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Garrett Bravo's Runaway Bride
Christine Rimmer
Once again, she's running…When bride-to-be Cami Lockwood finally escapes the clutches of her domineering family, she accidentally stumbles straight into the mountain retreat of the most alluring man she’s ever met. Garrett Bravo’s never been lucky in love. But that’s before a one-of-a-kind heiress falls headlong onto his doorstep.But this time, she's running toward something!Garrett’s mother can’t resist matchmaking for her relentlessly unavailable son. So what better way to evade her meddling than to pretend that his accidental arrangement with creative, unique Cami is the real thing? Just one catch: He hadn’t bargained on falling head over heels for the runaway bride turned woman of his dreams….


Once again, she’s running...
When bride-to-be Cami Lockwood finally escapes the clutches of her domineering family, she accidentally stumbles straight into the mountain retreat of the most alluring man she’s ever met. Garrett Bravo’s never been lucky in love. But that’s before a one-of-a-kind heiress rushes headlong onto his doorstep.
But this time, she’s running toward something!
Garrett’s mother can’t resist matchmaking for her relentlessly unavailable son. So what better way to evade her meddling than to pretend that his accidental arrangement with creative, unique Cami is the real thing? Just one catch: he hadn’t bargained on falling head over heels for the runaway bride turned woman of his dreams...
“It all could have gone so terribly wrong.”
“But it didn’t.”
She caught her lower lip between her pretty white teeth. “I was so scared.”
“Hey.” He brushed a hand along her arm, just to reassure her. “You’re okay. And Munch is fine.”
She drew in a shaky breath and then, well, somehow it just happened. She dropped the purse. When she reached out, so did he.
He pulled her into his arms and breathed in the scent of her skin, so fresh and sweet with a hint of his own soap and shampoo. He heard the wind through the trees, a bird calling far off—and Munch at their feet, happily panting.
It was a fine moment and he savored the hell out of it.
“Garrett,” she whispered, like his name was her secret. And she tucked her blond head under his chin. She felt so good, so soft in all the right places. He wrapped her tighter in his arms and almost wished he would never have to let her go.
* * *
The Bravos Of Justice Creek: Where bold hearts collide under Western skies
Garrett Bravo’s Runaway Bride
Christine Rimmer


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHRISTINE RIMMER came to her profession the long way around. She tried everything from acting to teaching to telephone sales. Now she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly. She insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine lives with her family in Oregon. Visit her at www.christinerimmer.com (http://www.christinerimmer.com).
For MSR.
Always.
Contents
Cover (#u27356478-c7fe-5ca7-bb11-4ba0a470fe1c)
Back Cover Text (#u969f09c7-f4db-5f9a-8a4c-f6fbce3971fa)
Introduction (#u0b04a89a-e1dd-530b-8ef6-278e3e315a59)
Title Page (#u1454b779-0839-5dfd-99f0-5e82c1e9e7a8)
About the Author (#ue5824dc9-3dce-5adb-8032-d8070d4157cc)
Dedication (#u0350c5ab-1106-5823-bd96-6736bf58178c)
Chapter One (#u56ae19a6-3320-5ee4-8c02-f36ecc00b16a)
Chapter Two (#u860405f0-0a7c-54e7-b82f-b4425fa8504e)
Chapter Three (#u91c8939f-ee29-527d-8a1b-de20c73d4ff0)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ub2003608-5961-58c8-b686-03aa3a447fa5)
When the battered bride staggered into the circle of firelight, it was after nine at night, and Garrett Bravo was sitting outside his isolated getaway cabin slow-roasting a hot dog on a stick.
For a weirdly suspended moment, Garrett knew he must be hallucinating.
But how could that be? He’d never been the type who saw things that weren’t there. And he’d only had a couple of beers.
His Aussie sheepdog, Munch, let out a sharp whine of surprise.
“Munch. Stay.” He glanced sternly down at the dog, who quivered in place and stared at the apparition on the other side of their campfire.
Garrett looked up again. She was still there.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Finally, with a ridiculous shout of confusion and lingering disbelief, he jumped to his feet. The sudden movement knocked his hot dog off the stick and down to the dirt. He gaped at it as it fell. Munch cocked an ear and glanced up at him expectantly. When he failed to say no, the dog made short work of the fallen treat.
“Oh, really,” said the tattered vision in white. She came around the fire toward him, waving a grimy hand. “You don’t need to get up. It’s worse than it looks, I promise you.”
It looked pretty bad to him. Leaves decorated her straggling updo and nasty bruises marred her smooth bare shoulders and arms. Her left eye was deep purple and swollen shut. The poor woman’s big white dress was ripped in several places and liberally streaked with mud. And her bare feet? As battered as the rest of her.
“My God,” he croaked. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She blew a tangled hank of blond hair out of her good eye and shrugged. “Well, I’ve been better.”
How could she be so calm? Had her groom gotten violent? If so, the man deserved a taste of his own damn medicine—and speaking of medicine, she needed a doctor. He should call for an ambulance, stat. He dropped his hot-dog stick on top of the ice chest by his chair and dug in a pocket for his phone.
But the phone wasn’t there. Because he’d left it in the cabin. Up here on the mountain, cell reception was nil.
Garrett let out a long string of bad words and then demanded, “Who did this to you?”
The bride remained unconcerned. She hitched a thumb back over her shoulder. “Little accident back down the road a ways.”
“Your groom...?”
“Oh, he’s still in Denver. Some stranger ran me off the road.” As he tried to process that bit of news, she added, “Camilla Lockwood. But please call me Cami.” She offered a scratched, dirty hand.
Numbly, he took it. It felt cool and soft in his grip. And real. She was definitely real. “Garrett. Garrett Bravo.”
“Good to meet you.” A frown tightened the skin between her eyes. “You okay, Garrett? You look a little pale.”
He looked pale? “How will I call you an ambulance when my phone doesn’t work?”
“You won’t.” She reached up, clasped his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s fine, really. I don’t need a doctor.”
