Chapter 9

9

Caleb lay awake on the couch, watching the dance of the fire grow dimmer.

Dolly wasn't in her usual place at his feet. She'd scaled the steps he'd built for her and joined Grace in the loft. He hadn't stopped her. It comforted him to know Dolly was at her side when he couldn't be. Perhaps she sensed what Grace had been through and wanted to make sure she was safe. Seeing the marks on Grace's cheeks, the tremble in her hands when he offered her help, it wouldn't have surprised him if Dolly sensed a kindred spirit, one who had survived the wars and lived to tell the tale.

As the clock on the mantle ticked onward, his restlessness grew. Sleep eluded him, his mind plagued by the events of the evening. With a sigh, he rose from the couch, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. Dressing, he retrieved his rifle from his gun safe and stepped out into the chilly night.

Outside, the night enveloped his cabin like a shroud, the air heavy with the scent of pine and the distant murmur of the forest. Dolly's absence at his feet was a subtle reminder of Grace's presence upstairs.

The moon hung like a silver coin in the sky as he moved with silent purpose, his senses heightened as he conducted a perimeter check around the house. The rustle of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl—every sound seemed magnified in the night's stillness.

His thoughts drifted to Grace, and the fear that had lingered in her eyes. Whatever she was running from, it wasn't ordinary. He'd seen fear like that in people's eyes too often during his time as a SEAL. Memories of dusty villages in Afghanistan flooded his mind, the haunted expressions of the women and children etched forever in his memory. It had driven his retirement from the forces. You couldn't look at that kind of fear every day without it corroding your soul.

Returning to the warmth of his cabin, relief washed over him. For now, they were safe. He secured the door and reactivated the alarm before retreating to the couch. Fully dressed, his gun within reach, he wrapped himself in a blanket.

A semblance of peace swathed him.

Whatever challenges the morning might bring, he was ready.