Chapter 38
chapter
thirty-eight
Ever since the almost-kiss last night, Caleb had done his best to keep his distance from Millie.
It wasn’t easy.
This morning, every time he’d seen her across the room or caught a glimpse of her helping in the kitchen or heard her voice drifting from the common area, something in his chest tightened.
But she’d been avoiding him too.
Maybe that was for the best.
After breakfast, he’d thrown himself into work—checking the perimeter fence, reviewing security footage, coordinating with Max about supply runs. Anything to keep his mind occupied.
There had been no more incidents at the Cove. No strange sounds in the night. No suspicious activity on the cameras.
So far, the sheriff’s office didn’t have any updates. Sutherland had called earlier to say they were still processing evidence from the scene, still interviewing potential witnesses. Translation: They had nothing.
At the moment, Caleb stood in the barn, organizing tools that didn’t really need organizing, when his phone buzzed.
He pulled it out, half-expecting another non-update from Sutherland.
Instead, it was a text from Jake.
Checked out your guy. Garrick Anderson. Confirmed he’s in DC. Spotted him at the courthouse yesterday then at lunch at The Capital Grille. Want me to continue keeping tabs?
Caleb exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.
He typed back.
Appreciate it. Keep an eye on him for a few more days if you can. Let me know if he goes anywhere unexpected.
You got it. Everything okay?
Yeah. Just being cautious.
Roger that. Stay safe, brother.
Caleb pocketed his phone and leaned against the workbench, rubbing a hand over his face.
So Garrick was in DC. His calendar hadn’t been a decoy.
That should have made Caleb feel better.
It did, mostly.
But it also meant the threat to Millie—whatever it was—might not be as immediate as he’d feared. And that left him with a different problem.
The memory of her sitting in front of the fire. The way she’d looked at him. The warmth of her hand on his cheek.
He’d wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt.
And she’d wanted it too. He’d seen it in her eyes.
But then Sissy had come downstairs, and the moment shattered like glass.
Maybe it was better that way.
Millie was here as a guest. She was a woman in need of protection. A woman who’d been through unimaginable trauma.
The last thing she needed was Caleb complicating her life.
Even if part of him—some deep, stubborn part—had never stopped loving her.
He pushed off the workbench and grabbed a broom, sweeping the barn floor with more force than necessary.
Boundaries.
That was what Millie needed.
And that was what Caleb would give her.
Even if it killed him.
“I really appreciate you doing this.” Naomi leaned against the doorframe of the small office and peered at Millie. “We’ve been trying to secure funding for months, but none of us have experience with grant writing.”
Millie had offered to help with finding some grants for the shelter. There was no better time than now.
“I’m glad I can try to help,” Millie said as she settled into the desk chair, Biscuit at her feet. “As long as my name stays off everything, of course.”
“Of course.” Naomi’s expression softened with understanding. “We’ll list it as written by Refuge Cove staff. No one will know you were involved.”
Millie nodded, relief easing some of the tension in her shoulders. “Then let’s see what we can do.”
After Naomi left, Millie turned to the computer and began her research.
She started with foundations that supported women’s shelters and domestic violence prevention programs. Then moved to state and federal grants. Corporate giving programs. Community fundraising opportunities.
It felt good to have something productive to focus on. Something that wasn’t fear or uncertainty or—
Caleb.
Her fingers paused on the keyboard.
She’d been trying not to think about last night. About the way he’d looked at her in the firelight. About the warmth of his hand on her face. The moment when their foreheads had touched and the world had shrunk to just the two of them.
She’d wanted to kiss him.
God help her, she’d wanted it so badly.
And if Sissy hadn’t interrupted—
Millie closed her eyes and took a slow breath.
It wouldn’t have changed anything.
She and Caleb had a history. A beautiful, painful, and complicated history. But he’d ended things for a reason she’d never understood until now.
Back then, she’d thought he was everything she needed. Strong. Kind. Patient. He’d loved her fiercely, even when she was at her worst.
Now she knew why he’d broken up. In a way, the truth helped her. In another way, his reasoning made it even harder.
If he’d just talked to her, so much heartache could have been avoided.
She opened her eyes and forced herself to focus on the screen again, scrolling through grant requirements.
But her thoughts drifted from Caleb to Valentina.
Several times that day, Millie had started to confront her. To ask her directly what she was really doing here.
But each time, she’d stopped herself.
What if she was wrong? What if Valentina was exactly who she claimed to be—a woman fleeing an abusive relationship, just like the rest of them?
Accusing her without proof would only create more tension. More fear.
Maybe Millie would still have that conversation eventually. But she needed to wait for the right opportunity. She needed to watch a little longer.
She rubbed her temples and glanced toward the window.
Though she didn’t mind working on these grants, she was going stir crazy.
What had she expected when she came here? She’d known she’d have to stay inside. To keep a low profile.
But she hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be.
She was getting cabin fever. She’d spent the last six months constantly looking over her shoulder. Being trapped in one place—even a safe one—felt wrong.
How long could she really live like this?
Days? Weeks?
Months?
The thought made her chest tighten.
It had been hard enough to be around Caleb here. But more than that? Could she really live with the daily reminder of what they’d lost? It seemed like an unnecessary burden to carry.
She turned back to the laptop, forcing herself to read through the next grant application. To focus on something she could control.
But the restlessness hummed beneath her skin like a live wire.
She needed to move. To breathe. To feel like she had some agency in her own life again.
And she had no idea how much longer she could hold herself together before something inside her snapped.