Emory didn’t speak until they were standing in front of him. He threw an unmistakable look at Mo. “You sure he needs to be here for this?”
“Whatever this is, he can hear it.”
“Okay, but you aren’t going to like it.”
“What happened?”
“Got a call from the power company. They know what the problem is.”
“And?”
“Someone took out a transformer.” Emory made eye contact with Mo.
“Can that actually happen?” Bronwyn asked.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s not a common occurrence, but it has happened.”
“How’d they do it?” Mo asked.
“Rifle.” Emory mimicked shooting a gun. “The transformer is fenced in, and there are security cameras. It’s not impossible with a high-powered hunting rifle, a good scope, and some knowledge of where to aim. Whoever did this didn’t have to risk being caughton video, and they could have been long gone before anyone responded.”
“Does Gray know?” Mo ran a hand through his hair, and the motion left it standing up in ways Bronwyn itched to fix.
“He’s on his way there now.” Emory turned back to Bronwyn. “The good news for us is that the transformer was old and was already slated for replacement. They have what they need to do the work. The current estimate is four hours. Maybe less.”
“That’s not bad at all.” Bronwyn almost sagged into Mo but caught herself. What was wrong with her?
“No, ma’am, it isn’t. My crew will have us running on generators in the next ten minutes. We’ll have a few blips in service when they put us back on the grid but nothing that should cause anyone too much drama today.” Emory looked at his watch. “Not that it’s any of my business, ma’am, but you should go back to your place and get some more sleep. There’s not a thing you can do out here.”
“She micromanaging you, Emory?” Mo’s voice held nothing but gentle teasing.
Emory grinned. “Not usually. She just takes good care of her people. She can’t help it. But she’s dead on her feet. Anyone with eyes can see it.”
“I guess you told me.” Bronwyn couldn’t argue. Shewasdead on her feet. And frustrated. And scared again. Because there was no way this was a fluke.
Fourteen
Eighteen Years Earlier
“Bronwyn!” A pause. “Bronwyn! Are you here?”
Bronwyn watched from her hiding spot behind a mountain laurel. Mo would find her soon enough, but it was fun to play with him. At fifteen, hide-and-seek hadn’t been part of their time together in a long while. But they hadn’t seen each other in a week.
They met at Catherine’s Falls whenever they could, and she usually waited for him on their favorite rock. But sometimes they played this game because she liked watching him. Liked hearing him call for her. There was hope and longing and maybe something that someday might be love in the way he said her name. So she held perfectly still and waited.
“Bronwyn Elena Elizabeth Pierce! I know you’re here.” Mo was laughing as he walked past her hiding spot. She let him get two feet away, then she moved. She’d planned to jump on his back, but he turned and she wound up in his arms instead, their faces centimeters apart.
Their eyes met.
Held.
“Hi.” His voice had deepened and sometimes, like now, when he spoke, it was more rumble than word.
She didn’t mind.
“Hi.” She brushed her nose against his and tried not to let her disappointment show when he bent down until her feet hit the earth. She expected him to release her. Maybe he’d keep her hand. But he didn’t move.
“I missed you.” The words were a gift. The tone, a promise.
