Page 50 of Left Cold, Wolf Owned
I watch her wrap both hands around the mug, which she has done every single morning since the first one, as if warmth is something she's still catching up on, and feel the bond with aweight that is new, even after some time of carrying it. Deeper. More settled. Rooted in a way it wasn't yesterday.
She looks up and catches me watching and smiles—small and real, the kind that reaches her eyes without her deciding to let it—and I pick up my coffee and look out the window.
My phone buzzes on the table.
Mateo. One line.
Need to talk. Soon.
I look at it for a moment, then at Harper, who has opened her notebook and is already writing something with the focused quiet that means she's in her own head and content to be there.
I pocket the phone.
One more hour. I'll give her one more hour of the morning before the rest of it arrives.
She goesto find Lila mid-morning, the two of them picking up whatever project they're in the middle of—I'd watched them head toward the far end of the lodge together, Harper still holding her second cup of coffee and laughing at something Lila had said with unguarded ease.
I watch her until she disappears through the lodge door.
Then I step outside and call Mateo.
He picks up on the first ring, which tells me he's been waiting.
"Tell me," I open, before he can say anything.
"Private investigators," he tells me, and the words land with a weight that matches the tone I've heard coming off him for the past two days. "At least two of them, working out of the towns east and south. They're not asking about the mountain specifically, but they're asking about a woman in a wedding dress seen near the mountain roads." A pause. "Logan, someoneremembered her car. White Subaru pulled onto the shoulder of the south road. They've got a description and a direction."
I press my free hand flat against the cabin wall and breathe through it.
"How close?" I press.
"Close enough that it's time to stop calling it distant," Mateo tells me. "They're systematic. They're working toward us."
"Dawson," I state.
"Has to be. The press coverage died down enough that this isn't media anymore. Someone hired people specifically to find her." Another pause. "He's not letting it go."
I think about Harper in the lodge with Lila, organizing something, making herself useful in the uncomplicated way she always does. I think about the way she'd saidyeah, actually yeahthis morning—the surprised relief in it, the specific sound of someone who'd been waiting to feel okay and has discovered she does.
"I need a meeting," I tell him. "Full pack. This afternoon."
"I'll set it up," he replies. "What about Harper?"
"I'll have Lila keep her occupied," I tell him. "She doesn't need to be in this one yet. I don't want her to feel the walls closing in before I understand exactly how close they are."
GettingLila alone requires some maneuvering, since Harper has been working alongside her most mornings. I wait until Harper steps out to find Garrett about a parts order she'd flagged in the records, and I cross to the clinic and close the door quietly behind me.
Lila sets down her clipboard before I've said a word.
"What do you need?" she prompts.
"Two hours this afternoon with Harper," I tell her. "Somewhere away from the lodge. The eastern supply cache, theouter trail, or anywhere she'll have something useful to do." I keep my voice even. "I need to run a meeting she can't be part of yet."
Lila doesn't push for details. She nods, reading my face the way she reads everything in her clinic—practically, accurately, without making it bigger than it needs to be right now. "I'll take her to check the eastern cache. She's been asking about the outer property anyway." A pause. "How close is it getting?"
"Close enough," I confirm. "Don't say anything to her."
"I won't." She picks the clipboard back up. "Go do what you need to do."