“But—”
“Take my word for it, I would know. You think this looks bad?” She indicated her body with graceful sweeps of both hands. “I’ve been through worse. Lots worse—and who’s this?” She dropped to a crouch, her giant dress belling out around her, and held out a hand to his dog. Munch made a questioning sound. “Come on, sweetie pie,” she coaxed. When Garrett made no objections, Munch let out a happy little bark and scuttled right over. “Oh, aren’t you the cutest boy?” She scratched his ears, rubbed his spotted coat—and glanced up at Garrett with a beaming smile. “Beautiful dog. Such pretty markings.” Garrett dipped to her level, took her arm and pulled her to her feet again. “Hey!” She tried to jerk free. “Ease up.”
“We need to get you down the mountain.”
“No, we don’t.”
Ignoring her protests, he started pulling her toward his Jeep Wrangler Rubicon on the far side of the cabin.
“Garrett. Stop, I mean it.” She dug in her heels.
“Camilla, come on now.”
“I said, call me Cami. And no. Just no. I’m not going anywhere.” As she whipped her arm free of his grasp, he debated the advisability of scooping her up and carrying her bodily to the Jeep. But even with all the scratches and bruises, she seemed to have a lot of fight left in her. And say he did manage to get her over there and into the SUV. How would he convince her to stay put while he ran into the cabin for the keys?
Maybe he could reason with her. “You need a doctor. I only want to take you down the mountain to Justice Creek General.”
“No means no, Garrett.” She braced her hands on her hips and narrowed her one working eye to a slit. “And I have clearly said no.”
So much for reason. “Will you at least sit down? Rest for a minute?”
She flipped that same tangled hank of hair off her forehead. “Sure.”
Before she could change her mind, he caught her elbow and dragged her over to his chair. “Here. Sit.” She dropped to the chair with a large huff of breath, her big dress poofing out as she landed, then quickly deflating. Slowly and gently, he explained, “Relax, okay? I’m just going to go into the cabin and get the first aid kit.”
“First aid can wait.”
“But—”
“Please, Garrett.” She picked a twig from her hair and tossed it over her shoulder. “I need water. My tongue’s just a dried-up old piece of leather in my mouth, you know?”
That tongue of hers seemed to be working pretty well to him. But yeah. Water. He could do that. “Stay right there?”
“I won’t move a muscle.” Munch, always a sucker for a pretty girl, sidled close and plunked down beside the chair. For the dog, she had a tender smile. “Hey, honey.” She stroked his head. “What’s his name?”
“Munch.”
“Cute,” she said. And Garrett just stood there, staring down at her as she petted his dog. Finally, she glanced up at him again and asked hopefully, “Water?”
“Right.” Against his better judgment, he left her alone with only Munch to look after her as he ran for the cabin. At the door, he paused with his hand on the knob. What if she took off?
Well, what if she did? If she insisted on wandering Moosejaw Mountain in the dark barefoot in her torn-up wedding dress, far be it from him to try to stop her.
He went in, filled a tall insulated bottle with water, grabbed the dish towel and ran back out.
She was still there. “You’re a lifesaver,” she said when he handed her the bottle.
He flipped open the cooler, grabbed a handful of ice and wrapped it in the towel. “For your eye.”
She took a long drink and then let out a happy sigh. “Thank you.” Only then did she accept the ice. Pressing it gingerly to her bad eye, she frowned. “Don’t tell me I stole your only chair.” She started to rise.
“Relax.” He patted the air between them until she dropped back into the seat. “I’ve got a spare.” He grabbed the extra camp chair from where he’d left it leaning against a tree, snapped it open and set it down on the other side of the cooler from her.
Now what?
Awkward seconds struggled by as they just sat there. She sipped her water and iced her eye and he tried to decide what he should do next.
Maybe she needed food. “Are you hungry, Cami?”
She gave a long sigh. “Starved.”
He could help with that at least. “How about a hot dog?”
She rewarded him with a radiant smile. “A hot dog would really hit the spot about now.”
* * *
A half an hour later, the beat-up bride had drunk two bottles of water and accepted three hot dogs, each of which she’d shared with Munch. The dog remained stretched out beside her. Periodically, he would lift his head from his paws to gaze up at her adoringly.
Garrett still felt bad that he hadn’t convinced her to let him drive her to the hospital. She could have at least allowed him to get out the first aid kit and sterilize a few of those scratches.
He asked glumly, “Do you have a head injury?”
She repositioned the makeshift ice pack on her injured eye. “And you need to this know why?”
He shrugged. “I was going to offer you a beer. But if you’ve got a concussion, maybe not.”
That earned him another dazzling smile. “A beer would be so perfect.”
Apparently, she was never going to answer the head injury question. But she seemed reasonably clearheaded, so he flipped open the cooler and passed her a beer.
Tucking the ice pack into the cup holder on her chair, she popped the top and giggled like a happy kid when it foamed. He watched her throat move as she swallowed, after which she settled back in her chair and stared up at the star-thick Colorado sky.
She really did seem okay. And at the moment, he couldn’t think of any more ways she might let him help her. He settled back, too.
Somewhere in the trees, a night bird twittered.
Cami made a soft, contented little sound. “Got to hand it to you, Garrett. This is the life.”
He completely agreed. “Yeah. Munch and I have been up here for almost two weeks now, only driving down the mountain twice for food and supplies. The first few days were tough. I kept worrying about work. But eventually, I got over that and started enjoying the quiet and the big trees. Overall it’s been great.”
“So you don’t live up here?”
“No. I’m on vacation. I’ve got three more days. Wednesday, I have to head home.”
“To?” She stared up at the sky, the beer can dangling from one hand as she idly scratched Munch’s back with the other.
“I live down in Justice Creek.”
Cami said dreamily, “I’ve been to Justice Creek a couple of times. Such a pretty little town.”
“I grew up there. My sister and I run a construction company.”
“What’s your sister’s name?”
“Nell. She’s a pistol.” He rolled his head Cami’s way again and found her watching him. Otherworldly, the gleaming blue of that good eye. “You would like her.”
