done.

Time to get a grip. There were worse things in the world than not having material items. Or the place your parents lived.

Her life was more important than any of that. She closed her eyes and lifted her heart to God.

Help me, Lord, to understand and accept this new path You’ve provided for me, amen.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but a knock at her door had her rising to her feet. Using the peephole, she saw Slade standing there. “Hi. The cabin must be ready, huh?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s clean and stocked with food. Stay here, I’ll get Duncan.”

She stepped back and grabbed her bag. When the men returned, they once again sandwiched her between them as they made their way outside and along the parking lot, keeping parallel to the building.

It felt foolish, and she wondered what the people who lived in Moose, Wyoming, thought about them as they headed toward the rear portion of the motel. In the distance, she could see a cabin, tucked off to the side, isolated from other structures.

Slade held the key in his hand, and Duncan stood guard as the marshal unlocked the door and pushed it open. She crossed the threshold, glancing around curiously. It was nicer than she’d expected, rustic but with a great view of the mountains from the back porch.

“Home, sweet home,” she murmured, dropping her bag of personal items on the glossy oak kitchen table.

“For a couple of days,” Slade agreed. He glanced at his watch. “I’m heading back to the motel office to borrow their computer again. Duncan, I’m sure you won’t mind staying here to watch over Chelsey.”

“I don’t mind at all, but I’d like to dig into the Coyote Creek Construction company. Could your marshal friend bring a spare computer? Two brains working on this are better than one.”

Slade nodded. “I need to check in with Colt anyway, so I’ll see if that’s possible.”

“What can I do to help?” Chelsey wasn’t the type to sit around doing nothing. Managing the hotel had kept her busy, which is what she preferred.

“Honestly, the best thing you can do is try to remember anything Brett may have mentioned about this job at the construction company, the people he worked with, anything at all.” Slade smiled. “It’s often the littlest things that can break open a case.”

“Okay.” Slade left and Duncan poked his head into the fridge and the cupboards, scoping out the lunch possibilities even though they’d just finished breakfast.

Taking a seat at the table, she sighed. She didn’t hold out much hope of remembering anything helpful. Those past few weeks before the wedding, she’d been dealing with last-minute preparations while studiously ignoring the lingering doubts about her upcoming marriage. Not to mention getting everything in the hotel running smoothly while she was gone on her honeymoon.

She abruptly straightened. Wait a minute, their honeymoon. Brett had done the planning for their trip—all she’d asked for was to be able to swim in the ocean, something she’d never done, and to find a place that wasn’t too hot. He’d teased her that he had all her preferences on file, and in fact had carried a file folder with the details.

She remembered he had suggested Florida. Had he settled on it? Maybe the northern part of the state? Was that why Slade had mentioned relocating them there?

“Did you remember something?” Duncan’s keen gaze apparently didn’t miss a thing.

“Nothing to help with the case, but I just realized Brett did all the planning for our honeymoon, someplace near the ocean because I’ve never seen it.” She stared at him. “Do you think he was waiting until the honeymoon to tell me about being in witness protection? That the place near the ocean was going to be our new home?”

“Maybe.” Duncan sat across from her. “Did he say anything else about the trip? Did you have airline tickets or anything?”

“No, although he did have a folder with details that he carried around. What was strange is that he wanted to drive to Florida, so we could see the scenery.” She thought back to the snippets of conversation. “He seemed surprised when I mentioned not liking Florida. Do you think he planned to go somewhere else? Like maybe without the help of the US Marshals Service?”

“I hate to say this, but nothing at this point would surprise me. Brett apparently wanted to have a new life with you, no matter what he’d witnessed. Maybe he thought that simply moving away would be enough.” Duncan’s gaze hardened and she realized he was seriously angry with their friend.

“It’s so hard to believe that he would think I would just give up the hotel my family owned to live with him in another state. Doing what? I mean, what was he thinking?” She dropped her gaze to the glossy table. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now, when I’m forced to take on a new identity.”

He reached out and took her hand. “I know nothing about this is easy, Chelsey, but you’re smart and talented. You can do whatever you’d like.”

She shook her head. “Not true. I wanted to run the hotel my parents left to me, but that’s not possible.”

“Try thinking of what you might have done if the hotel had gone under for some reason,” he suggested.

“I guess you have a point,” she admitted. What would she like to do? She couldn’t cook so running a restaurant was out.

But at one time she’d considered becoming a teacher. She had a fine arts degree. Could she put that to use in some way?

Maybe.

And what about the so-called proof Brett said he’d get? Duncan’s phone rang. He pulled away and stood. “I have to take this, it’s my boss.”

She listened as Duncan told his boss he needed more time off work. When she realized she was shamelessly eavesdropping, she picked up her bag of personal items and did a quick search of the cabin.

The two bedrooms were on the right side

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