Page 21 of Out of Time (Undaunted Courage #3)

The rabbit with the splinted leg in Micah’s crude wooden cage required food and water, and who else was there to tend to it? While her knowledge about injured animals was limited, the internet offered a trove of guidance.

She lengthened her stride until the cabin appeared but slowed when Steven came out the door.

What was he doing here?

Natalie’s cousin seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him, but after a moment he smiled and raised a hand in greeting.

She continued toward him, stopping beside the cage containing the rabbit as Steven walked over to join her.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” She set her satchel on the ground, a few leaves of lettuce peeking out the top.

“Likewise. I’m guessing you came to play Florence Nightingale.” He flicked a glance at the tote and indicated the cage.

“Yes. I spotted him during my walks, and there was no one else to take care of him. At least a neighbor took the chickens. What’s your excuse for stopping here? And so early in the afternoon. I thought Natalie said you were coming tonight.”

“I left the office at noon. Slow morning. Natalie said the sheriff didn’t find any other contact information for Micah down here, and the name she had didn’t lead anywhere. I thought I’d take one more look. It’s hard to believe there isn’t a soul who should be notified.”

“Also sad. Did you have any luck?” She motioned toward the cabin.

“No.”

Not surprising. Brad would have done a thorough search. If there’d been anything to find, he’d have found it.

“At least he left final instructions.”

Steven’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know that.”

“Oh. I assumed Natalie had mentioned it to you.”

“We haven’t talked much about him since Monday. I don’t bring him up because it disturbs her.”

That was true. While there wasn’t any family to mourn Micah’s passing, one person was quietly grieving his death.

“Yes, I know. The sheriff found a handwritten note in a box in the cabin, along with a last will and testament bequeathing his modest savings to the local animal shelter. Micah wanted to be cremated, and he asked that his ashes be spread over the lake.”

“Is Natalie on board with that?”

“Yes. She said the least she could do was honor his final wish after all the years he worked here.”

“When is that going to happen?”

“After the coroner releases the body, I suppose.”

“Any word from the sheriff on the results of the autopsy?”

“No. He said he’d let me and Natalie know about the findings, so I assume they haven’t come in yet.”

Steven slid his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and surveyed the lake, grooves denting his brow. “There’s sure been some weird stuff going on here lately.”

“Amen to that.”

He refocused on her. “May I ask you a question about Natalie?”

“Yes.” But she’d weigh her answer carefully, depending on what he wanted to know. While she and the older woman were newer acquaintances, she’d developed a strong protective instinct toward her during her stay on the premises.

“I know she claims she knows nothing about the burned potholder that started the fire, and I know she hasn’t had any more dizzy spells, but with Micah gone, I’m more worried than ever about her living out here alone.

You’re with her now, but not for long. From what you’ve seen working with her every day, do you think my concerns are justified? ”

“No.” That was an easy answer to give. “She seems 100 percent fine to me. And from what she said, her doctor didn’t express any serious reservations about her health.”

“That’s good to hear.” The tension in his features eased, and the corners of his lips twitched. “But I expect I’ll still worry.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m glad she has someone to worry about her.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if she starts complaining about me being overprotective.” He flashed her a full-out grin, then waved toward the cage. “So what are you going to do with this little guy?”

“Keep giving him food and water until I take him to the vet in town next week.”

“It’s a shame we’re not closer to St. Louis. I know a vet there who could check him out. She does make occasional house calls, but this is way beyond her radius.”

She.

A friend? Neighbor? Medical provider for a four-legged companion, perhaps?

Cara kept her tone nonchalant. “Do you have a pet?”

“No. I’m not a cat person, and my long hours on the job wouldn’t be fair to a dog. Besides, pets are a big responsibility, and I have too many of those as it is.”

There wasn’t a single clue in that answer about his relationship with the female vet.

Fine. It wasn’t any of her business, anyway.

Cara smiled. “I hear you. Same story here. Well ... I’ll go ahead and take care of Thumper, then finish my circuit around the lake.”

“I’d offer to join you, but Natalie’s expecting me for lunch.”

“No worries. I’ve got the route down pat.”

“Maybe tomorrow, if you’d like some company?”

“I’d enjoy that.”

He began to walk away, but turned back after a few steps, his demeanor once more solemn. “Be careful, okay?”

The same warning Micah had written on the note to Natalie after the fire.

A tiny shiver rippled through her at the odd coincidence.

“I will. But I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

“I hope not.” He looked toward the lake again. “But I have a strange feeling about everything that’s been going on here. Natalie could have been injured in the fire, and now Micah’s dead. I wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

With that, he set off down the trail toward the cottage and the house.

Cara watched until he disappeared from sight, tended to the rabbit, and set off along the path toward the far side of the lake, quashing her sudden case of nerves.

It was silly to be uneasy.

The potholder incident had to have been an accident, even if no one could pin down how it had ended up in the trash. And Micah’s death would surely be ruled accidental or natural.

There was no reason to worry about her own safety.

None at all.

Yet as she trod over the withered, fallen leaves on this autumn day, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the warnings Micah and Steven had issued were worth heeding. That something not quite kosher was happening on the grounds of this isolated estate, with its legacy of tragedy.

But she wouldn’t be here long. Only until the end of the semester. And she had no long-term connection to this place.

So if something untoward was happening here, it couldn’t possibly affect her.

Could it?