Cami’s dirty angel’s face looked wistful. “A pistol, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. Nell never did a damn thing she didn’t want to do. She’s unpredictable, but you can count on her, too. I always know she has my back.”
“She sounds amazing.” Cami turned her face to the stars again. “I wish I could be like that.” Garrett was about to tell her she was more than unpredictable enough, when she glanced down at her torn dress and said in a small voice, “I’m thinking you’ve already guessed that I ran out on my wedding.” She slanted him a glance. At his nod, she faced the sky again and continued. “Biggest wedding of the season. Everyone who’s anyone in Denver was there. I was going to go through with it up to the very last moment—which means, I didn’t plan my escape.” She wrinkled her nose at the stars. “That’s me. No planning. I never think ahead. When I can’t take it anymore, I just freak and run. Today, that happened during the wedding march. My bridesmaids were already on their way down the aisle. The wedding planner signaled me out of the bride’s room...” Her voice trailed off.
He prompted, “And then?”
“And then I just grabbed my purse off the vanity table and sprinted out the back door. The door opened on the parking lot and I’d made my dad drive me in my car for the ride to the church.” A low, sad chuckle escaped her. “Okay. I confess, I may have done a little planning, after all. Because I had a spare set of keys in my purse. I jumped in my BMW and took off with no plan after that whatsoever and nowhere in particular to go.” She paused for another sip of beer.
When she settled back again, she continued. “Eventually I got out on the highway. I took an off-ramp. I saw the sign to Moosejaw Mountain. I took that turn. It’s one twisty road getting up here, Garrett, but my 750i handled like a dream. I would still have that car if some idiot in a green pickup hadn’t come barreling down as I was going up. Ran me right over the side of the road and into a very steep ravine.”
“My God.” Had she been knocked out, then? He probably shouldn’t have given her that beer.
She raised the beer in question toward the distant moon and took another swallow. “I admit, it was scary while it was happening.”
“Were you knocked unconscious?”
“No. But the airbags deployed and somehow, I got smacked in the eye. When the car finally stopped rolling, I couldn’t get the door open. And that, along with everything else—how messed up my life had gotten, the way I’d run out on my wedding that never should have been happening in the first place—well, it all just made me tired. So I took a nap.”
“A nap,” he echoed disbelievingly. “In a wrecked car at the bottom of a ravine?”
“That’s right.” She was defiant. “I closed my eyes and went to sleep—and you should see the way you’re looking at me. Same way my parents do. Like you wonder how much brain damage I’ve sustained. And you don’t even know about the coma.”
He gulped. “There’s a coma?”
She waved a dismissing hand. “That was six years ago. Yeah, there are scars. But I’m fully recovered—well, I mean, as much as anyone can recover from an experience like that. Anyhoo, back to the ravine. Whoever was driving that green pickup didn’t bother to stop or call for help, so when I finally decided I really had to make the effort to get out of the car and get back up to the road, I was on my own.”
“That driver should be arrested. Did you get a plate number?”
She gave him a look of great patience. “Sorry, Garrett. I was kind of busy trying to keep from rolling off the side of the road. And then I did roll off the road. And then I just gave up for a while and took a nap. When I decided to get moving again, it took me a long time to get the car door open. And scrambling up out of there? That’s where most of these scratches and bruises came from. It was not the most fun I ever had, believe me. But I finally got back up to the road. I stood there and thought, down or up? I’d already been down, so I started climbing. I just kept walking until I got here.”
“We should be calling the police on that guy in the pickup. Leaving the scene of an accident is a crime.”
“Too bad your phone doesn’t work.” She didn’t sound the least regretful.
He tried one more time to get through to her. “If you’d just get in the Jeep, we could—”
“Uh-uh. I really am okay, Garrett. And I like it here. I’m free at last and I’m not going anywhere until I’m ready to go. No one runs my life but me. Not ever again.” She offered another toast with her beer can. “From this day forward, I decide where I go and when I’m leaving. Okay, I didn’t handle my escape very well. Yes, I ran away like I always do. I left Charles at the altar and I’m sorry about that.”
“Charles is your fiancé?”
“Was my fiancé. Charles and I grew up together. His parents and my parents are good friends. He and I are both vice presidents at my family’s company, WellWay Naturals.”
Garrett had heard of WellWay. Their products were in all the big grocery stores. “The vitamin company?”
She nodded. “Vitamins, supplements and skin care products. Charles has been after me for years to marry him. I kept telling him no. Eventually, though, he wore me down. I messed up, I know it. I handled the whole thing really badly, but at least I didn’t marry him, and someday he’ll thank me.” She blew out a weary breath. “And yes, I ran away again. But this time, I own it. This time, I’m laying claim to my future. I’m going forward now, not back.”
“Forward to...?”
“When I figure that out, you’ll be the first to know.” She drank, plunked the empty can on the cooler between them and granted him another gorgeous smile. “So then.” She grabbed the ice again and reapplied it to her eye. “You know my story. What brings you to this beautiful neck of the woods, Garrett?”
Is she actually out of her mind? he wondered. Could be. But for some reason, he liked her. He went ahead and told her the embarrassing truth. “I’m kind of hiding out.”
“I can relate. Who are you hiding from?”
“My mother.”
“What did she do to you?”
“It’s what she’s trying to do. The past few years, she’s been obsessed with seeing me and my sisters and brothers happily married. Nell and I are the only ones still single. Even my mother knows better than to try to tell Nellie what to do. So lately Ma’s been pestering me.”
“Pestering you, how?”
“Demanding I come see her and then browbeating me when I get there about how it’s time I found love and happiness at last. Introducing me to very nice women I don’t want to go out with. Lecturing me about ‘trying again’ every chance she gets.”
“Again?”
“I was married. Years ago. It didn’t work out. I suck at relationships.” Cami chuckled. He shot her a frown. “That’s funny?”
“It’s just the way you said it...”
“What way?”
“Really fast, like you wanted to get it over with and you didn’t want me to ask you any questions about it.”
