Page 35 of Mountain Man Summer

A chill ran through me at the implication. How long had he been watching her before making contact?

"That doesn't mean we have a relationship," Didi continued, her voice growing stronger. "What you've been doing is stalking, and it needs to stop."

Barrett's expression shifted between confusion and anger. "But you left clues in your broadcasts. You kept talking about needing to 'escape the noise.' About how being in nature brings you peace. You were telling me where to find you."

"Those were general statements about my own life," Didi replied. "Not messages to you or anyone else."

I caught movement at the edge of my vision—Callahan and two deputies approaching through the crowd. Relief surged through me, but I kept my focus on Barrett.

"It's over, Preston," I said firmly. "The Chicago PD has been looking for you. They know you've crossed state lines to follow Ms. Lawson. That's federal now."

"No!" Barrett's hand plunged into his jacket pocket.

I reacted instantly, lunging forward to grab his wrist before he could withdraw whatever he was reaching for. We grappled briefly before I forced his arm behind his back, driving him to his knees on the dock. From his pocket fell not a weapon but a small velvet ring box.

"I was going to propose," he gasped as Callahan reached us, handcuffs already out. "Tonight. During the fireworks. It was going to be perfect."

"Jesus," Callahan muttered, securing the cuffs while I maintained my hold.

"You have the right to remain silent," I began mechanically, years of training taking over as Barrett was pulled to his feet. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

As the deputies led Barrett away, his expression crumpled into something between confusion and despair. "But I love her," he said, looking back at Didi. "I've always loved her."

"I know you believe that," I replied quietly. "But that's not how love works."

Callahan clapped my shoulder. "Good work, Sterling." He glanced at Didi, who had finally stepped onto the dock. "Ms. Lawson, we'll need a statement, but it can wait until tomorrow if you'd prefer."

"Tomorrow would be better," she agreed, her voice steady though I could see the tension in her shoulders.

"I'll keep him locked down tight," Callahan assured her. "Chicago PD is sending someone to transport him back. Federal charges on top of the state ones—he won't be bothering anyone for a long time."

After Callahan left to join his deputies, a strange quiet settled around us despite the continued celebration nearby. The last of the fireworks faded, leaving only the colored lanterns along the shore reflecting on the water.

"Are you okay?" I asked, finally allowing myself to reach for Didi.

She stepped into my arms without hesitation, her body trembling slightly against mine. "I think so. It's just... seeing him in person after all these months of him being this shadowy threat. He seemed so..."

"Ordinary," I finished for her. "They usually are."

She pulled back enough to look at me. "You weren't scared at all."

"I was terrified," I corrected, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Not of him. Of what might happen to you."

Around us, families were packing up blankets and chairs, the holiday winding down. No one seemed to have noticed the drama that had just unfolded—another reminder of how personal crises often played out invisibly amid crowds.

"Let's go home," I said, realizing too late the presumption in my words.

But Didi just nodded, slipping her hand into mine. "Home sounds good."

***

Back at my cabin, we sat on the deck, iced tea glasses sweating in our hands as the night remained stubbornly warm. Neither of us could sleep, still processing the confrontation at the dock. Tomorrow would bring statements, paperwork, and the legal machinery that would keep Barrett contained, but tonight was just for us.

"What happens now?" I asked, voicing the question that had been hanging between us since Barrett's arrest.

Didi gazed out at the lake, her profile gilded by the early light. "I don't know. The station expects me back next week. My life is in Chicago."

The words landed like stones in my chest. I'd known this was temporary—known from the moment I learned who she was—but somewhere between teaching her to fish and holding her in the lake, I'd started to imagine otherwise.

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