Page 34 of Wrecked for Love (Buffaloberry Hill #1)

ELIA

The next morning, I stepped out of the house and was greeted by a puzzled Hank standing by the barn with his brow furrowed the way it always did when something didn’t quite add up.

“Morning, boss. Um…looking for your mattress?” His words came out as if he was testing the waters.

I glanced over to where I’d left it the night before—tossed off the porch in a fit of fury and exhaustion. But now, it was gone. Of course it was. Just like everything else in my life lately.

I shook my head, more to myself than at Hank.

He scratched the back of his neck, adding, “Tucker’s cleaning it up. Thought he’d hit the jackpot or something. You want it back?”

“Ah, nah. He can have it.” I kept moving, heading toward my truck. “Hey, keep an eye on Koda for me, will you?”

“Where’re you going?”

I shot Hank a look, and he didn’t need any more hints. With a silent nod, he turned back to his chores, giving me the space to drive off.

First stop—though it made my skin crawl—was The Willow.

I had to find her. Not to beg, not to plead.

I’d spent hours turning it over in my mind, and I concluded that I couldn’t just leave it hanging.

I owed it to myself to know the truth. She owed me an explanation.

Who was she really? What had she done? Did she even have the guts to be honest with me?

I had braced myself for whatever poison she might throw my way, whether to try to reel me back in or push me away for good. But this wasn’t about that. I was here for answers, plain and simple.

“Claire!” I called out as I circled the perimeter of the cottage, glancing through the windows. The furniture was still there. Most of her things too. But no sign of her.

I drove to Paul’s next. Annette was stocking up a shelf.

“Hey, Annette, is Claire here?” I asked casually.

Her eyes flashed with surprise, and even though she knew I’d been close to Claire, she hesitated. Instead, she quickly called for her father.

“El, what can I do for you today?” Paul asked, as cheerful as ever—the kind of warmth only the town’s favorite hardware store owner could pull off.

“Is Claire here?” I cut to the point.

“Uh…no. It’s her day off.”

I sighed, feeling the tension creasing my forehead.

“She might be at the shelter,” he suggested.

I gave a nod, keeping silent, and walked out.

At the shelter, I found Mr. Gunn crouching beside a Siamese cat, animatedly muttering something about finding it a new home. As soon as he noticed me, he shoved the cat back into the enclosure and stood.

“What do you want?” His gruff tone hit me. So much for Claire changing him.

“I’m looking for Claire,” I said, holding his gaze.

His eyes narrowed like he was sizing me up. “She’s gone.”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“She left!” he snapped, not bothering to soften it.

“Did she tell you where she went?”

“No,” he replied, already moving to open the front door. “Better leave now. You’re making the cats nervous.”

The cats might have been nervous with me around, but the truth was, the panic was all mine. Claire? Gone? My fingers tingled with worry while a sour ache spread inside my gut.

“Where did she go, Mr. Gunn?” My voice wavered, betraying the surge of desperation. I wasn’t going to let this slide. She owed me an explanation!

“Leave!” His bark hit me like a slap.

I stumbled out, knowing I was on my own now. I got into the truck and drove—aimless, restless—every instinct pulling me in a thousand directions, all of them pointing toward finding her.

How long would it take? Hours? Days? I didn’t care.

I scoured the surrounding towns. Each gas station, each diner, every roadside motel that might have offered her a place to hide—nothing.

But the longer I searched, the more I realized how impossible it was.

My instincts, which had always been sharp, were failing me now.

By late afternoon, with frustration eroding my patience, I circled back to the shelter. Mr. Gunn was packing up like the day had vanished in the blink of an eye.

“Please, Mr. Gunn. I need to find her,” I said.

He didn’t even look up. “Should I call for my most vicious dog to escort you out?”

“I’m not leaving. Not until I know where she is.”

Mr. Gunn finally glanced at me, his eyes narrowing with something close to pity. “Feeling the sting now, huh?”

I wasn’t sure what Claire had told him, but it was clear he knew more than I did. He could see right through me, as if all my failures were written on my face. I stood there, waiting, knowing he was weighing whether or not to help me.

After a long pause, he exhaled as though conceding. “Ever hear of ‘the shelter angel’?”

“No.”

“Claire taught me how to work with other shelters. I used to run this place like it was the only one, but she opened my eyes. We’re all stretched thin, but there’s been talk—shelters all over Idaho and Wyoming receiving large donations out of nowhere.

She’s got a soft spot for lost causes. Even here… a few times.”

I held my breath. New York—a hundred grand was missing. So she’d used the money to help struggling shelters? The thought of her playing Robin Hood for the animals gave me a tiny pang, but this wasn’t the time to get sentimental. If she wasn’t guilty, why run?

I asked, “Have you heard anything about this recently?”

He shook his head. “No. Not recently. But if you promise—if you bring her back, not as some hero riding in to save her, but as a man who deserves her—I’ll let you know the next time we get word.”

“There are things between Claire and me you don’t need to know, Mr. Gunn. But I’m not about to let her go.”

I stood there, absorbing what my own admission meant.

I wasn’t blind to the mess between us, the lies and secrets that had been laid like landmines waiting to explode.

But I owed it to her—and to myself—to look at those lies with clearer eyes.

I wasn’t about to forget them. But I was ready to understand them.

Something deep in me recognized that her truth, whatever it was, held the power to free us both.

Whether we still had a future—that was a different question.

“I’ll call you,” he said after a moment. “Now get outta here.”