Chapter 23

As the morning light crept over the horizon, Della woke to the sound of waves gently lapping the shore just outside the beach house. The first rays of dawn filtered through her windows, casting a soft glow over the room, almost as if the ocean itself were beckoning her. She lay there for a moment, letting the morning warmth sink in, feeling the soft linen sheets beneath her, and wondering where Hunter was. They'd had late-night coffee together, talking softly their hushed conversation that had lasted well into the night. They'd both gone their separate ways afterward, but his presence had lingered in her mind long after he left.

Stretching, she rose from bed, took her time in the bathroom, and let the water run warm as she stepped into the shower. Her mind drifted back to the night before, his quiet attentiveness. The steam rose around her, mingling with the subtle hints of the eucalyptus body wash she reached for. Each inhale felt refreshing, and for a few moments, the shower felt like an oasis of calm.

After drying off and slipping into a simple, flowy dress, Della headed down the winding staircase to the main level. The house was silent, save for the distant murmur of waves and the soft clink of silverware coming from the dining area. She followed the sound, her gaze sweeping over the open, airy layout of the beach home as she walked. She hoped to see him for breakfast.

By the time she reached the dining room, the table was already set for one, gleaming silverware and delicate china laid out neatly, and a steaming pot of coffee waiting, its aroma spreading through the air. A soft cough behind her made her turn to see the butler, Mr. Uto, entered the room carrying a plate of freshly baked scones and fruit. He placed it in front of her with a polite bow, his expression polite.

 She sat down, pouring herself a cup and watching the dark liquid fill the cup, but the absence of Hunter was more palpable than the silence.

"Good morning, Miss Emily."

"Will Hunter be joining me this morning?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.

Mr. Uto cleared his throat. "Mr. Hardecker has taken an early ride to town, ma'am. He left a message saying he would return before dinner."

Della nodded, though a hint of disappointment touched her. She picked up her coffee cup, trying to focus on the view beyond the dining room window, where the morning mist still clung to the trees. But her mind lingered on Hunter—on the mysterious way he seemed to retreat just as they were beginning to reach an...

"Did he say… anything else?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral, though she was hoping for even the smallest hint.

"No, ma'am," Mr. Allen replied, his gaze respectful, but Della felt he knew more than he let on. "He simply mentioned that matters required his attention in town. He didn't want to wake you. Mr. Hardecker asked me also to prepare something for you today," he said in a smooth, measured voice. "He arranged a private picnic for you on the beach. Everything has been set up."

A faint blush colored her cheeks at the thought. "Hunter did that?" she murmured, surprised but flattered. Yet, a small pang of disappointment followed as she realized he hadn't planned on joining her. She managed a nod and a grateful smile to the butler, who gestured toward the beach where, in the distance, she could see a low table set up, with a large blanket spread out over the sand.

After breakfast, Della walked down to the beach, feeling the sand grow warm beneath her feet as she approached the picnic. The butler had arranged an elegant, yet inviting setting: a woven blanket with soft cushions, a small table filled with freshly cut fruits, a variety of snacks, and a bottle of sparkling water in a glass carafe. There was a gentle, soothing breeze, and the sun's golden rays spilled over the entire scene, making it feel like something out of a dream.

Della took a seat, her gaze drifting out over the rolling waves. It was beautiful, quite, but a bit lonely. She hadn't realized how much she'd been looking forward to having Hunter there with her. His absence made the scene feel strangely hollow, as if something crucial was missing. She let out a soft sigh, adjusting a cushion behind her and leaning back.

The butler had thoughtfully included a small stack of books near the edge of the blanket. Feeling like she needed the distraction, Della reached for one and scanned the title, surprised to see it was a classic novel she'd meant to read ages ago. She opened it, letting her eyes wander over the first few lines as she took a bite of a ripe, juicy strawberry. The sweet, tangy flavor melded with the salty sea air, and she sank into the story, letting the words pull her away from her lingering sadness.

As the afternoon drifted on, she found herself engrossed in the book. Every so often, her gaze would lift to the horizon, half-expecting to see Hunter walking toward her along the shore. But each time, the beach remained empty except for the gentle ebb and flow of the waves. She tried to focus on the book, letting its words transport her. She could almost feel her worries and doubts melt away, each page pulling her deeper into the story's world, making her forget her own.

But, as the sky began to deepen into shades of pink and orange, she found herself closing the book, unable to completely shake the nagging thought that she was there alone.