“I can keep listing uncomfortable things.” He paused. “Oh! I know. It’s those little wooden spoons that come with the cups of ice cream. You know, the ones that feel like tongue depressors? God, I hate those things. There’s something unnatural about putting a stick of wood in your mouth.”

She laughed, the sound tinkling like bells through the wilderness. “You have bizarre dislikes.”

“You only say that because you’ve never tried sitting on an inflatable couch.”

He thought that would be the end of it, and they’d keep marching along the trail to the tune of their playful banter, but Sophie’s feet crunched to a halt. He stopped, more out of instinct than anything else, and looked back at her.

His breath caught. She looked so much like she had the day they met, when he’d come to the kennel to find a wary, worried young woman who’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that she was about to face a monster.

He’d thought she’d seen past that—realized Harrison was coming to cherish her happiness more than his own—but now he wasn’t so sure.

“What is it?” he asked, his throat tight with suppressed frustration. It’s happening again. It’s happening with her. “What did I say? Sophie, please—you know I’m not good with words.”

She didn’t flinch at the emotion in his voice. Instead, she tilted her head and examined him in her usual inquisitive manner. “Didn’t you ever wonder how I know Oscar?” she asked. “Or why I agreed to help him out with your case?”

The question took him by surprise—mostly because he didn’t know, and it had never occurred to him to ask. He’d been so wrapped up in his own affairs that he hadn’t wondered what Oscar had done to coerce this kindhearted woman into doing his bidding.

“No, but I’m wondering now. Was your…? Did you…?” He paused and forced a deep breath. Before Oscar worked the desk at the Department of Natural Resources, he’d been a more-than-adequate firefighter of his own. He always joked that he planned to stay behind that desk until Harrison finally decided he was too old to dig ditches and take his place. The number of lives he’d saved in the line of duty probably numbered in the thousands. “Did he save you from a fire?”

“Not a fire, no.” Sophie’s voice became remote, a part of her drawn inward. “But he did save me.”

Harrison waited, aware that she was struggling with something he couldn’t fathom. The location was perfect for it, the winding dirt path silent save for the rustling of the breeze through the trees and the occasional call of a friendly bird. Sophie was perfect too, her features taking on a firm resolve that transformed her from a pretty woman to a beautiful one.