He took a moment to pull on his boots, but when he still couldn’t find his shirt, he crossed the large working space and knocked on the bathroom door.
So he knocked again, harder this time. “You okay in there?”
Still no answer.
He rethought that crying or falling-apart theory and moved on to one that caused his concern to spike through the roof. Maybe she was unconscious from an injury he hadn’t noticed.
No knock this time. Mason kicked down the door and was thankful when it didn’t hit her. He looked at the sink first. Not there. Then, the separate toilet area. Not there either. And she darn sure wasn’t in the shower.
That’s when he noticed the bathroom window was wide-open.
What the devil was going on?
He hurried to the window and looked out. Thanks to that hunter’s moon, he saw her. Barely. She was at least thirty yards away, her pale blue gown fluttering in the wind.
Abbie was running as if her life depended on it.