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He let her go, watching her walk away and disappear down the hall. He checked the front door one more time, brushed his teeth and took care of business in the bathroom. He paused for several seconds outside her closed bedroom door before striding back to the main room. He lay down on the couch with his forearm over his eyes, Pirate’s bed where he could drop a hand and feel coarse fur if the memories stirred.

Sleep didn’t come easily. It never did. But when it did, it found him in a room that smelled like apples and damp dogs and chocolate, with a woman who’d called him back from the bad places more than once in a single night and who might—if he was very lucky—call him back again tomorrow.

Chapter Eight

Thursday morning the snow drifted down in soft flakes, clinging to the clinic’s frosted windows and muffling the traffic outside. Polly tugged her sweater closer, a thick white knit over her navy-blue scrubs this morning, breathing in the familiar antiseptic and coffee smell of the free clinic. The waiting room was already fuller than usual—men and women huddled in from the cold, stamping snow from their boots, grateful for heat and free coffee as much as for medical care.

She pushed through to the small staff workroom, shaking melted snowflakes from her hair, and set her backpack on the counter. From its depths she began pulling out her morning contributions: rolls of gauze, over-the-counter pain relievers, boxes of sterile gloves, sample-size bottles of prenatal and children’s vitamins, as well as the antibiotics and prescription drugs requested from St. Luke’s. She locked up the prescription drugs and stacked everything else neatly in the white metal supply cabinet, falling into the natural rhythm of a caregiver, savoring her memories of the night before and then tucking them away into a wistful place inside her heart.

Daniel had stayed the night. The thought was a heady mix of comfort and longing. She could still feel the weight of his arms around her when he’d hugged her good-night—the solid security of his chest pressed against her, the brush of his lips against her forehead before he pulled away too soon. She’d lain awake afterward, wishing he’d given in and kissed her properly, wishing she’d had the courage to ask. And when she woke herself from a nightmare, she’d calmed herself with the sounds of Pirate’s snoring and Daniel’s heavy breathing down the hall. This morning he’d taken the dogs out while she prepared bagels and coffee. They’d shared a quiet breakfast, talking about little more than the dogs and their plans for the day.

Even when he ended breakfast abruptly, announcing he needed to get back home to check on his neighbor, Mrs. Maynard, and make sure her sidewalks were clear—a task she suspected had more to do with being overwhelmed by emotions and being peopled out—she’d felt safe with him. There was something about his strength, his military posture, his commitment to duty, his communication with the dog who responded to his every command that made her feel safer than she had in months.

He’d driven her back to the parking garage at St. Luke’s to retrieve her car. After changing her flat tire, he’d checked the trunk and back seat, underneath the car and even under the hood to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with before pulling her in for a tight hug, dropping a kiss to the crown of her hair, following her onto the street and then speeding away into the snowy morning.

She had the morning shift here at the clinic, and then she’d have the rest of the day and evening to complete a few more blocks of her quilt, and hang with Luna before taking the dog to K-9 Ranch for her training lesson. She supposed that somewhere in there, she’d gather the courage to text or call Daniel to make sure they were still on for their date tonight with the dogs.

Oh, man, was she falling hard and fast for the wounded warrior and his one-eyed dog. If it turned out that protecting her was just a mission for Daniel—that he couldn’t see past his scars and PTSD, and they could never be anything more than friends—she’d be devastated. She suspected that showing Daniel that he was relationship material—with her, specifically—would require a mixture of patience and pushing him out of his comfort zone. If only she was more experienced to know exactly what that balance would be.

She supposed she could call her sister and talk to her for relationship advice. But that would mean clueing her family in to just how seriously dangerous her stalker had become. They’d lock her up tighter than a songbird in a cage. She’d lose her independence, her chance to fight her own battles. If her dad and future brother-in-law took over her protection, it might make Daniel feel useless and unnecessary. His recovery could take a hit, and she might lose any chance of building something with him.

She sensed that helping her was an important part of his recovery, and she wouldn’t deny him that. A protection detail was a calling he understood—it gave him a break from facing his demons and adjusting to a new normal in the civilian world. But it also showed him that, even with limited vision and a fearsome appearance, he still had something to offer to the world. There was a reason he had survived that last mission. She hoped, too, that she could show him that, scars aside, he was still an attractive man. With those broad shoulders and sturdy arms and all that raw masculinity oozing out of every pore, he was very definitely an attractive man. That he listened when she spoke, had a surprising sense of humor and made her feel utterly safe were just icing on the cake.

Of course, identifying who was stalking her, and getting a bite of that Daniel Travis cake, were puzzles she was still trying to figure out.

Polly shook her head and pulled the last box from her bag. “How did my life get so complicated?”

She slid the box of syringes into the cabinet and was locking the door, just as she heard a soft knock, and a voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Polly turned to see a young woman in a frayed coat clutching an envelope, her fingers red with cold. She offered the woman a friendly smile and ushered her back into the hallway, closing the door behind her. “I’m sorry. This isn’t a patient room. Did you check in at the front desk?”

“Not yet.”

The woman visibly shivered, a look of uncertainty creasing her young face. Polly lightly hugged her arm around the woman’s shoulders, wondering if she needed to see a doctor sooner rather than later. “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?”

“No. I’m here for my pregnancy checkup. But I…” The woman stopped, turned out of Polly’s grasp and pointed to her name badge. “You’re Nurse Polly, right?”

Polly nodded, wondering why the woman wouldn’t quite meet her gaze. Then the woman held up the envelope in her cold-chapped hands, offering it like it was a burden. “A man outside gave me twenty bucks and asked me to give you this.”

Polly frowned, unease prickling her skin. She took the envelope slowly. “What man? Is he still out there? Did you see what he was driving?”

The woman shook her head, eyes dropping to the floor, before scurrying toward the waiting room.

Heart thudding, Polly slid her thumb beneath the flap. She could already guess who this was from and that her good mood was about to vanish. The scrawl inside was jagged, furious, unmistakably personal.

I see you. You can’t hide behind that soldier and his mutt forever. Next time, you won’t get away. You’re mine.

Her stomach hollowed out.

The paper crinkled in her shaking grip. Heat rose beneath her skin, a toxic blend of fear and anger. How dare he—whoever he was—keep haunting her life, threatening her when she was finally starting to feel safe again? Her pulse roaring in her ears, she shoved the note into her pocket and hurried through the waiting room and out the clinic doors.

Outside, the snow blurred the world into gray shapes. Icy flakes clung to her cheeks and melted into rivulets that chilled her skin. The cold wind in her eyes forced her to squint to bring the street and sidewalks into focus. People hunched inside their coats, heads bent, their steps quick against the slush-slick sidewalk. Car windows fogged over, engines coughed as vehicles pulled away from the curb. She turned in a slow circle, searching every shadow, desperate for a glimpse of someone watching her.

“Show yourself,” she muttered under her breath, her teeth clenched. “Coward.”

She strained her eyes down the block, fury spiking with each passing second that revealed nothing but strangers. If anyone was focused on her, she couldn’t see him. A car door slammed. A tight knot twisted in her chest, fear threatening to overtake her.