the couch first?”
As she slipped under my arm to support my weight, I couldn’t help noticing how naturally we moved together, how easily she adjusted to my awkward gait. “Are you a nurse?’
She laughed. “No, I was an event coordinator for a large company in Toronto.”
“Huh. Could have fooled me,” I said as I plopped down on the couch. I watched as she rummaged through a drawer in a desk that was sitting in the entry hall.
“Found one,” she announced, unfolding a local tourist map. She brought it over and spread it across the coffee table.
We leaned in together, our shoulders touching as we searched for the mill ruins. The contact was distracting, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.
“There,” Lana pointed to a small icon about three miles from our location. “Old Wolf Mill Historic Site.”
I studied the surrounding area on the map. The mill sat near the creek that ran through Jake’s property, accessible by a hiking trail that wound through the woods.