“I did. And I don’t.”
“Duly noted.” She poked at her black eye, wincing a little, and then iced it some more. Her ring finger was bare.
“You lost your ring.”
She shook her head. “Before I left the church parking lot, I took it off and stuck it in the glove box. I’m guessing it’s still there. Go on, about your mother and your needing to get away?”
He shrugged. “Long story short, I’m kind of a workaholic and I needed a break from everything, my mother most of all. So I’m here where my mother would not be caught dead—roughing it in a one-room cabin on top of a mountain. And she can’t even call me because there’s no cell service.”
Cami clucked her tongue, chiding him. “You seem way too pleased with yourself when you say that.”
“I kind of am. Unfortunately, to appease her, I did promise her I’d have dinner with her the night I get back to town. But I’ll deal with that when it happens. For now, Ma’s off my back and I’m up here in the great wide-open, taking a breather, trying to figure out what to change up to get more out of life.”
“Well, Garrett. What do you know? We have stuff in common.”
For the first time since she’d materialized out of nowhere, he allowed himself to laugh. “I guess we do.”
“And I sure am glad you were here.” Cami was picking bits of crushed, dried leaves out of her hair with her free hand.
“You look tired.” At his softly spoken words, she made a cute humming sound that might have been agreement. He asked in a coaxing tone, “You ever gonna let me patch you up a little?”
Cami worked another leaf free of her tangled hair. He accepted that she wouldn’t answer. But then she did. “I would kill for a bath about now.”
“That can be arranged.”
* * *
Cami decided she loved Garrett’s cabin.
On the outside, it was simple, of weathered wood with old-fashioned sash-type windows and a front porch with stone steps.
Inside, it was cozy and plain, just one big living area with the kitchen on one wall, the bed on another and a sofa under the front window.
When he ushered her ahead of him into the dinky bathroom, she grinned and brushed a finger along the wooden rim of the tub. “It’s half of a barrel.”
“That’s right, a whiskey barrel.” He hung back in the doorway. There wasn’t enough room for both of them in there. “A full-size tub wouldn’t fit.” He was tall and broad-shouldered with beautiful light brown eyes that made her think of melting caramel. Definitely a hottie, with a few days’ worth of scruff on his lean cheeks, dressed in old jeans, dusty hiking boots and a faded brown denim jacket over a white T-shirt. He was so easy to be with. Already, she liked him a lot and had to keep reminding herself that she hardly knew him.
“I put in the tub and hot water up here this spring,” he said. “Before that, it was sponge baths or nothing.”
She glanced around at the vintage sink, the milk-glass light fixture and the knotty-pine paneling. “I like it. It’s super rustic.”
He indicated the metal caddy hooked on the outside of the tub. “Soap and shampoo are right there. Towel and washcloth under the sink. There’s a new toothbrush and a comb you can use in the medicine cabinet. I’ll go back out to the fire and leave the window over the sofa open. Give me a holler if you need anything.”
“Would you undo the hooks at the back of my dress before you go?”
“Uh, sure.” He took a step into the tight space and she backed up to meet him.
Gentle fingers brushed the skin between her shoulder blades and then worked their way down. She pressed the dress to her chest to keep it from falling off. “All done,” he said after a minute.
She looked over her shoulder and met those melty eyes. “Take this thing?” To her, the dress represented all that was wrong in her life. It wasn’t even her style, so poufy and traditional. Her mom had coaxed her into choosing it. “I don’t think there’s room for both it and me in here.”
He had soft lips to go with the melty eyes. Those lips turned up slightly. “Uh. Sure.” He was looking at her kind of funny, like he still didn’t quite know what to make of her—which was nothing new. People often looked at her that way. Maybe he was thinking she shouldn’t be so quick to take off her dress in front of him.
Well, maybe she shouldn’t. But then again, why not?
She trusted him. He’d been nothing but kind to her, helping her all he could while at the same time respecting her wishes. Never once had he bullied her to do things his way. This man was not going to make a move on her—or if he did, he’d already proven that he understood the word no.
Cami dropped the dress. It plopped around her feet like a parachute, belling out, then collapsing. Underneath, she wore a tight white satin bustier that ended in ruffles at her hips. She’d thrown her silk stockings away back down the mountain somewhere. There hadn’t been much left of them after she dragged herself up to the road. As for her five-inch Louboutins and her giant half-slip covered in a big froth of tulle? She’d dumped those during the trek up out of the ravine.
The bustier, with satin panties underneath, covered her as well as a swimsuit would. It also showed the long, pale scar cutting down the outside of her right thigh—but she’d never been the least sensitive about that. She considered it a war wound, proof of an earlier attempt to escape a life that was always a prison for her.
Stepping free of the acres of dirty white lace, she held it up to him. “Burn it, will you?”
He took it gingerly. “What will you wear?”
“I don’t even care.” Unfortunately, she’d left her suitcases in Denver—turned them over to Charles yesterday to load into the limousine. She had nothing but the dress and her underwear, but she would go naked before she put that thing on again. “Burn it.”
“Up to you.” Garrett backed into the main room and shut the door.
Cami turned to the barrel tub and flipped on the taps.
* * *
Garrett had just doused the fire for the night when he heard the cabin door open.
Munch ran up the steps to greet their surprise guest as she emerged from inside wrapped in a towel. The light from the cabin outlined her curvy shape in gold as she knelt to give Munch the attention he’d come looking for.
As Garrett mounted the steps, she rose. “Thank you. Really. I feel so much better now.”
“Good—and it’s past midnight. You think you could sleep?” With a soft sound of agreement, she turned and went back inside. He and Munch followed her. Garrett shut the door.
She faced him with a sigh. “Did you burn it?”
“It’s nothing but ash.” He dropped to the old bentwood chair by the door and started taking off his boots.
When he looked up again, she was still standing there wearing a wistful smile. “Thanks.”
“Any time. You want one of my shirts to sleep in?”
Her smile turned radiant. “Yes, please.”
