So whoever she’d seen that day with Henry wasn’t Alanna. It couldn’t have been. It was another woman, someone who just resembled what Alanna might have looked like if she’d had the chance to grow up.
Because the truth was, Alanna had probably never gotten that chance.
Kensie knew the statistics about stranger child abductions. Her family had come to accept the truth long ago. And Kensie had been running from it ever since her parents had given in and decided to move on with their lives.
Instead of following their example, she’d chased a ghost, seeing leads where there were none because she was so desperate to undo a mistake she’d made when she was thirteen. Maybe it was time to forgive herself. Maybe it was time to let Alanna go.
The sob that burst forward made Kensie choke and gag. Her throat felt like it was closing up and her chest felt like it was on fire. A nurse ran into the room as Kensie got control of her breathing. She swiped the tears off her face and managed, “I’m okay.”
She wasn’t. But hopefully she would be.
Her parents’ wake-up call had been Flynn’s accident. Apparently she’d needed a fugitive to try and kill her to find her own wake-up call.
“Kensie?” Colter’s voice reached her from the hallway.
She stared at the open doorway and then he appeared, moving as fast as he could with his cane. Kensie closed her eyes and held out her arms.
Then his arms were around her and her head was on his chest. She squeezed her eyes more tightly closed, breathing in Colter’s scent—clean and slightly musky—and tried to relax. Because as badly as she needed a good cry, doing it would hurt too much. And she didn’t want a sedative or a tube in her throat.
Finally, he leaned back and stared down at her face, brushing hair out of her eyes. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, not wanting to speak, not even sure she could speak without losing it.
He didn’t move his arms from around her and she kept hers looped around his back. It felt right, like something she’d do with a boyfriend instead of a man she’d only known for a few days.
“I gave the police my statement, Kensie, and the reason it took me so long to get back here—besides dropping Rebel off somewhere safe—is that I talked to them about Henry.”
From the way his lips twisted up, she knew bad news was coming. She held on tighter, waiting.
“They’ve contacted police in Kansas and I asked the chief to beg for a little professional courtesy and get the station there to look into his whereabouts when your sister went missing.”
Kensie’s heart thumped madly, a brief hope, but he shook his head.
“The day Alanna disappeared, Henry Rollings was serving a one-month jail sentence for a DUI. He’s not the guy, Kensie. I’m so sorry.”
She ducked her head, pressing her face against his chest and letting the relief and disappointment roll over her in waves. Relief because Henry was a killer, but he hadn’t killed Alanna. Disappointment because, yet again, she had no real answers.
And it was time to accept that maybe she never would.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, not moving, but she didn’t want to let go. Her time in Alaska was about to end and that meant leaving Colter behind.
She was falling for him more with every day. There was no question about it. But that wasn’t enough.
Not when he was too broken to move on with his life, even if he cared for her, too.
Besides, her family was waiting for her. A family who’d been scared for her to come here, who hadn’t been whole for too long but had always tried. They’d stood by each other instead of letting Alanna’s loss tear them apart. And even though she blamed herself, they’d never blamed her. Not once, even in anger, had anyone suggested it was her fault. Except for Kensie herself.
Leaving Desparre—leaving Colter—was the right thing to do. So why did it feel so wrong?
HE DIDN’T WANT to let her go.
Colter glanced at Kensie, sitting silently in the passenger seat of his truck, staring out the window. In the past four days, he’d come to think of it as her seat. And now she was leaving.
In the back, Rebel sat quietly beside Kensie’s suitcase. His dog had let out a low whine when Colter loaded it and he’d petted her softly. “I know, girl,” he’d whispered. “I know.”
The doctors had cleared Kensie to leave this afternoon and she’d booked a flight home tonight. In the brief time between, they’d held hands and walked the streets of Desparre without speaking. Then he’d left her at her hotel to pack while he picked up Rebel so they could both say goodbye.
He couldn’t believe he was about to drop her off at the airport and never see her again.
Stealing a glance at her, he tried to memorize her profile. The thick, glossy hair framing her face. The full lips, always tilted slightly up at the corners like she was on the verge of a smile. She was staring out the window, so he couldn’t see her eyes well, but he didn’t need to. He could picture the exact shade of light brown, like a delicious toffee. He could see the serious intensity there.
Redirecting his attention to the road ahead, Colter blew out a heavy breath. He never used to be the guy who didn’t know what to say, but since Kensie had told him she was leaving, he’d been at a complete loss for words.
He’d known it was coming eventually, of course. He even knew it was the right thing for her. But knowing it was different from watching her
