Candice looked out the window as they drove. She’d always loved this part of Montana. She’d grown up in the wilderness as a little girl, before her parents died and she’d had to move to Seattle to live with her aunt and uncle in a condo. Ever since, she’d longed to go back home. But like everything else she really wanted, it wasn’t practical.

It wasn’t practical to live in the country. It wasn’t practical to be a painter. It wasn’t practical to fall madly and deeply in love. At twenty-six, Candice Gray had given up on all her dreams.

As she watched Wyatt McCloud driving his powerful game warden truck down the rural highway, she had a tingling in her belly she hadn’t felt in a long time. This guy was the real deal. Like some kind of mythical cowboy out of an old western movie.

Candice had never wanted a man to save her from anything or provide her anything she couldn’t provide for herself. But the sight of Wyatt made her think that a man like that could give her something far better. She giggled under her breath as the tingle coiled around the base of her spine.

“What is it?” Wyatt asked in that low, rumbling voice of his.

“It’s nothing. I just remembered something my aunt told me before I left.”

“What’s that?”

Her mind raced to come up with something. She couldn’t tell him she’d been imagining those big arms encircling her curvy frame.

“She warned me about bears in the woods. Told me to pack bear spray. She never said anything about shifters being murdered.” Her aunt really had said all that. Reliving what she’d just seen made her feel faint.

Wyatt just rumbled and gripped the steering wheel more tightly. “She was right. We do get plenty of bears up here. Black, grizzly. Got to be careful. A real grizzly can take your head off.”

“I know. I’ve had wilderness training. Usually, I’m safe out there.”

He glanced at her, his eyes scanning her rugged khaki pants, lightweight button-up shirt, and hiking boots. He nodded. “I’m sure you are. What makes a city girl like you want to come out here by yourself?”

“Who says I’m by myself?” she said with mock offense. Did he just assume she didn’t have a boyfriend or even a friend out here with her?

“You never mentioned anyone else.”

“True. Well, I am alone. Anyway, I’m not really a city girl. I’m from Montana, actually. Born and raised, until my parents died when I was thirteen. That’s when I moved to Seattle to be with my aunt and uncle. Do you need to know this for the investigation?” She was beginning to feel uncomfortable talking about her personal life with a stranger.

“No.” He pulled in front of a small sheriff’s station on the edge of town and cut the engine. He came around to her door and helped her out of the truck, not that she needed it. But it was raised fairly high off the ground. He led her into the station and brought her back to his office.

“Would you like some coffee?” he asked, after showing her to a seat in front of his desk.

“Sure.”

Wyatt left Candice alone in the room, and she looked around at his things. It was a smallish space, with shelves of books on wildlife management and ecology stacked against the wall. Filing cabinets and a few houseplants in the window. His framed degrees hung on the wall next to a framed award.

The space was tidy and had a homey feel to it, even though it was clearly a functioning office in a sheriff’s department. Wyatt came back a moment later with two paper cups of coffee and handed her one of them.

“You seem like a cream and sugar kind of girl,” he said, sitting behind the desk.

Candice took a sip. It was exactly how she liked it. “Mmm. Thanks. This is perfect after what I’ve been through today.”

“I’d like to get a better description of the men who ran from the scene. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“They weren’t wearing hunting vests.”

“There were two?”

“Yes. I think. I heard two.”

“Can you describe them?”

“I only kind of saw one of them. He had dark hair. At least it looked dark in the shadows, and he was tall, taller than the second man.”

“What kind of builds did they have?”

“Big, like they worked outdoors, but not as big as you.” She looked away when she said the words, heat rising in her face. Wyatt was an impressive man. Everything about him made her burn with excitement. She’d just witnessed a murder and a dead shifter change into a man. She shouldn’t be flushed with arousal.

Wyatt rumbled. “I’m going to record this,” he said, bringing a tape recorder up to the desk top. “Please tell me what happened from the beginning, in your own words.”

Candice recounted the story from the beginning, ending with the dead man on the forest floor. When she was done, Wyatt turned off the recorder and thanked her for her statement.

“I need to talk to the sheriff. I’ll be right back to drive you to your campsite.”

Candice watched Wyatt’s perfect behind walk out the door, leaving her breathless with her heart pounding.