He got a faded Pearl Jam T-shirt from the dresser and handed it over.
“Thank you. Again.” She disappeared into the bathroom, emerging in the shirt that covered her to midthigh.
There was another awkward moment and it came sharply home to him that he didn’t know this woman at all. They were two strangers about to share the same sleeping space.
“I’ll just take my turn in the bathroom.” He eased around her, went in and shut the bathroom door. Hanging on the back of it next to his sweats was that sexy corset thingy of hers. It struck him all over again how bizarre this whole situation was.
When he came back out wearing the sweats, she’d already stretched out on the couch. She was settling his old afghan over herself.
He moved a few steps closer. “Cami, take the bed.”
“No way.” She wiggled her toes under the blanket and adjusted the thin throw pillow under her head. “This couch isn’t big enough for you and we both know it. Your feet would be hanging off the end.” Munch made himself comfortable in the space between the rickety coffee table and the sofa. She put her hand down and stroked his spotted coat. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not budging.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Oh, yes, I will. From this day forward, I will be suiting the hell out of myself, just you watch me.”
He got the extra pillow from the bed and gave it to her. “You’re allowed to change your mind. If you can’t sleep on those lumpy cushions, I’ll trade with you.”
She yawned hugely. “’Night.” Pulling the afghan up under her chin, she shut her good eye.
* * *
In the morning, her black eye had opened to a slit and she refused a fresh ice pack for it. “It’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’m a fast healer.”
He put a couple of logs in the woodstove to get the coals going again and made coffee and scrambled eggs. She shoveled it in like she hadn’t eaten in weeks, and he felt ridiculously pleased with himself to be taking good care of her.
But then he said, “After breakfast, I’ll drive you down the mountain.”
She guzzled some coffee. “You said you were staying for three more days.”
“Cami, you really need to—”
“Uh-uh.” She showed him the hand. “Don’t say it. Don’t tell me what I need. For the rest of my life, I decide what I need. And what I need is to stay here with you and Munch until you have to go.”
“But you—”
“Not going. Forget it. I need a few more days up here in the peace and the quiet before facing civilization and calling my parents to say I’m all right.”
“They’re probably really worried about you.”
“I know.” She chewed on her plump lower lip and looked away. “And I feel bad about that. But right now, I need this—you and me and Munch up on this mountain with nothing to do but breathe the fresh air and appreciate the big trees.” He marshaled his arguments, but then she leaned across the rough surface of the table and begged him, “Please, Garrett. Please.”
And he could not do it—could not tell her no. “Damn it,” he muttered.
“Thank you,” she replied, extra sweet and so sincere.
He got up to pour them more coffee. “So then, what do you want to do today—besides breathing and staring at trees?”
She dimpled adorably. “I’m so glad you asked. See, I left the church without my suitcases, but I did have my purse, with my credit cards and my driver’s license. I don’t know what I was thinking when I finally got my car door open and started climbing up to the road. I left my purse behind. I was hoping we might go back for it.”
* * *
Garrett gave her his flip-flops, another shirt and a pair of his jeans to wear, with an old belt to keep them up. She wore that corset thing under the shirt for a bra. He knew this because he was a man and thus way too aware of what went on beneath a woman’s shirt.
They piled in the Jeep, with her riding shotgun and Munch in his favorite spot all the way in back. More than halfway to the state road at the base of the mountain, she said she thought they’d passed the place where she went into the ravine. He turned around the next chance he got.
She found it on the way back up, recognizing a Forest Service fire danger sign a few yards from where she’d gone off the edge. There was enough of a shoulder to park by the sign.
Before he could tell her to leave the dog in the Jeep, she let him out. Panting happily, Munch followed her to the edge.
“This is definitely the place,” Garrett said, taking in the skid marks. He came up beside her and peered over the edge. Her car had flattened everything in its path as it went down. It seemed impossible that she’d survived the crash and the tumble into the ravine. “You were lucky to be driving that Beemer.”
She made a sound of agreement. “Handles like a dream and one of the safest cars around. I’m going to miss it.”
“I can see the car.” The vehicle was half-buried in underbrush, but twisted metal and shiny red paint gave it away. “What’s that?” He pointed at something white and poufy halfway down.
“My slip. It was hard enough climbing with the dress. I kept tripping, so I took it off and left it.”
“You want it?”
She looked at him, her expression severe. “No, I do not.”
The incline was close to eighty percent. It would be steep going, but there were lots of trees and bushes to hold on to. He figured he could make it down there, get whatever she wanted from the car and get back up without too much trouble. “Anything else you want besides your purse?”
“There’s a notebook and some pens in the glove compartment. I would really like to have those—oh, and my engagement ring should be in there, too. I should give it back to Charles.”
“Anything else?”
“My old red hoodie might be in the trunk. I could use that, if we can get it open—oh, and there’s a hatch through to the trunk in the back seat, so maybe...” She let her voice trail off on a hopeful note.
“I’ll try. Take Munch and wait in the Jeep.”
“What?” She set her stubborn chin. “I’m going with you.”
Had he expected that? Yeah, pretty much. “Not in my flip-flops that don’t even fit you. Your poor feet are cut up enough already.”
“But I—”
“Stop, Cami. It’s not a good idea and I think you know it’s not.”
“It just seems wrong to make you go alone.”
“I’m dressed for the job and you’re not. It’ll be simpler and safer if I do this myself.”
She mouthed a wistful thank-you at him and turned back to the Wrangler. “Come on, Munchy.” With a happy whine, the dog jumped in.
“This shouldn’t take long,” he reassured her as she climbed up to the seat and pulled the door shut.
He started down. It was not only steep, the ground was thick with roots, rocks and debris. Past her big, white slip, he found one white satin shoe and then the other. The soles were red, the high heels covered in dirty rhinestones. Cami hadn’t asked for them, so he left them where they lay.
The car was upside down and badly bent and battered, the driver’s door gaping open, the trunk crushed in. The cab, though, was intact. He pushed the deflated air bags out of the way and looked for a purse, finding it easily—on the ceiling, which was now the floor. Most of the contents had escaped.
