Chapter 17
chapter
seventeen
As the morning went on, Millie continued to try to place why Valentina seemed familiar.
Did the woman remind her of someone from her past? A coworker? A neighbor?
No memories clicked into place.
Maybe she was projecting. Trauma had a way of sharpening instincts and making everything look like a threat.
She had gone back into the laundry room to work on a new load when someone appeared in the doorway.
Valentina and Pippa.
“Can I help?” Valentina asked. “I’ve already unpacked, and I need something to do.”
“I’d love that.”
Valentina set Pippa down near her feet. The dog perched neatly, watching Biscuit with nervous eyes.
Biscuit stiffened again.
Millie stepped between them, resting a hand on her dog’s back. “Easy, boy. Easy.”
Biscuit leaned into her leg, but his attention stayed sharp.
Valentina smiled and picked up a blanket to fold. “He’s very loyal.”
“He is.”
The woman’s gaze lifted again, meeting Millie’s. Something flickered there.
Whatever the emotion was, it was gone almost as soon as it appeared.
Or was she imagining things?
“So, how long have you been here?” Valentina asked as she picked up a shirt.
“Not long. This is my second day.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “I see. I was pretty apprehensive about coming. I almost changed my mind several times.”
“Me too. I’m guessing that’s normal.”
“Probably.” Valentina paused. “Is it just the two of us?”
“No, there’s another woman. Sissy. I’m sure you’ll meet her later.”
They worked for several minutes in silence.
Millie wanted to ask questions, but she knew they’d seem too personal. It was better if the residents here didn’t know too much about each other . . . right?
But she wanted to know where Valentina was from. Who she was fleeing from. How she’d heard about Refuge Cove.
She kept the questions quiet . . . for now.
She didn’t want to let her emotions and fear dictate her actions.
For a moment, the room felt smaller. The steady hum of the dryer seemed louder. The house’s easy rhythm faltered, just slightly, like a skipped beat.
Millie focused on the towels in front of her, smoothing the edges, stacking them square. She told herself this was nothing. Just her nerves talking.
But the uneasy feeling lingered.
For the first time since she’d arrived at Refuge Cove, Millie realized she was no longer listening for danger outside the walls.
She was watching for it inside.
Caleb pulled his gloves tighter and dragged the rake to the edge of the drive, pulling dried leaves into a long, satisfying line.
He worked methodically, breath steady, shoulders still tight.
On occasion, he paused and looked up, scanning the sky.
Nothing moved.
He hadn’t seen the drone again, but every time he blinked and opened his eyes, he thought he saw it hovering.
Footsteps crunched behind him.
Caleb straightened, smoothing the edge of his surprise before it could show.
He turned and found Millie standing a few feet away, jacket zipped, hands tucked into her sleeves. Biscuit lingered at her side, watchful. She held a rake in her hands.
His throat went dry at the sight of her, and he instantly scolded himself for the reaction. This wasn’t the time to be attracted to her—especially not when she was a guest here.
But it was hard. She was so beautiful and lovable, and he desperately wanted a do-over. He wanted to believe their paths had crossed again for a reason.
And they had—so he could keep her safe.
That was what he needed to keep in mind.
He cleared his thoughts and nodded toward the rake. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve got it.”
She glanced at the rake, then at the piles of leaves around them. “Looks like you could use help.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I need something to do. I’m finished with the laundry. You need help. There’s only one thing that makes sense right now.”
Caleb watched as she began gathering leaves into a pile. She worked quietly, efficient without rushing. He fell into step beside her without comment.
They cleared a section of the backyard in mere minutes, scrapes and crunches filling the space between them.
“So . . . your brother stopped by yesterday,” Millie started.
Caleb threw her a surprised glance. “How did you know?”
“I was in the kitchen and overheard part of the conversation. I promise I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”
His lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m sorry about that. We should have kept our voices down.”
“It sounds like the county is giving you problems.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d say problems. The truth is, there are people around here who don’t like us.”
“Why wouldn’t they like you?”
He paused and let out a deep breath, wondering how much to share.
“Let’s just say that my sister’s husband was a powerful man.
When my family took ownership of this property after his arrest, he wasn’t happy.
He has a lot of contacts and friends who are on his side, who think he was cheated out of this property, that we stole it from him and slandered his good name. They don’t know the whole story.”
“Wow . . . that’s a lot.” She leaned on the rake, her head tilted toward it and the light catching her gaze.
His throat went dry at the sight of her.
She was so beautiful as she stood there in an eggplant-colored shirt, her khaki jacket, and a beige knit hat on her head. The best part was that it was effortless. She didn’t even try to get attention.
She was just a natural.
He forced his gaze away and paused. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped it on you.”
“Don’t apologize. And don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s nice sometimes to hear about other people’s problems. It puts your own in perspective.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
They worked another stretch in silence.
As they did, Caleb peered up on occasion to study her.
Millie had always been a hard worker. Back when they’d dated, she’d been a grants manager for a federal agency—something with social services, he thought. She’d administered funding programs, reviewed applications, monitored compliance.
He remembered thinking it seemed too buttoned-up for someone who loved adventure, but she’d been pragmatic. “A government job means I can actually pay my bills and take vacations,” she’d said with a laugh.
But there’d been more to it. She’d genuinely cared about making sure funding reached the organizations that needed it most.
“Someone has to make sure these programs actually help people,” she’d added. “Might as well be me.”
She deserved much better than what life had handed her.
Caleb would do everything in his power to help her make a good life for herself—one that was away from fear and danger.