neighborhood who didn’t adore him yet like everybody else did.
“Pete, get back here,” she called. After a reluctant moment, the dog wandered back to meet her as she approached the little family and she gripped his collar tightly.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “He loves to meet new people and can be a little too friendly sometimes. Hi. I’m Wynona Bailey. I live just down the street in the stone house with the green shutters. Welcome to Haven Point.”
The woman didn’t answer her smile. Her features were closed, unapproachable, her green eyes arctic.
“Isn’t there some sort of leash law in Haven Point?” she asked in a stiff voice.
So. Not the friendliest of new neighbors. Too bad. The kids were adorable, with auburn hair like their mother’s. The boy’s was curly and the girl wore hers in two long, thick braids.
“Technically, yes,” she answered. “I’ve got a leash here. But since we were just walking from our house to the trailhead just up ahead, I decided not to use it.”
“My son is afraid of dogs. Especially big, ill-behaved, dangerous dogs.”
She had to blink at that. No one in his right mind could possibly call a big, furry sweet-tempered guy like Young Pete dangerous or ill-behaved. He only wanted to say hello, for heaven’s sake.
“Sorry again. I’ll try to keep him out of your way. Come on, Petey.” She grabbed the leash out of the pocket of the backpack and clipped it on him. The little boy had emerged from behind his mother and gave her a tentative smile and she couldn’t help smiling back.
“It was great to meet you all,” she said, even though she hadn’t really met them. Meeting someone implied an exchange of names, which the woman had quite pointedly not shared.
She waved at the children. The boy waved back and it looked like his sister wanted to, but at the last minute she stuck her hand in her pocket. Their mother had turned away to unpack groceries.
Wyn gave a mental shrug and headed past Cade’s log home to the beginning of the trailhead up into the mountains. As soon as she and Pete crossed the bridge, she unclipped his leash with a defiant look back at the family, but they had disappeared into the house.
IT DIDN’T TAKE long for the sheer beauty of her surroundings to siphon away the unpleasantness of the encounter with her new neighbors.
She had grown up hiking the foothills all around Haven Point but this was indisputably her favorite walk. The trail to Mount Solace was an easy but steady climb through stands of fragrant pines and firs and a thick forest of aspens with leaves that fluttered and danced on the slightest breeze. Amid the trees were several wide meadows bursting with wildflowers this time of year—columbine and kittentails, Indian paintbrush and delicate Queen Anne’s lace.
She loved the solitude and the serenity she always found in the mountains and as she walked, she felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. Pete enjoyed it, too, sniffing from tree trunk to flower patch to granite boulder.
An hour later, she felt much more centered and calm. Yes, she had a close call today. Yes, it probably had been a mistake to run into that barn and especially to turn off her comm while she did it, but she would never regret rescuing Lucas and Caleb, no matter what Cade said.
The sun was beginning to slide behind the mountains and her stomach reminded her she still needed to think about dinner.
“What do you think? Should we go home, Petey?”
The dog’s ears perked up and he inclined his head down the trail, just in case she had forgotten the way back.
She had to smile. “Thanks. Lead on.”
The dog obediently took point and they made their way back down. She loved the uphill trail for the burn it gave her quads and thighs and the sense of accomplishment, but the real reward came from the walk back down, when she caught occasional glimpses through the trees of the lake and the silvery twist of river and the town she had sworn to serve and protect.
She had hiked higher than she intended, she realized, as the shadows lengthened and the temperatures began to drop. She picked up her pace. Just before she hit the relatively flat part of the trail that paralleled the river, she heard voices ahead of her—unhappy voices, by the sound of it. A couple of upset children.
Remembering her new neighbors, she called Pete over to her and clipped his leash onto his collar.
“Sorry, dude. Better safe than sorry, right?”
Pete huffed out a breath but he was so easygoing that he never minded the leash much. They continued walking along the trail that curved with the river, following those voices.
Finally, they rounded a bend where she discovered the new occupant of the cute Craftsman sitting on the trail with her right leg stretched out in front of her and her children hovering close.
Wyn did a quick situation assessment and saw the woman’s ankle was swollen and beginning to bruise. She had a vague sense of déjà vu. Apparently this was her designated day to deal with injured limbs.
Her children knelt beside her in the dirt. The little boy’s face was streaked with tears and the girl was holding her mother’s hand, though she also looked pale and frightened.
The woman caught sight of Wyn and her distressed features closed up.
“Oh. It’s you.”
The woman tried to struggle to her feet as if she didn’t want to be caught in any kind of vulnerability and Wynona hurried forward.
“Please, don’t get up. That looks nasty!” Grateful for the impulse she’d had to put on Pete’s leash, she moved closer so she could have a better look at the injury. “I’m guessing the rock over there was the culprit. I stumbled over the same one on my way up.”
She pointed to one of those basketball-sized rocks that sometimes seemed to spring out of the ground overnight along these mountain trails, like mushrooms after a rain.
“We were watching a pretty bluebird on the trail and my mama didn’t see the rock. She says she sprained her ankle,” the girl offered.
“That was probably a mountain bluebird. They’re my very favorite bird.”
“I liked it too,” the girl said. “It sounded nice. I like your dog. She’s pretty.”
“She’s a he, actually. This is Young Pete and I’m Wynona Bailey. Wyn.”
“I remember. You said so before. My name is Chloe Montgomery. This is my brother, Will, and my mom, Andrea. I’m six years old and Will is four. My mom is thirty.”
Ah. Andrea Montgomery. That was the name of the woman who was now frowning at her daughter like she had just revealed state secrets.
Or maybe Wyn was being too suspicious. Maybe the woman was merely grimacing in pain.
“Do you mind if I take a look?” she asked Andrea Montgomery. “I’m a police officer here in Haven Point, trained as an EMT too.”
This was the second time that day she had been grateful that Cade insisted everyone in the department go through the necessary basic training in first aid. Haven Point was a small town, he had always explained, and sometimes his officers were on an accident scene alone for several minutes before the volunteer fire department could mobilize. A little knowledge might even mean the difference between life and death.
If she hoped the other woman would be relieved to find out she had basic medic experience, Wyn would have been sadly disappointed. If anything, the woman’s features tightened even further and she avoided Wyn’s gaze.
“That’s not necessary, Officer Bailey. It’s not broken. I only twisted it a little. I was catching my breath a moment before we head back