by Katie Ruggle
As she reached for the front doorknob, her hand paused. Was she being dumb? Were her nerves jangling a warning because she’d been too sheltered in Texas, or were her instincts warning her of some real danger? A surge of anger at her father and Aaron zapped through her. It wasn’t normal for someone her age—an adult—to be so anxious about going for a walk alone. The sun would be rising soon, and her stomach was still turning somersaults at the thought of stepping outside.
Her resentment blazed through her, warming her and pushing her through the doorway. Once she was on the porch, she paused again, taking in her surroundings. The night was cold, the wind whipping around her. The evergreens surrounding the property shadowed the yard, making everything look even darker.
Now that she was actually outside, Sarah wasn’t sure where to walk. She glanced at the forest and immediately shivered. There was no way she was going to wander around the dark woods. She might be naive and sheltered, but she wasn’t dumb. The only other option was walking down the driveway, so she descended the porch steps and set off along the narrow dirt path.
As she followed it through the woods, she was tempted to turn around and return to the safety of the house. Sheer stubbornness kept her feet moving.
“I’ll walk to the end of the driveway,” she muttered to herself, her words sounding loud despite the howling wind. The sound of her voice gave her courage, though, and her pace picked up. She’d get to the street, turn around, and head back to the house. No one would even know she’d gone.
The thought was supposed to be reassuring, but she crossed her arms over her stomach. What if Aaron found her? He could snatch her right off the road, and no one would ever know what had happened. She should’ve left a note, or taken a buddy, or done anything except walking by herself before the sun was even up.
Stop, she ordered her overactive brain. All she was doing was scaring herself. If she locked herself inside because she was too afraid of Aaron tracking her down, she should’ve stayed in Texas. It made no sense to create a new prison when she’d just escaped one. Despite her fear, she needed to live.
As she mentally argued with herself, she rounded the last curve of the driveway. In the gray morning light, she could see the silhouette of the mailbox, which listed so far to the right it seemed that one heavy envelope would send it crashing to the ground. The ramshackle homeyness of it made Sarah smile. She’d seen too many attempts at perfection in her old life. Here in Monroe, she was quickly falling in love with every shabby detail about the mountain town.
With every step, she gained confidence, especially since the sky was lightening in the east. Instead of returning to the house once she reached the end of the driveway, she turned left and headed into town. Sarah was used to isolation. Her father’s—and then her brother’s—house was centered on hundreds of acres, as were all the neighboring houses. Monroe, on the other hand, was cluttered and charming, the homes getting closer and closer together the nearer she got to the center of town.
It was cute and felt welcoming, and Sarah wished she could stay, could make her home in Monroe, but she knew that wasn’t realistic. She had to be careful not to get too attached to the place or the people, since she needed to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice if Aaron found her.
When Aaron finds me, she mentally amended. What Aaron wanted, he took, no matter how much others were hurt. He’d always been that way. She swallowed a bitter laugh. Nice family I ha—
A dark shape stood in the middle of the road.
Startled, Sarah sucked in a nearly silent breath and stopped, peering through the gloom. She couldn’t tell who it was—or even if it was human. Whatever it was, though, it was moving closer to her. She took an abrupt step backward, wondering if she should turn and run. The thing got closer, looking larger and larger, and Sarah was rooted in place with fear. What on earth was it? It wasn’t human, she was pretty sure now, and it was too big to be a dog.
A part of her wanted to bolt away from it, but she hesitated. It was the size of a horse or cow, and not bulky enough to be a bear. Since it most likely wasn’t anything that would rip her head off, she made herself stand still. After all, how silly would she feel if she ran from a gentle farm animal? It moved closer to her, until finally it was near enough that she could see it more clearly.
All the tension seeped out of her, and her body sagged. It looked like a deer of some sort, with a rack of impressive antlers. It wasn’t Aaron, wasn’t anyone from her old life. It was just a four-legged woodland creature, and a harmless one at that—at least, she was pretty sure it was harmless.
Its head came up, and she froze again. Sarah was almost certain that it wouldn’t hurt her, that it only ate grass and other green stuff that didn’t include transplanted Texans. At the thought, Sarah gave a nervous giggle, and the animal’s head rose even higher. Its mouth opened, and the strangest sound came out. It was like a loud, high-pitched whistle with a grunt at the end. Sarah stared at it, amazed.
An answering whistle-grunt came from behind her, and Sarah whirled around. Another of the deer-looking things was approaching her from the other direction. She could see its rounded muzzle and the way the fur darkened on its legs and neck. They were elk, she realized, remembering images from TV. She should’ve figured it out earlier, but they looked so different in real life.
The wind died for a minute, and silence settled over the street, broken only by a strange hissing noise. Sarah looked back and forth between the two elk, her body turned so that she could see them both, and she realized that the hissing was coming from the one to her right. She had a feeling that it wasn’t a good omen.
