Chapter 36 Convergence
Convergence
Burke
Burke couldn’t shake the image of Rosie lunging into the trees, her bark splitting the air. Someone had been there—close. Too close.
Back at the sheriff’s office, he leaned against his desk. “Rosie doesn’t miss.”
Scout nodded grimly. “Someone was near—breathing the same air.”
He wouldn’t tell Darcy—not yet. She was already jumpy, always checking shadows—and with good reason. Someone had been in her cottage before, and in the woods today. If he added that the pattern looked like deliberate surveillance, he’d only make it worse. Better she stay guarded than feel trapped.
That evening, Darcy invited him out back, where the fire pit glowed. Sparks drifted upward into the dark as Rosie sprawled at her feet, eyes fixed on the shifting shadows.
“You’ve been making rounds,” Darcy said. “Everything all right?”
Burke hesitated, staring into the embers. “Let’s just say I’d feel better knowing someone was watching out for you. More than Rosie, I mean.”
Her brow furrowed. “Burke—”
“Don’t ask me to explain all of it. Not tonight. Just trust me—someone’s out there, and I don’t like it. Let me stay close until I figure out what’s going on.”
She nodded, but her mind wouldn’t follow. Oh God. It’s him. The thought roared through her so loudly she almost said the name aloud. But no—he wasn’t the kind of man to lurk in shadows. If he knew where she was, he’d already made his move. He’d never wait.
He’s smart. Cunning. He thinks he owns me. He doesn’t stalk; he strikes. So if not him… then who? Kids breaking into houses? Or someone he sent? The thoughts seesawed until she was raw.
When Burke rose to toss another log on the fire, Darcy slipped inside, checked the back door, and slid the deadbolt with a soft click. She tugged each window latch along the kitchen wall, testing them twice before returning outside.
“I already did the screws in the windows,” she said softly, voice steadier than she felt.
“I saw,” Burke said, pride in his tone. “That and Rosie put you ahead of most folks.”
Rosie rumbled low, pressing against Darcy’s boots. Darcy stroked the dog’s head, drawing comfort even as her mind whispered, Who’s out there? Who’s watching?
“If it makes you feel better,” she murmured.
“It does,” Burke said firmly. He leaned closer, his hand brushing hers on Rosie’s fur. “I’ll have Scout run extra patrols. Between him and Rosie, nothing’s getting by.”
Darcy smiled faintly. “Then maybe a fortress is exactly what I need.”
Burke’s gaze softened. “Not a fortress. Just… safe.” His voice dropped lower. “And when Izzy heads back to Denver, I want more than quick check-ins and fire pits. I miss you.”
Warmth curled low in her chest. She opened her mouth, but he was already leaning closer. His lips brushed hers—tender, careful, tasting of unspoken promises. Rosie wedged between them with a soft whine, but Burke only chuckled, pressing his forehead to Darcy’s.
“Soon,” he murmured.
Her smile trembled, caught between nerves and longing. “Soon,” she echoed.
As the fire burned low, Burke caught the unease in her eyes.
It wasn’t just about prowlers or robberies.
He’d sensed it since the first day he met her—that haunted look she tried to bury.
Every time he pressed, even gently, she shut down tight.
He wasn’t the kind of man to push. So he gave her space, hoping one day she’d trust him enough to tell him what—or who—still held her in its grip.
Burke’s taillights disappeared down the gravel drive, their glow swallowed by the dark trees. Darcy stood in the quiet, Rosie’s steady weight against her leg, then finally went inside.
Izzy was curled on the couch with a mug of tea. She glanced up. “Everything okay? You look pale.”
Darcy hesitated, then sat opposite, pulling a blanket around her shoulders. “Burke was here. He says… someone’s out there. Watching.”
Izzy’s eyes widened. “Watching? Caitlin…”
Darcy flinched at her real name. She hadn’t heard it much lately, and it always hit differently—like stepping back into a life she wasn’t sure she still fit.
“He wouldn’t give me details,” she admitted, voice low. “But I can’t shake it. What if he’s finally found me?”
Izzy reached across the table, gripping her hand.
“Caitlin, listen. I don’t think this is him.
You’ve got the sheriff on edge, a whole town full of rumors, and you’ve been through hell—you’re jumpy, and who wouldn’t be?
Honestly, I really think Evan’s just a guy with a camera.
Maybe a little pushy, but not dangerous. ”
Darcy tried to smile, but it faltered. “I hope you’re right.” Her eyes flicked to Rosie, alert at the door, ears pricked. God, please let her be right.
Later, as Burke made his rounds, the night carried the faint scent of charcoal and cooling embers. He texted Scout one word: Quilt.
Scout’s reply came quickly: Lucy.
Burke allowed himself a tight nod. That code had been theirs for years—short, simple, consistent. Quilt meant check the house. Lucy meant all clear. He slipped the phone into his pocket, the weight of responsibility settling heavier than ever.
Whoever was out there, he’d find them—and this time, he wouldn’t wait for them to make the first move.