mine before returning to Patch. She gives me a sharp nod. That’s progress.
“Not gonna talk?”
This time I earn a shrug.
I remain a safe distance away, crouching down to her level. “All right, that’s just fine. You don’t have to say a peep.” I almost grin at that. “Not a single peep.”
A groove forms between her brows.
“Have you heard that before?”
She lifts a brow, adding a slow shake of her head.
“It’s a tiny little noise that a baby chick makes. Peep, peep.” I flap my folded elbows for good measure, earning me a grin.
The girl grins at my attempt to put on a good show.
“You like that word?”
She nods.
“All right. So, I’ll call you Peep? It does have a nice ring to it.”
Another bob of her head.
“That’s settled then.” I slap a smile on my face, hoping it doesn’t look too much like a grimace. “Are you hurt?”
A quick shake in the negative.
The ball in my chest deflates ever so slightly. “Should I have someone come get you? Maybe a friendly police officer?” Did those even exist? I wasn’t one to prove that theory.
She visibly recoils, shrinking back against the tree. Her lower lip trembles, and tears glisten in her eyes. Shit. The last thing I want to do is make her cry again.
“Okay, wrong suggestion. Can you tell me your name?”
Her throat moves with a heavy swallow. I’m almost certain she’s not going to answer me. She tucks a long braid behind her ear, blinking up at me. “I’m Amelia, or Millie for short.”
A lightbulb flickers on in my brain. “Millie, of course. My name is Crawford.”
“Ford for short?” Her expectant gaze holds mine.
“Yep, you’re right.” I jut my chin at the guard dog turned teddy bear that’s sprawled in her lap. “And that is Patch.”
Her answering smile is brighter than the mid-morning sun. “My teacher tells me that I have a good memory.”
“I bet you do. Shouldn’t you be in school today?”
She clamps her jaw shut for a moment. “Uh, yeah.”
“So, what’re you doing in the woods?”
Her small fingers stroke through Patch’s fur. The motion appears to soothe them both. My dog is practically asleep on top of Millie. “They took all of us for a walk to enjoy the nice weather.”
That sounds like a regurgitated phrase. “How did you end up alone?”
A dimple dents her freckled cheek. “I followed a bunny this way.”
I’m far too familiar with that. “Did you catch it?”
“Nope.” She doesn’t add more. This girl could battle with me for fewest words spoken.
“Why didn’t you go back to your class?”
Millie wrinkles her nose. “I couldn’t find them.”
“Did you call out for help?”
Her chin quivers and a fresh threat of tears glisten in her eyes. Millie shakes her head.
“Why not?”
“I don’t talk to them.”
If anyone can understand that logic, it’s me. “But you’re speaking to me.”
She squints against the blinding sun. A cloud must’ve parted. “You’re not scary.”
“Well, uh, thanks.” That might be the kindest compliment I’ve received. I cough to cover the pressure in my throat. “So, they didn’t look for you?”
A tiny shrug. “I dunno.”
“Were they saying your name?”
She bobs her head. “I think so.”
“And you didn’t answer?”
“No.” A harsh shake of her head follows.
Right, no talking. “Have you been gone long?”
Millie hums. “I don’t think so.”
And this line of questioning is only causing delay. Keegan will be in a fit of fury if she discovers that her daughter is lost in the woods. Thinking about her fired up and fuming gets my blood pumping faster. But those thoughts are wildly inappropriate, considering the situation. A splash of frigid reality smacks me in the face.
There’s no way Keegan is single. That’s the indisputable fact I keep returning to. The last thing I should be doing is obsessing over a woman who’s probably attached to another. Within moments of meeting her, she threatened to steal the stale air in my lungs. She’s easily the most beautiful knockout I’ve had the pleasure of ogling. Giving her a second thought, and countless more, is the cruelest form of torture. I could never be enough for someone of her caliber. Self-loathing pep talk aside, I can’t seem to help myself.
“Should we call your mom? Or dad?”
Millie’s face scrunches up as if she smells a foul odor. “It’s just my mom. She’s raising me all by herself.” The pride radiating through her voice makes my own chest puff up.
A tight coil I didn’t previously notice loosens from my stomach. I flex my muscles, shoving the misguided relief away. A