Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Noah

I held Ella's hand, surprised that she was letting me, but I kept my wonder to myself. This was my chance to protect her.

My brother nodded to the door. "I'm going to check the house. Why don't you go outside and check why the power is off?"

"Will do. Come on," I said to Ella.

She followed me, keeping her hand in mine.

With my gun at the ready, I led her outside. As if on cue, the wind kicked up and rain poured on us.

I let go of her hand. "Stay close. I'm going to the power box."

She nodded, and I could sense her right behind me as I skirted the outside of the house and made my way around through the yard. I'd been to this house a million times as a kid; I knew it as well as my own.

When we reached the power box, I was surprised to find it already open with the lock hanging from it.

"What in the heck?" Ella asked.

Movement shifted in my periphery. A figure was running. Someone in a black mask.

Ella must've seen him too, because she pointed. "There!"

I didn't want to shoot him in cold blood, so I took off after him. He had barely reached the tree line. If it weren't for the rain and mud, I'd be on him in a few strides.

I glanced behind me; Ella was hurrying to keep up. "Stay back."

A sound cracked through the air. A gunshot.

Acting purely on instinct, I grabbed Ella and threw myself to the ground, rolling with her to protect her from getting hurt.

There was another gunshot, but the bullet didn't come anywhere near us. The guy hadn't aimed this shot at all; he was just trying to get away. The storm was worsening quickly enough that I knew we wouldn't catch him.

McCrae hurried around the corner and met up with us. "Are you okay?"

I nodded and helped Ella up. Could another officer catch the man? He had been running for the road. If he had a car, he could probably get out of town before anyone blocked it off.

I put my arm around Ella, and the three of us made our way back inside. The power box had been completely cut, so there was no way to restore power tonight. McCrae was on the phone, talking to different people about how they could catch whoever had shot at us.

I turned to her. "Either I'm staying here with you in your house with no power, or you're coming to my place."

She shivered, looking around at the darkness. "Let's go to your place."

McCrae got off the phone. "Damon is asking the Cheyenne and Fort Collins police stations to look for anyone coming from here that might have something to do with this."

"How would they do that?" Ella asked.

"Basically, they'll get pulled over if they are speeding." He shrugged. "But whoever did this has a jump on everyone with the weather and the quick access to the road. It's too bad, but we probably won't find them."

It felt hopeless, but I was grateful Ella was next to me. Probably too grateful. I was relieved that none of us had been shot, and I felt a little pride knowing she'd come to me for help.

McCrae looked between us. "I assume you're going over to his house tonight," he said to Ella. "There's nothing to do here, but I will need both of you down at the station in the morning for your statements."

We both nodded.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course." McCrae brandished his flashlight, ready to light our way out of the house.

Ella paused, staring at the little table next to a chair. "What is that?" she asked, rushing toward a picture frame.

Adrenaline spiked through me. The last time someone had broken in, she'd thought they'd left a picture.

McCrae shined his light on a little framed photo of her and Greg.

"How did this get here?" Ella asked, looking around wildly and holding the picture to her chest.

I put my arms around her, feeling protective. My eyes peered into the darkness, even though the perp was no longer there.

McCrae spoke calmly. "I don't think anyone is here right now. Do you think they left that earlier?"

She started shaking. "This wasn't here before."

I stared down at the picture. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure. I don't know who is doing this, but it feels personal."

We walked outside and locked the door just as another police car was arriving. I hated that I wasn't sure who'd been here and what they wanted. They'd been dangerous enough to turn off the power. None of this felt right.

We said goodbye to McCrae, who was now talking with other police officers I didn't recognize. The ride to the Whipple cabin was quiet, with her only staring at the picture.

At home, I offered her a pair of my sweats and a T-shirt so she could change.

She looked disoriented, putting the picture on the bedside table. "I should've grabbed some clothes."

I waved her into the bathroom. "There's a lot going on tonight. Don't worry about it. I'll get the guest room ready for you."

