Chapter 3 #2
Shaking her head, Moriah tried to rid her mind of the images of the man.
In a few hours, she would convince him to leave, then try to figure out what she would do next.
Dan Malone hadn’t run a credit check on her when she rented the cottage from him, nor did he ask her to sign a lease.
She didn’t tell him she wouldn’t be staying long and let him assume she would be around for a while.
No one in Whisper had any idea who she really was.
And no one knew the horror that had taken over her world four short months ago and left her running for her life.
Shit, she missed her family. Don’t think about them. Don’t think about Momma, Susan, and Nicholas. There’s nothing you can do for them now. You’re safe for a few days. Just think about what you’re going to do next and where you’ll go from here.
Moriah glanced at the closed bedroom door and prayed she was safe for now.
Dan Malone straightened up his small kitchen as he waited for the pot of coffee to brew.
His rescued Labrador mix, Jinx, lay across the threshold between the kitchen and living area, waiting patiently.
A combination of at least three breeds, the gentle but protective mutt was the perfect companion for a single, older man.
Approximately six years old, he was completely charcoal black except for the tip of his tail and the area around his muzzle, which were stark white.
As a result of his coloring, the big dog appeared to have a permanent grin.
As a puppy, before he’d found his forever home, his tail had somehow been broken and hung at a crooked angle.
He was very affectionate, and Dan adored his canine sidekick.
The dog never argued with or heckled him like his three nephews enjoyed doing.
Jinx was his best friend in life, and neither would have it any other way.
After the last of his nephews had ventured off into the military, Dan had found the beach house too quiet and moved into the one-bedroom apartment above the hardware store he owned.
He preferred to keep both places exceptionally tidy.
There was never any clutter, and everything was kept in its proper place—a throwback to his Army days, he supposed.
Filling a large thermos with his daily dose of caffeine, which he would take downstairs to the shop, he wondered if KC had arrived at the cottage yet and met Maura. He chuckled, wishing to be a fly on the wall for that encounter. Well, he was sure he’d hear about it soon enough.
He was a true romantic at heart and thought it was about time his three nephews, KC, Brian, and Sean, became ones, too—with a little help on his part, of course.
Dan had lost his only true love at twenty-nine after barely two years of marriage.
Falling hopelessly in love on a blind date, he and Annie eloped after knowing each other for three weeks.
When she was diagnosed with leukemia almost a year later, at the tender age of twenty-four, she’d begged him to leave her.
“This isn’t what you expected or deserved when you married me,” she’d told him.
But Dan had refused to abandon her. They’d spent as much time together as possible, and between his job and her treatments and doctor visits, they’d lived and loved life to the fullest. They’d gone for long walks on the beach and picnics in the park.
He would take her to interesting places he’d heard of or drive them around aimlessly just to see different landscapes.
She’d never been on a plane, and one day, he’d arranged for an army pilot buddy of his to take them up in his private four-passenger aircraft.
She’d been able to experience the thrill of flying above the earth and loved every minute of it.
And he’d loved the smile that had remained on her face for hours after they’d returned home.
Most of the time, though, they’d sat on the porch of the beach house they called home, watching the sunrises and listening to the pounding surf.
He’d cherished every moment with her, greedily storing memories for the future.
And at the end, he’d held his sweet Annie close to his chest as she passed into the afterlife and vowed he would love her always.
In the years following his wife’s death, Dan Malone became known throughout the small community as a collector of strays—animal and human.
He was always bringing home lost or injured animals, much to Jinx’s dismay, despite the dog being a rescued stray himself.
Dan would heal those he could before finding homes for each one of the wayward domesticated animals.
He would release the wild ones back into their habitats once they could survive on their own.
When it came to people, he never met someone in need whom he didn’t try to assist, even if it was only in some small way.
Sometimes, it was buying a meal or giving someone a ride.
Other times, it might involve offering a few dollars to help the individual get by.
Maura Jennings was his new pet project, and in her case, she needed a place to stay.
Dan knew there was more to Maura’s story than what she’d let on.
He had a sixth sense when it came to people like her.
She’d told him she was recovering from an abusive relationship and was looking for a new place to start over.
He suspected, however, there was a lot more she wasn’t telling him.
She appeared to be a strong woman, physically and mentally, and Dan couldn’t believe she would ever allow a man to strike her or abuse her in any manner, at least not after the first time.
Yet, he was a good judge of character and knew whatever she was running from, the young woman needed his help.
For now, he was letting her stay at the cottage and hoped KC would be able to get her to open up to him.
It would probably be therapeutic for both of them.
She needed a protector, and KC needed to focus on something other than his career for a change.
Dan knew his nephew was considering leaving his SEAL team for a stateside position.
Maybe if he had someone waiting for him at home every night, the decision would be easier to make.