Wes had learned to treat that posture the same way he treated a cocked weapon.
Someone was out there. In the woods.
Hidden.
Watching.
Keeping his eyes forward, his hand moved to his jacket. Then he stopped himself.
Every trained instinct he had said turn around. Identify the threat. Close the distance before it closed itself.
Instead, he remained in position.
He had Rowan beside him with no backup and a forest full of shadows.
The math on turning around didn't work. Not today.
“Wes?” Rowan glanced at him, sensing something was wrong.
“Don’t look back.” He kept his voice even, not wanting to alarm her.
Rowan stilled beside him. “What’s going on?”
“We need to walk. Keep the same pace as we came in.”
With another look of trepidation, she fell into step without a word.
The distance back to the yard was maybe a hundred fifty yards of open ground. Wes had crossed it without a second thought twenty minutes ago.
Now he felt every foot of it.
He kept his shoulders loose. Kept his breathing even.
Twenty yards. Forty.
The house was visible now beyond the fence line . . . yet it looked so far away.
Rowan hadn't made a sound. He didn’t look at her. But he felt the tension coming off her in waves.
Seventy yards. Sixty.
He kept walking until the fence was ten yards ahead, then five.
Finally, they were through the gate.
Only then did he exhale.
Someone had been back there.
Watching.
Waiting to see what they’d do next.
And possibly planning their next move.
CHAPTER 10
Rowan fellinto step beside Wes.