She disappeared, and I kept myself busy picking the sheets up off the dresser and making the bed. Nervousness pulsed through me, knowing I would have to sleep close to her.

I finished just as she came out, and she looked oh so good in my clothes. I glanced at her and then looked away, trying not to fall back into all my old feelings for her. "You can sleep in here. I'm going to find a sleeping bag and just sleep next to your bed."

"No. You can't do that."

"We got shot at tonight. I'm not leaving you."

She wrapped her arms around herself. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I won't sleep well unless I'm close."

Our eyes met again, and I could see her fear.

I sat on the bed beside her. "Are you okay?"

She pointed at the picture. "How did that get into the house?"

Of course, I believed her when she said it hadn't been there before, but I had no answers. "Who else had that picture?"

She frowned, then shook her head. "Honestly, no one. My grandmother had all the pictures. I mean, I didn't even realize Grandma had so many of them until I inherited the house."

"But that wasn't one of her pictures?"

"I'm not sure." She frowned. "I haven't seen it in a long time. I don't have any pictures up. I've been remodeling."

I stared at the picture of her whole family in front of the lake house. Her mother, her father, her brother, both of her grandparents. "I noticed that."

"The fact that someone found that picture or brought it into the house, then put it on that table … it's just creepy."

I cleared my throat. "Do you think your ex would have done that?"

She considered it, then shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't seem like the type of thing he would do, but I honestly have no idea."

"Do you think it was Clint?"

She shook her head. "I think Clint really liked me in a stalker type of way, but I don't know why he would put up pictures of my family."

We sat in silence for a minute, pondering the situation.

Finally, I dared to put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry you're going through this."

She looked at my hand, then my eyes. The chemistry between us returned in full force. "Thank you," she said quietly.

I stood, feeling nervous, then moved to the hallway and rummaged through a closet for a sleeping bag. "I'm just going to grab a pillow from the other bed."

By the time I got back to the guest bedroom, she was under the covers. There was a little light on in the corner. I turned off the main light and laid the sleeping bag next to her side of the bed. I tried to get comfortable, or at least as comfortable as a person could be on a sleeping bag. I'd slept in worse places.

"I can take the sleeping bag," she said, as if reading my thoughts.

"Not a chance."

Silence settled over us. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep, so I just lay there, looking out the window. The storm was still coming down, but there was a backup light on the Whipple cabin, and it reflected into the room. I would've shut the curtain, but I liked light.

"Noah?"

"Yes?"

For a minute, she didn't say anything. Then the bed creaked, followed by a soft sob.

I sat up, alarmed. "Ella?"

She turned to me. "I'm sorry. I should've forgiven you a long time ago. And then tonight, when that guy shot at us and you grabbed me and pulled me down and there was another shot, all I could think about was how I might lose you. And it's not like I didn't lose you a long time ago because of my own stupidity. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Those words triggered something inside me. I got up and sat beside her on the bed, pulling her against me. "Of course I forgive you."

Her body shook as she cried. I kissed her head and rubbed circles into her back, murmuring comforting, nonsensical words into her ear.

I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear those words. The years had gone by, and I'd let the hollowness inside of me slowly take over. There was no doubt I needed this woman. Her touch and her forgiveness made my world of black and white turn to vivid color.

My eyes wandered to her lips. I longed to kiss her, but I didn't want to ruin anything. "I forgave you the moment it all happened. The moment you said you hated me, I forgave you. I could never be angry with you. I could never hold anything against you."

"Don't say that. That makes it worse." She pushed against my chest, tears streaming down her face. "I don't deserve it. My heart's been so hard against you. I'm so stupid. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," I said, grateful to finally have this discussion.

"It's not. I took all the pain of losing my brother and blamed you. That's not okay." She sniffed. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't … my fault. It was an accident."

She stopped, and her eyes widened. As if she was surprised by her own words.

"It was an accident, but it's okay. I have you in my arms now." I held her for a long time, and I knew I would never forget this moment. I would fight to keep her in my arms forever.