Cole rose only enough to reach for a thick robe hanging nearby.
Lila immediately turned away.
She heard water move.
Fabric.
Boots against the floorboards.
Then his voice.
“All right.”
She turned back.
Cole stood in dark trousers and the heavy robe, wet hair still dripping over his forehead.
He looked far more like the Cole she knew.
Unfortunately, that did not erase the previous image.
Lila decided never to examine that problem closely.
Cole moved toward the bathhouse stove.
“Don’t touch anything.”
“I wasn’t.”
He crouched.
Looked beneath the copper line.
Then around the wall.
Lila crossed her arms.
“Well?”
“Something’s wrong.”
Her stomach tightened.
“What?”
“The draft.”
“I don’t understand.”
Cole looked toward the vent.
“This room normally clears steam faster.”
Lila stared toward the hazy ceiling.
Only then did she realize how thick the air had become.
Cole stepped toward the window and opened it wide.
Cold Texas night air rushed inside.
Steam twisted toward the opening.
Lila took a deeper breath.
“What does that mean?”
“It means somebody blocked part of the outside exhaust.”
“Could it kill you?”
Cole looked at her.
“If I stayed long enough.”
A chill moved through Lila.
The note was real.
Not some servant’s prank.
Not a jealous ranch hand.
Someone had expected Cole Bennett to be in this room tonight.
Someone had altered something.
Someone had known precisely when he bathed.
Cole looked at the message again.
“Whoever wrote this saved my life.”
Lila whispered:
“Then why not sign it?”
He looked at her.
“Because they’re afraid.”
“Of whoever did it?”
“Yes.”
Lila considered.
Then another thought arrived.
“Or of you.”
Cole’s eyes narrowed.
She immediately regretted the sentence.
Not because it was false.
Because he heard truth more sharply than accusation.
“What does that mean?”
Lila folded her arms tighter.
“People here are afraid of you.”
“I know.”
“You say that as though you’re discussing rain.”
“I’ve found fear efficient.”
“There.”
“What?”
“That.”
Lila gestured toward him.
“You say things like that.”
Cole almost smiled.
“This is not the time.”
“No, it may be exactly the time.”
He looked at her.
Lila continued.
“If someone working here knows something dangerous but thinks telling you means getting dragged into whatever comes next, they might warn me instead.”
“Why you?”
The question hurt slightly.
Cole noticed too late.
Lila looked away.
“Because I manage the house.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.”
Cole stepped closer.
“Lila.”
She met his eyes.
“You came running into this room because you thought I was hurt.”
“Yes.”
“Someone else may have chosen you because they know I listen to you.”
Her heart stumbled.
“That seems unlikely.”
“It’s true.”
She stared.
Cole looked toward the note.
“Which means whoever wrote this knows us.”
Us.
One tiny word.
Lila hated how much it mattered.
He continued.
“They know my schedule.”
“Yes.”
“Your room.”
“Yes.”
“And that you’d bring this to me.”
The tenderness disappeared from her thoughts.
Someone had been watching.
Not merely Cole.
Her too.
She looked toward the bathhouse door.
Cole immediately saw the fear.
“Stay close.”
She almost laughed.
“That sounded like an order.”
“It was.”
“Cole.”
His gaze softened.
“Please.”