Checking not only the ceiling but under the upside-down seats, he found the latest model iPhone, a hot-pink leather wallet full of cards and cash, plus loose makeup, a comb, a brush, a tin of Altoids and all the other random stuff a woman just has to cart around with her wherever she goes. He shoved it all back in the purse.
The glove box popped right open for him, spewing its contents, including the pens and notebook she’d mentioned. He found her registration and proof of insurance in there, too. He even found her fancy ring. It had a platinum band and a large, square-cut diamond. The ex-fiancé might not have been the guy for her, but at least he wasn’t a cheapskate. He stuck the ring in his pocket.
Finally, he managed to crawl into the back seat and get the trapdoor to the trunk open. After a little groping around back there, he got hold of the hoodie she’d asked for.
The purse was more of a satchel, big enough that he could stick the notebook, pens and car documents in there, too. He tied the sleeves of the hoodie around his neck, shoved the straps of the satchel up his arm as far as they would go and crawled from the wreck.
He’d made it halfway back up to the road when he heard Munch frantically barking, followed by a bizarre, pulsing cry.
Adrenaline spurting, every nerve on red alert, Garrett froze in midstep. He knew that strange cry. Black bears made that sound when you stole their food or otherwise pissed them off.
Chapter Two (#ub2003608-5961-58c8-b686-03aa3a447fa5)
Dropping the purse, grabbing for branches to pull him forward, Garrett scrambled as fast as he could up the hillside. Somewhere up ahead Munch barked like crazy and the bear’s angry vibrating yowl continued.
Then Cami’s voice joined in. “Shoo! Back! Get out of here, you!”
Garrett grabbed the slim trunk of a cottonwood sapling and hauled himself higher, finally getting close enough that he could see them through the brush. They were maybe ten yards below the road. Cami had lost the flip-flops but had found a long stick. She held off the bear with it while Munch ran in circles around them, barking.
With no weapon handy, Garrett grabbed a rock and threw it at the bear, striking it on the rump. The bear turned and let out a quick growl in Garrett’s direction, but then went right back to chuffing and growling at Cami, pawing the ground.
She yelped in response and kept jabbing with her stick. “Back! Go!” Munch continued circling them, barking frantically.
Garrett scuttled closer and threw a bigger rock.
That did it. The bear turned on him. Black bears could move fast when they wanted to. And that one flew down the hill straight at him.
“Garrett!” Cami’s terrified scream rang through the trees as Garrett lunged to the side, counting on gravity and the bear’s forward momentum to drive it right past him.
It worked. The bear saw him move but couldn’t stop in time. It lost its footing and started to roll.
A split second later, Munch zipped by, too.
“Munch!” Garrett shouted. “Stop!”
But the dog was already out of sight down the ravine. He heard the bear make that threatening sound again. There was scrabbling in the brush and grunting from the bear.
And then a loud, startled cry from his dog.
The bear gave another angry grunt. Brush rustled and branches snapped. Garrett caught a flash of dark fur through the undergrowth—the bear running off.
And then there was silence.
“Omigod!” Cami came sliding down the bank toward him. “Munchy! Oh, no!” She toppled.
Garrett caught her before she could fall. “Hey now. Hold on.” With a gasp, she blinked up at him. He asked, “You all right?”
“Let me go.” She tried to break free. “I have to—”
“No,” he said softly. When she kept struggling, he shouted it. “No!”
A whimper escaped her. “But Munch...”
He took her by the shoulders. “Go back to the Jeep.”
“I can’t—”
“Look at me, Cami. Look at me now.” She moaned, but she focused. “Whatever happened down there, it’s over. Don’t believe what you see in the movies. Black bears as a rule aren’t aggressive and that one’s already run off.”
“But where’s Munchy?”
“I’ll go see.”
“Oh, Garrett. I was going to stay in the Jeep, I promise. I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her good eye and seeped from the injured one.
“It’s okay. Just let me—”
“God, I feel so terrible. Munchy started barking. He jumped right over me and out the open window.”
“He probably caught the bear’s scent. We had a couple of bears messing with our trash on a camping trip once. Munch was only a pup, but he chased them away. Just doing his job, that’s all.”
“If anything has happened to him, I’ll never forgive myself.”
He gave her shoulders a gentle shake. “Look at me. Listen. It’s not your fault.”
“But I—”
“I’m sure he’s fine.” No, he was not sure. But he had to say something to settle her down. Last night, he would have sworn that nothing could shake her, but right now he feared she might lose it completely. “I need to get down there and see what’s going on, okay?” She swallowed hard. And then, finally, tear tracks shining on her too-pale cheeks, she nodded. He instructed, “I want you to wait right here. Do that for me. Please?”
“Yes.” The agreement came out of her on a whisper of sound. And then more strongly, she added, “Okay.”
“Come on now. Over here...” He guided her to a boulder that poked up from the bracken and slowly pushed her down. “I’ll be right back,” he promised. She just stared up at him, tears dripping from her chin.
What else could he do? He took her hoodie from around his neck. It zipped up the front, so he wrapped it around her. “You going to be okay?”
She sniffled and stuck her hand in a pocket of the hoodie. “Go,” she commanded, pulling out a rumpled tissue and dabbing her eyes. “I’m fine.”
He wasn’t so sure about that, but he turned anyway, and started down the bank, passing her purse where he’d dropped it. Several yards farther on, he spotted Munch’s tail sticking out of a clump of brush.
His whole body went numb, a strange coldness creeping in, freezing him in place. He’d worried that Cami might break. Now, the sight of that unmoving tail almost broke him.
And then that tail twitched.
“Munch?” He practically fell the rest of the way.
Landing hard on his knees, he shoved the brush aside.
The poor guy was just lying there, as though he’d stretched out on his side for a nap.
“Munch?”
There was a weak little whine. And then, woozily, Munch lifted his head.
“Munch. Munch...” For some reason, Garrett couldn’t stop saying the mutt’s name. He bent close. No blood that he could see.