The one on her left bugled again, making her jump. She started backing toward the side of the road, but a tall wooden fence blocked her escape route. The elk were getting closer and closer to each other—and to her. The road was narrow, and there was little room on either side of the elk to slip past. Sarah gave the fence behind her a nervous glance, wondering if she could climb it. It looked smooth and tall, with no available handholds. Unless she turned into Spider-Man in the next five seconds, scaling the fence was out.
The bulls were close now, so close that she could smell their wild-animal musk. One bugled, and she leapt back, smacking her shoulder blades against the fence. She didn’t know much about elk, but she had a pretty strong suspicion that the two were about to fight—and she was right in the middle of their battlefield. She started to shift sideways, trying not to catch their attention, when the two ran at each other, their heads lowered.
Their antlers crashed together, the sound ringing through the silent morning, and Sarah couldn’t hold back a yelp. The fence felt unyielding behind her, and her gaze darted around, looking for an escape route. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her new cell phone or a bullhorn or something? The houses were all dark, and Sarah didn’t know if they were empty or if the residents were just sleeping, unfazed by the sound of fighting elk.
At the end of the fence line was a slightly sagging carport, but she’d have to run right past the elk to get to it. Besides, it didn’t look like it’d be much protection, unless she managed to get on top of it, and she wasn’t sure how she’d accomplish that. Maybe she’d be better off sticking next to the fence and hoping that this wildlife nightmare ended quickly.
The elk, each struggling to hold his ground, pressed their antlers together and skittered sideways—right toward Sarah. Her indrawn breath would’ve been a scream if she’d let it. Before she even knew what she planned to do, her legs were moving. She dodged the elk, trying not to notice how close they were, how loud their grunts and whistles were, how strong their smell had gotten, how close she was to being trampled, and made a beeline toward an ancient-looking car parked next to the carport. Jumping onto the trunk, she ran to the roof of the car, reaching it just as the bull elk smashed their antlers together again with a thunderous crash.
One elk seemed to have the upper hand and
was driving the other backward—right toward the car she was on. Grabbing the edge of the carport roof, Sarah thought of her frantic escape less than a week ago. If she could climb onto the huge, steep, slick roof of her former home, then she could most definitely climb this. Boosting herself up, she scrambled off the car roof and onto the carport, ignoring the way her knees burned as they rubbed against the asphalt shingles. Even through two pairs of pants, she knew they were scraped.
Air dragged in and out of her lungs as she twisted around, half expecting the elk to give up their fight for dominance and run directly at her hiding spot. When she spotted them, though, she saw they were still focused on each other. Her arms started trembling, and she lowered herself to sit on the roof.
The antlers hit together again, the sound of the crash echoing around the sleeping town. One elk drove the other back and sideways, right toward the carport—and Sarah’s hiding place. The losing elk swung his haunches at the last moment before he ran into the car, and his massive hip struck one of the support beams.
The carport shook, and Sarah clung to the edge of the roof as the entire structure vibrated. It didn’t look very structurally sound, and she wondered if it was going to collapse on top of the elk—bringing her down with it. She couldn’t imagine which would hurt worse—the fall or the elk trampling her.
To her surprised relief, the carport stood despite the blow, and the losing elk ducked away, moving back to the center of the road before he turned to face the winner again. The bigger one followed, taking three running steps toward the other elk. Sarah braced, ready for the next crash of colliding antlers, but the first one dodged. The two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before the winner bugled loudly.
The defeated bull finally turned and trotted down the road. The elk remaining gave a final bugle, staring after the retreating bull. His sides steamed with heat in the chilly air, and he stood as still as a statue until Sarah began to think he’d never leave. She was going to be stuck on the carport for the rest of her life.
Eventually, though, he turned in the opposite direction and moved slowly away, finally disappearing between two houses. Sarah watched him until he was out of sight.
Even with both elk gone, she didn’t want to get off the garage, just in case they came back. Bending her legs, she drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Suddenly, she felt very alone on her rooftop perch, here in this strange, cold mountain town where wildlife fought in the street. Tears pressed against her eyes, wanting release, but she forced them back. Crying wouldn’t help. She needed to get off the roof and walk home, but her limbs felt shaky and useless. What if they came back? What if there was an entire herd right around the corner, waiting to stampede her to death? What if there was something worse?
Sarah knew she was being silly, that anyone else would’ve been thrilled to be that close to nature, but she couldn’t stop playing out the worst-case scenarios in her head. The wind seemed stronger up on the roof, and Sarah didn’t want to move. If she tried to stand, she was afraid that she’d be blown right off the edge.
A different sound caught her attention, and she went still, straining her ears. It was a car engine, she realized, and a new type of panic rose out of the ashes of her fear. Had Aaron found her?
Even as the logical part of her brain reminded her that the car could be driven by many other people, she rose to a crouch, frantically trying to decide whether she should jump down from the roof and run or stay still and hope that the person—please don’t be Aaron—drove by without seeing her.
A car turned onto the street, and her heart sank even further when she saw the light bar on top of the vehicle. Logan was a police officer. Had Aaron sent him after her? During that horrible dinner, Judd had mentioned that Logan had contacts. Did they include anyone at the Monroe Police Department?
