Page 6 of One Last Storm
Somehow, his detective instincts were already activated—she could see it in the way he watched her descend the stairs.
She forced a smile. “Those are going to be so good.”
Caspian immediately trotted over, pressing against her legs with a soft whine.
“Hey, sweet boy.” She rubbed his ears as she pushed past him.
“He likes you.”
“He likes anyone who feeds him, and he knows I keep a stash of cheddar rawhide in the pantry.” She walked to the closet and opened the pantry door, fished in the plastic bag and pulled out the treat. Caspian took it, then dropped it on the floor.
Huh.
Dawson crouched down, picked up the treat and extended his hand to Caspian.
The dog wouldn’t move, so he stepped up and scratched behind his ear. The dog leaned into his touch, but followed Tillie as she sat on a stool.
Another cramp and she tried not to wince.
“You’re worried about her too, aren’t you, boy?”
She looked up as Dawson stood, met her eyes with a grim look. “Smart dog. Knows when something’s not right.”
What? Oh, the storm. Moose. “Dogs pick up on stress.” She got up and gathered the mugs, needing something to do with her hands. The wind shrieked around the house like something alive and hungry. “I’m sure he’s figured out that I’m worried about the rescue.”
Dawson held her gaze for a moment, then nodded.
The radio crackled. Moose’s voice cut through the static, and Dawson reached for the radio.
“Air One Base, this is Rescue One. We’re airborne and en route to Winter’s location. Weather’s challenging but manageable. ETA thirty minutes.”
“Copy that, Rescue One,” Dawson said. “Keep us posted on conditions.”
“Will do. Rescue One out.”
Dawson glanced at her.
“He’ll find her. It’ll be fine,” she said, just as another cramp hit. She gripped the counter edge, breathing through it.
Dawson straightened, setting down his coffee. “You alright there?”
She nodded, but a tiny moan emerged, and her breath caught.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just...” She straightened, forcing a smile. “Just worried about him. You know how I get.”
His eyes narrowed. Cop mode activated.
“You’re pale. Have been all morning.”
Oh. “It’s the storm. Makes everything look gray.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Tillie.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He stepped closer. Caspian immediately shifted, staying between them while maintaining contact with her leg. “I’ve been a detective for fifteen years. I know when someone’s hiding something.”