The dog whined again.
“How you doing, boy? Where does it hurt?” Garrett ran seeking fingers over head, neck, back, belly and down the long bones of each leg. He checked the paws, too.
Nothing.
About then, Munch gave his head a sharp shake.
“You okay, buddy?” The dog wriggled his way upright and started wagging his tail.
Relief poured through Garrett, bringing another wave of weakness. He plunked back on his butt in the brush and grabbed the dog in a hug. “Guess you’re all right, after all, huh?”
For that, he got sloppy doggy kisses all over his face.
Laughing, Garrett caught Munch’s furry mug between his hands. The dog whined sharply. Garrett felt it then, a bump behind the right ear. Carefully, he stroked the sore spot. “You think you can make it back up to the Wrangler?”
The dog let out a sound that just might have been Yes!
Garrett rocked to his feet and straightened with care. His legs still felt shaky, but they were taking his weight. “Well, let’s go, then. Heel.”
Munch obeyed, falling into step at his left side. Eager to reassure Cami that the dog was okay, Garrett climbed fast, pausing only once to grab her purse as they passed it.
A moment later, he caught sight of her waiting on the rock where he’d left her, wearing the hoodie, looking like a lost Little Red Riding Hood, tears shining on her soft cheeks. She spotted him. Batting tears away, she sat up straighter. And then she saw Munch. With a gasp, she shot to her feet. “He’s okay?”
Garrett gave her a nod. “Go ahead. Show him the love.”
“Munchy!” she cried. The mutt raced to greet her and she dipped low to meet him.
Garrett waited, giving her all the time she wanted to pet and praise his dog. When she finally looked at him again, he explained, “The bear must have whacked him a good one. When I found him, he was knocked out, but I think he’s fine now.”
She submitted to more doggy kisses. “Oh, you sweet boy. I’m so glad you’re all right...”
When she finally stood up again, he handed over the diamond ring and that giant purse.
“Thank you, Garrett,” she said very softly, slipping the ring into the pocket of the jeans she’d borrowed from him. “I seem to be saying that a lot lately, but I really do mean it every time.”
“Did you want those high-heeled shoes with the red soles? I can go back and get them...” When she just shook her head, he asked, “You sure?” He eyed her bare feet. “Looks like you might need them.”
“I still have your flip-flops. They’re up by the Jeep. I kicked them off when I ran after Munch.” For a long, sweet moment, they just grinned at each other. Then she said kind of breathlessly, “It all could have gone so terribly wrong.”
“But it didn’t.”
She caught her lower lip between her pretty white teeth. “I was so scared.”
“Hey.” He brushed a hand along her arm, just to reassure her. “You’re okay. And Munch is fine.”
She drew in a shaky breath and then, well, somehow it just happened. She dropped the purse. When she reached out, so did he.
He pulled her into his arms and breathed in the scent of her skin, so fresh and sweet with a hint of his own soap and shampoo. He heard the wind through the trees, a bird calling far off—and Munch at their feet, happily panting.
It was a fine moment and he savored the hell out of it.
“Garrett,” she whispered, like his name was her secret. And she tucked her blond head under his chin. She felt so good, so soft in all the right places. He wrapped her tighter in his arms and almost wished he would never have to let her go.
Which was crazy. He’d just met her last night, hardly knew her at all. And yesterday she’d almost married some other guy. She could seem tough and unflappable, but she’d had way too much stress and excitement recently. The last thing she needed was him getting too friendly with her.
Gently and way too reluctantly, he set her away from him. Biting that plump lower lip again, she gazed up at him, her expression both hopeful and a little bit dazed.
“Now, listen.” He ached to stroke a hand down her pale hair, to cradle her soft cheek in his palm, but he didn’t. “What do you say I take you back down the mountain? We’ll be in Justice Creek in less than an hour and you can—”
“Stop.” In an instant, that dazed, dewy look vanished. Her soft mouth pinched tight. Without another word, she grabbed her purse and headed for the Jeep, Munch at her heels.
Garrett followed at a distance as she climbed up to the road. He gave her time to stick her feet in his flip-flops and usher the dog in on the passenger’s side. When she jumped up to the seat and slammed the door, he circled around the front of the vehicle.
As soon as he got in behind the wheel and pulled the door shut, she commanded, “Take me back to the cabin or I’ll say goodbye right here.”
He let the silence stretch out before coaxing, “Come on. Don’t be that way.”
Her tight mouth softened a little. “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready yet to deal with all the crap that’s waiting for me back in the real world.”
“I meant what I told you,” he warned. “I’m going home Wednesday.”
She turned her gaze from him and stared blankly out the windshield. “I understand.”
“Cami, when I go, I’m not just leaving you alone in that cabin. You don’t even have decent shoes to wear.”
“I know.” She looked so sad.
And he had that need again, to touch her in a soothing way—to clasp her hand or pat her shoulder. Or better yet, to pull her into his arms where she felt so good and fit just right. But he kept his hands to himself.
He spoke firmly. “If I take you back to the cabin now, you have to agree that you’ll be ready to go down the mountain with me on Wednesday.”
“I’ll be ready.” She met his eyes then. “I’ll go when you go. I just need a few more days on this mountain of yours where no one can find me.”
He eyed the faded, baggy T-shirt he’d given her to wear, the jeans she had to hold up with a battered old belt and the too-big flip-flops that had to be a real pain to walk in. “How ’bout this? We drive down to town and get you some clothes that fit you, then come right back up to the cabin?”
Her lush mouth got pinchy. “Nice try. I’m not going down there till Wednesday. I’m just not. I want this time away from everything, Garrett. And I’m going to have it.”
“We can use my credit card if you’re worried they’ll—”
“No.”
“Well, then, I could take you back to the cabin and then go down myself and get you some better clothes.”
“Better clothes can wait till Wednesday.” Her pinched look had softened. “Please. Will you just let it go?”
He figured it was about the best deal he was going to get from her. “Fair enough,” he said gruffly. And he had to hand it to her. She’d picked the right place to disappear. No one was likely to come looking for her up here.