As her brain raced, she’d frozen for a few seconds, long enough for the squad car to pull up to the curb in front of the carport. It was too late to run and pointless to hide. As close as the squad car was, the cop had to have seen her on the carport. A strong gust of wind pushed her off-balance, and Sarah sat abruptly. There might be no escaping him, but at least she wouldn’t be blown off the roof.
As the police officer swung open the driver’s door and got out, unfolding his large frame, Sarah felt her throat tightening. It was Otto, the tall, burly cop she’d met after she’d just arrived, the one who was so terrifyingly handsome that it was a struggle to look at him—like a cross between a Viking and a lumberjack. The one who’d watched her steadily and silently with light-blue eyes until he’d quietly left her room. The way he’d looked at her made her illogically worried that he could read all of her secrets and was just waiting for her to confess.
Once Grace had introduced him as a cop, Sarah had sealed her lips together, afraid that something incriminating would tumble out of her mouth. It didn’t matter that she’d done nothing wrong, that she was an adult and legally couldn’t be forced to stay with her brother—much less marry creepy Logan. There was something about him that still made her…not nervous, but jittery. No, she thought, jittery isn’t right, either. He made her feel too aware of him.
He immediately looked up at her, confirming her suspicion that he’d known she was on the roof even before he pulled up. As he walked closer, he held her gaze, silently as he had before. Rather than ordering her off the roof or yelling at her to get down, as she’d expected, he circled around to the side of the carport. Instead of climbing on the car, as she had, he reached up and grasped the edge of the roof and hauled himself up with an ease that Sarah envied. Once he was up, he sat a few feet away from her.
She eyed his profile as he looked out over the street. What was he doing? If he was going to arrest her, to take her into custody and hand her over to Logan, she wished he’d just get it over with. Sitting next to him, waiting for him to do something, was making her muscles painfully tight.
When he hadn’t said anything for several minutes, Sarah knew she had to break the silence. If one of them didn’t talk, her head was going to pop like an overinflated tire.
“Sorry.” The word came out too softly, and it squeaked in the middle. “There were elk.”
He turned his head to look at her.
“They were fighting?” Clearing her throat, she tried to make her words sound more definite. It was hard, though. His continued silence was freaking her out. “I was afraid of getting caught in the middle, so I climbed up here. Did someone call you?”
His chin dipped down in a nod. Even though he hadn’t actually said anything out loud, the gesture was a huge relief.
“I was going to get down, but I was worried they’d come back. Then I heard your car engine, and…well, you arrived.”
It was a weak finish, she knew, but there was no way to explain her terror at hearing a car, not without telling him too much about her former life. After all, she still didn’t know if he was one of Logan’s contacts. Even if he wasn’t, if a fellow cop arrived and said something awful—like that she wasn’t mentally sound or that she’d committed a crime—Otto would believe the police officer over some woman he’d just met. Sarah had been sheltered, but she’d read books and watched TV. She knew that cops were loyal to each other.
“Is it strange?” Now that she’d started talking, she didn’t want to return to that unnerving silence, the one that made her think he was reading her thoughts with some magical, gorgeous-cop superpower. He cocked his head slightly, as if in question. “Strange that the elk are in town, fighting in the middle of the street? I’m new to the mountains, but it seems weird to me. I mean, squirrels can hang out in town, or rabbits, but elk right here next to all these houses? That seems wrong.”
His lips twitched in something that might have been a start of a smile. There was another pause, long enough for Sarah to think he wasn’t going to answer. Was this some strange interrogation technique? He refus
ed to talk until she spilled all of her secrets? If so, it was surprisingly effective. His silence made her want to open her mouth and let everything inside her head spill out. Quickly, she sealed her lips together. Sharing her thoughts with this cop would be dangerous—very, very dangerous.
He cleared his throat and she jumped. “It’s not strange. Not here, at least.” His voice was a bass rumble, not loud but big and full. It fit him.
“Oh.” Relief flowed through her when he finally spoke. For some reason, hearing his voice made her warm and brought that same not-quite-jittery feeling she’d experienced before. Not able to hold his gaze, she glanced down at his car. “I probably should’ve just stayed where I was, then. If it’s normal and all. Those antlers crashing together were just very…loud.”
There was another pause, although it wasn’t quite so long this time. “You were smart to move out of the way.”
“Good. I mean, thank you.” Silence settled over them again. “Why are you here, then?”
“We got a call that you were up here.” He met her gaze, and she couldn’t manage to look away. “I, ah, wanted to make sure you were okay.”
It wasn’t what she’d expected, and it wasn’t what she was used to. No one ever worried that she was okay. His concern sparked a warm glow in her belly. She smiled, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Thank you. I’m okay.”
His eyes snapped back to hers. “Good.” There was a short silence. “Do you need help to get down?”
“Yes, please.” She glanced at the ground below. Now that the scare was over, she wouldn’t feel right climbing onto the car, and it was a long drop for her five-foot-nothing self. “Just a hand down, though. Don’t call the fire department or anything. That could be embarrassing.”
His mouth quirked again. “I won’t.”
