I’d forgotten the bigness of Wyoming’s wilderness. The vast saffron plains that spread endlessly. The scabrous viridian-swathed mountains that stretched limitlessly tall. The lightless midnights that boasted the galaxy’s trove of stars. But the storms ...
I’d forgotten more how summer thunderstorms rolled in at the end of every day like a curtain call of thunderous applause shearing the sky’s serenity. Last night’s storm hadn’t woken me, but instead kept me company, its tumultuous trembling equal to the turmoil of my thoughts.
My sister was missing. Maybe she was in the park. Maybe she was okay.
Maybe she wasn’t.
Worries deluged into fear.What if I was too late? What if I hadn’t done enough? What if I lost her for all the reasons I’d lost Ian?
Twelve years from now, I’d still lie awake at night searching for all the signs I’d missed. All the things I could’ve done. All the ways I’d failed Ian Mercer as his doctor that day.All the ways I worried I was now going to fail my sister.
There was no escaping the feeling of helplessness that snapped taut like a tether twining my past to my present. It was why I’d been desperate to go with Calder to the park.
I needed to be part of this. I needed to be doing something to save her. And maybe ... just a little bit ... I needed Calder’s steadiness to hold on to my sanity.
The sound of tires on gravel caught my attention, and I checked my phone.Eight o’clock on the dot.
I pushed off the hood of my rental as a black F-350 drove through the diner’s parking lot and stopped behind the Toyota.
The window rolled down, revealing the same grim expression Calder had left with yesterday.And the same rush of heat I felt every time I saw him, grim faced or not.
“Good morning.” The straight seal of his lips twitched.
“Morning,” I greeted, holding his gaze for a second before I looked away.
Calder was nothing if not perceptive, and I didn’t want him to see the dark circles around my eyes, because there was a strong chance he wouldn’t just see exhaustion under my eyes, but the emotional evisceration that had caused it. I couldn’t afford to give him more ammunition for why I shouldn’t be going with him today.
“Ready? We’ll take my truck.”
My eyes cut back to him, his eyes narrowed enough to unnerve me. “Yeah, I just want to grab another coffee before we go.”
I’d already had one cup before leaving the Betty B and B that morning, but I needed more. Preferably poured directly into my sleep-deprived eyes, but the usual absorption method would have to do.
“Lara,” Calder called, stopping me before I even turned. “I made you a French press.”
He held up a travel mug from inside the cab, and my jaw went slack.He’d brought me coffee?
My exhausted emotions tangled further. That was Calder. Honorable to a fault. Thoughtful to a fault.Even when frustrated with me.It was hard to both admire and abhor qualities that in this momentmade me feel warm and protected, but a dozen years ago had torn my sister’s heart apart.
In spite of all my anxieties last night, Calder hadn’t been one of them. I hadn’t worried that he wasn’t going to show up this morning. I hadn’t worried that he’d go to the park without me. I hadn’t worried because he’d given me his word, which was as unbreakable as stone. Literally.
There was only one worry I had about him. One thing that had woken me for different reasons and consumed my mind like a fever dream: the way my body responded when Calder was near and the way I fantasized about him when he wasn’t.
Calder cleared his throat, bringing me back to the moment. “I like Ron, but their coffee isn’t as good as mine.”
No, I imagined with all his gadgets and timers, it wasn’t.
“Got it.”
I locked my rental and rounded Calder’s truck, climbing into the passenger seat.
With my purse in my lap, I buckled in, noting the back seat was taken up with utility duffel bags; only the first aid bag, red with a white cross, was readily distinguishable, though I could hazard a few educated guesses as to the kinds of survival gear in the others.
“Which one is mine?” I asked, pointing to the two travel cups in the console.
“Back one.” Calder spun the wheel and steered out of the lot.
Dorsal venous arch. Dorsal metacarpal veins.
