Troubled Waters. Rachelle McCalla

like we’ve got a chaperone,” Heath said softly, stepping back and pulling his hand away.

      Tracie didn’t know how to respond. She knew she ought to be glad her dog had the good sense to break them apart before they got any closer, but as reality returned with its crushing weight, she almost considered offering to put the dog out in the yard. But now that they were no longer standing so close, Gunnar didn’t seem nearly as concerned. He hunkered down and put his head on her left foot, as though staking his claim.

      Her silence must have concerned Heath, because he quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. I know you said you don’t fraternize with coworkers. I should respect your personal space.”

      “It’s okay,” she said softly.

      A relieved grin spread across Heath’s lips. “I’m glad. I think I’d like to spend more time with you.”

      Though she hadn’t intended to encourage him, Tracie couldn’t help smiling back at him. She shook her head and whispered, mostly to herself, “I should know better.”

      “Why? There’s no rule in the Coast Guard against the two of us spending time together outside of work.”

      “Not in the Coast Guard,” she shook her head. “It’s my rule.”

      “Why?”

      Tracie sighed. She’d been tired before Heath had arrived. She was exhausted now. Still, it had been so long since she’d had anyone to talk to, since she’d stood so close to anyone. She didn’t want Heath to leave, so she kept talking.

      “I didn’t always have this rule. Before Trevor came, I wouldn’t think twice about meeting a few guys from the team at the rec center for racquetball, or joining my coworkers and their families for a barbecue.” She paused.

      “Before Trevor came?”

      “He wanted more of my attention than I wanted to give him.” It took several long seconds for her to gather the courage to look Heath in the eye.

      The concern on his face strengthened her, and she went on. “He thought we should hang out together. He—” she struggled to form the words she hadn’t ever admitted to anyone “—he wanted to be involved with me. He thought we should get together after hours. Not that I ever would.” She made a disgusted face. “I tried to turn him down politely. I tried to give him hints. When hints weren’t enough I had to make myself very, very clear.”

      Her voice rose as the confession came spilling out, and Gunnar lifted his head from her foot and whined his concern.

      Tracie lowered her voice slightly. “I told him I didn’t fraternize with coworkers. Ever. And I stuck to it. Once I thought I could get away with going to play sand volleyball with a bunch of guys from work, but he showed up. It was bad.” She pinched her eyes shut against the memories. Trevor’s anger. Trevor’s accusations.

      Heath extended his good arm, gently enfolding her shoulders. She smelled the scent of his fabric softener mixed with his aftershave, and his soft cotton shirt pulsed ever so slightly with his strong heartbeat.

      “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Heath apologized. “And I’m sorry I pushed you. I didn’t know.”

      Tracie shook her head against him, startled to find herself so close to him, but immeasurably glad for his closeness anyway. “No. Don’t be sorry.” She looked up into his face. “You are nothing like him. I don’t regret letting you in tonight. I really appreciate the pizza, and the opportunity to talk.”

      The grin that instantly appeared on Heath’s face told Tracie he didn’t regret it either.

      A surprised laugh burst from her lips. “If Trevor was alive right now, he would be so furious to see you here when I was so insistent on not getting involved with him.”

      Heath lifted her chin. “Let’s just be glad he’s dead, then.” He looked into her eyes, his expression warm.

      Returning a giddy smile, Tracie let her eyes rove over his handsome face, to his lips less than a foot from hers. What would it be like to kiss him? She was chiding herself for thinking such a thing about a man she’d only just met when Gunnar’s barking protest distracted her. “Okay, Mr. Chaperone,” she relented, backing away.

      “I should go,” Heath said, taking a step toward his coat.

      The twinge of disappointment she felt took Tracie by surprise. She hadn’t ever intended to have Heath over in the first place; she should have felt relieved that he was leaving. “Thanks for the pizza.” She headed for the door, self-conscious about where her thoughts had roamed.

      When Tracie opened the front door for Heath, Gunnar’s nostrils flared and he bounded outside, barking.

      “Want me to go after him?” Heath offered.

      “It’s okay, he usually goes out before bedtime.” She bit her lower lip thoughtfully. Gunnar wasn’t usually so excited about his evening ritual, but she figured Heath’s visit had thrown him off his routine. Still, he barked angrily at the thorny stand of blackberry canes that rimmed the one side of her property. Strange.

      “Sounds like he’s pretty interested in those bushes,” Heath observed. “Is that normal?”

      Tracie felt her pulse tick up a notch. “Not really,” she acknowledged, sliding on her oversize snow boots and tromping out at Heath’s side.

      “Hey, buddy.” Heath went nose-to-nose with the canine. “What’s up? You got a rabbit pinned in there?”

      Gunnar whined at Heath, then shook his head and made a sound that may have been a sneeze, though it sounded more like the dog was disgusted about something.

      “Oh!” Tracie’s eyes opened wide, and she almost laughed at her dog, who could seem so human at times.

      The dog turned his back on the bush and kicked snow behind him with his hind legs before trotting back to the house.

      Heath escorted Tracie to the door. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

      “Of course.” She smiled up at him, feeling better after his visit than she had in some time.

      “Call me if anything bothers you,” Heath insisted. “Or if you have anything on your mind and just want to talk.”

      “Sure.” Tracie waved as Heath trotted off to his truck.

      She closed the door and locked the deadbolt after him, wondering what his final words had been about. Too tired to make any sense of it, she wandered back to the kitchen with Gunnar huffing indignantly at her feet.

      Heath breathed deeply of the cold night air and tried to clear his thoughts, but his evening with Tracie had blown his mind. Sure, he’d felt attracted to her from the start, but getting to know her and taking a peek inside her world only made him want to spend more time with her and get to know her even better. Who would have guessed he’d find such an intriguing woman in this little corner of Wisconsin—and she used Gerlach Tools! It had taken all his resilience to leave her, in spite of Gunnar’s insistence and his own certainty that if he went too far with Tracie too quickly, he’d push her away. She was a woman of strong convictions. He’d figured that much out already.

      Nor did he think Gunnar had simply been after a rabbit in the bushes. He didn’t want to scare Tracie, but he was fairly certain the ground had been recently trampled by something a lot bigger than a bunny, though whatever—or whoever—it had been was long gone. Still, Heath would be keeping a close watch on her place tonight.

      And he knew one other thing for certain. Tracie had been right about Trevor. If her old partner had seen them spending time together tonight, he would be furious. From what he knew of the man, that rage would play out violently. If he was dead, of course, there was no way the issue could be a problem. But Heath was far from certain that Trevor was really dead.

      FOUR

      Heath