Joe studied her profile—the little crease between her brows, the way her thumb rested just beside the carved line without quite touching it.
He lifted his camera.
“Don’t,” she said instantly. “My hair’s a mess.”
“I don’t care about your hair.”
The look she shot him said she didn’t believe that for a second.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply.
He framed her with the carving—the curve of her shoulder, the bear etched beside her, light skimming water and stone. He clicked the shutter once, twice, three times, adjusting barely at all. The image was already perfect; he just had to capture it.
She looked so right here. Like this carved bear and the singing water had been waiting for her specifically.
For a moment, the reporter in him fell quiet and simply observed. The other part—the man who had woken her before sunrise with a tight embrace and a soft kiss—leaned in and thought,Yeah. I could get used to this.
“This has to be their cave,” he said quietly, lowering the camera. The hairs on his arms were standing up from the sound, from the chill of the shaded rock. “It has everything. The water, the bear, even the echo.”
Krista moved toward the darker curve of rock. Joe followed, squinting as his eyes adjusted. The temperature dropped; the air grew damper. The water’s song changed, too. It was muffled, bouncing off a tighter space.
“I think you’re right,” she whispered. “This is their place. It all feels…surreal.” She swallowed. “I want to know everything. What happened next? Why did they cut their trip short? How did she even meet my great-grandfather?”
“There’s time. I’m sure you’ll figure it all out.” He had no doubt she’d get to the bottom of it all. Krista was determined like that.
“It feels like Isabel is…nudging me. It’s hard to explain. But I feel her here.” Krista tapped her heart with her hand. “Encouraging me.”
“And what do you think she’s encouraging you toward?”
She let out a breathy laugh. “That’s the problem. I don’tknow.” She looked deeper into the shadows before turning back to Joe.
He stepped closer. Close enough to feel her breath. His hand lifted to her jaw, tipping her face up. He waited for a heartbeat, enough time for her to pull away.
She rose onto her toes and kissed him first.
He answered immediately. The kiss deepened in a single breath. The cave gathered the sound—his breath and the softest hitch in her throat—and returned it to them.
She pulled back before it could become more, both of them breathing hard.
Frankie chose that exact second to let out a fierce bark. The pup stood rigid, tail straight, shoulders squared to attention. Staring straight at a shadow lumbering across the stone near the cave entrance.
Joe froze, his hands still on Krista’s shoulders. Outside, the animal pawed and huffed.
“Joe,” she whispered. “I think that’s a?—”
“Bear.”
Frankie growled, a noise far too big for his body, then barked again. The echo made him sound enormous.
The thought hit him hard.What if this is its den?His gaze darted around for anything they could use. Scattered pebbles. A few fist-sized rocks.
It would have to do.
He and Krista crouched, each picking up a rock. It felt like bringing a spoon to a sword fight.
“Stay behind me,” he said, stepping forward.
But it didn’t matter because Frankie charged out first.
