Chapter 34 Omen
Omen
Darcy, Izzy Rosie didn’t move.
· “Watch.” Rosie’s posture sharpened—eyes snapping back to Evan.
· “Leave it.” Her ears twitched, but she held position.
· “Out.” She released a soft grip on the leash and looked up for praise.
· “Place.” Rosie trotted to the mat by their table and settled.
· “Quiet.” The next low growl faded before she could voice it.
“See?” Scout said calmly. “She’s clocked him.”
Darcy swallowed. “Is that… normal?”
“For Rosie? Yeah. She’s polite until she’s not.” His tone stayed easy, the meaning not.
“Thank you,” Darcy said softly.
“Anytime.”
Izzy breezed back from the counter, two to-go cups in hand. “Don’t wait up,” she sang. “Evan and I are hiking Fork Ridge Overlook—ten tomorrow morning.”
Darcy’s unease spiked. “Be careful.”
“Relax,” Izzy laughed. “It’s just a hike.”
Scout’s gaze lingered on Izzy, serious beneath the friendly smile. “Don’t worry,” he said to her, low and even. “I’ll be around.”
Izzy bumped his shoulder like it was nothing. Rosie growled as Evan stood; Scout laid a hand on the shepherd’s head.
“Quiet.”
The rumble stopped, but her stare didn’t.
Darcy tightened the leash. She’s not the only one.
Evan & Izzy
The Fork Ridge trail wound upward in a ribbon of leaf litter and granite—air like cold glass. Sunlight slashed through rhododendron in bright coins.
Izzy’s boot slid on a root, and she laughed, breathless. “God, I’m so out of shape,” she teased, brushing it off.
Evan chuckled, offering a hand. “Guess I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
She let him pull her along. The higher they climbed, the quieter it grew—just their steps and the dry whisper of oak leaves.
At the overlook, the world opened—blue ridges stacked to the horizon, the courthouse a white toy on its hill far below. Izzy lifted her arms and closed her eyes.
“This is exactly what I needed. Freedom. Beauty everywhere.”
Evan stepped close. That faint cologne—sharp, metallic—curled into the clean mountain air.
“You fit here,” he murmured. “Like you belong.”
She flushed. “Maybe. But this is vacation. I’ll go back.”
“Maybe not,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered.
She let him kiss her—gentle, coaxing—and for a heartbeat she melted into it, giddy with the thrill.
When she pulled back, he smiled like he’d won.
Pathetic, he thought, the warmth never reaching his eyes. A view and two soft lines, and she’s mine. They’re all the same—hungry to be seen. Smile. Touch. And they hand you the keys.
Izzy hugged herself against the breeze, cheeks still pink. “Guess I’ll have to make these last days count.”
“You will,” he promised, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. She thinks this is sweet. Let her. Control feels like love if you lace it right.
On the hike down, she talked about Denver, her condo, and which coffee place had the best croissants. Evan nodded, collecting crumbs. Keep talking, sweetheart. Every word is leverage.
When a jogger trotted past, he angled his body so Izzy took the narrow inside line against the drop. Casual, protective—calibrated.
She smiled, unworried. He smiled back and kept inventory.
One step closer. She thinks this is a fling. Once she’s gone, snatching Darcy gets easier. The sheriff. The damn dog. They won’t stop me. I’ll strip her world to studs. When she’s begging for air, she’ll remember who writes the rules.
Back in Town
Late-afternoon light slanted warm across the cottage yard. Rosie sprawled on the porch, chin on her paws, ears twitching at every squirrel and shifting leaf. She dozed and woke in quick loops, as if even her dreams kept watch.
Darcy stood barefoot at the top step, mug cradled in both hands, scanning the trees without quite meaning to.
Maybe I’ll sleep tonight, she told herself, watching Rosie breathe.
Rosie’s eyes cracked open, nose twitching at a hint of something just beyond the edge of the yard—a trace of cologne, or last night’s campfire smoke.
She huffed, low and uncertain, and Darcy reached down, fingers brushing the soft fur behind her ears.
They held still together, both of them listening as the wind shifted.
Then Rosie settled, but didn’t quite close her eyes, her body stretched long between rest and watchfulness, standing guard as the mountain dusk settled in.