She was smiling again, her good eye a little misty. “You are the best.”
“Sure.”
“I mean it. You are.”
“So how come I have so much trouble telling you no?”
“Don’t be a grump about it.” She slapped at him playfully. “I happen to love that you can’t tell me no. My parents and Charles never had a problem with no when it came to me. It was always ‘Camilla, no’ and ‘Camilla, don’t’ and ‘Camilla, behave yourself and do what I say.’ I’ve spent my whole life doing what other people think I should do, interspersed with the occasional attempt to escape their soul-crushing expectations.”
Again, he had to quell the urge to reach for her. She was the cutest thing, with her black eye and her scrappy attitude. “Well, you’re running your own life now.”
“Oh, yes, I definitely am.”
“And we have an agreement. We’re at the cabin till Wednesday and then you’ll let me drive you home.”
“Got it.” She stuck out her hand and they shook on it.
* * *
At the cabin, he had firewood to split.
She volunteered to help so he got the maul ax, his goggles and two pair of gloves and led her out to the chopping block behind the cabin. “I’ve never chopped wood,” she said cheerfully.
He put on his goggles. “And you’re not starting now. Not in flip-flops.” A slip of the maul and she could lose a toe. “You can stack the split logs, if you want to.” He pulled on his work gloves and handed her the extra pair. “But take it slow and be careful.”
“I will.”
For a couple of hours, he worked up a sweat with the ax. He tossed the split logs away from the chopping block. She gathered them up and stacked them against the back wall of the cabin. Then when lunchtime approached, she went inside to make sandwiches. He washed up at the faucet behind the cabin and joined her on the front steps where she had the food waiting.
They ate without sharing a word, but the silence was neither tense nor awkward. Just easy. Relaxed. After lunch, he went back to splitting wood.
When he came to check on her later, she was sitting in one of the camp chairs drawing pictures in her notebook.
He peeked over her shoulder at a pencil sketch of Munch snoozing at her feet. “You’re good at that.”
“I wanted to go to art school,” she said as she shaded in Munch’s markings, the beautiful spots and patches of his blue merle coat. “I always dreamed of studying at CalArts. But my father prevailed. I went to Northwestern for a business degree and took a few art classes on the side. Then, the summer I graduated from college, I knew I had to do something to make a life on my own terms.”
“But your dad wasn’t going for it?”
“No, he was not. I tried to make him understand that I didn’t want to work at WellWay, that I needed a career I’d created for myself. He just wouldn’t listen.”
“What about your mother? She wouldn’t step up and support you?”
“My mother never goes against my dad.” She shaded in Munch’s feathery tail, her pencil strokes both light and sure. “And she basically agrees with him, anyway.”
“So you went to work at WellWay, then?”
“No. I tried to get away again.”
“Again?”
“There were several times I ran before that. The time I ran after college, I packed up my car and headed for Southern California—and was rear-ended by a drunk driver on I-70 in the middle of the night.”
Garrett swore low, with feeling.
“Yeah. It was bad. I almost died.”
“That coma you mentioned last night...?”
She nodded but didn’t look up from her drawing of Munch. “I was unconscious when they pulled me from the wreck and I stayed that way for two weeks. You probably wondered about that scar on my leg? Another souvenir of that particular escape attempt.”
“But you made it through all right.”
“Thanks to the best medical team money could buy and a boatload of physical therapy, yes, I did.”
He had that yearning again to touch her. To pull her up into his arms and comfort her, though she didn’t seem the least upset.
He was, though. Just hearing about how bad she’d been hurt made something inside him twist with anger—at her father, who wouldn’t let her live her own life. And at her mother, too, for not supporting Cami’s right to be whatever she wanted to be.
“When I was well enough to go home, I moved back in with my parents.” She kept her head tipped down, her focus on the notebook in her lap. “My father insisted. And I was too weak to put up a fight. There was more physical therapy—and the other kind, too, for my supposed mental and emotional issues. And when I’d completely recovered from the accident and finished all the therapy, I moved to my own place at last—and started my brilliant career at WellWay.”
He clasped her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, because he couldn’t stop himself.
She didn’t lift her head from her focus on the sketch, but she did readjust the sketch pad on her knees enough to give his hand a pat. “It’s okay, Garrett. I’m all better now.”
Feeling only a little foolish, he let go.
She sighed. “Mostly, I like to create my own comic strips.” She flipped the sketchbook back a page to a cartoonlike sequence of sketches where a cute little bunny with a ribbon in her hair used a stick to fight off a bear with the help of a patch-eyed Aussie dog. A boy bunny in jeans and a T-shirt similar to Garrett’s ran toward the girl bunny wearing a freaked-out expression on his face.
“I’m guessing that’s me?”
She slanted him a teasing glance. “Okay. I took a little artistic license. You didn’t look that scared.”
“Maybe I didn’t look it, but that scared is exactly how I felt.”
A giggle escaped her. “Yeah. Well, it’s not like you were the only one.” She flipped the page back and continued working on the drawing of Munch. “I have a whole series on the bunny family. Unlike my real family, the bunny family works on their issues. They respect each other and try to give each other support and enough space that every bunny gets what she wants of life.”
“Wishful thinking?”
“Oh, yeah.”
He watched her draw for a while. But there was more wood to split, so he went on around back and got busy with the maul.
Later, he showed her how to lay and light a campfire. They had steaks and canned beans. When they went inside, he taught her the basics of how to use a woodstove.
She took another bath. When she came back out to the main room, she smelled of soap and toothpaste. “Anything good to read around here?”
He pulled a box full of paperbacks out from under the bed. “Help yourself.”
She chose a tattered Western and stretched out on the couch with it. When she fell asleep, he pulled the afghan over her and turned out the light.
The next day was pretty much the same, quiet and uneventful. She drew cartoons in her notebook. He split wood.
Beyond getting the wood in, he’d been planning an overnight hike and some fishing for these last couple of days on the mountain. But now that he had Cami with him, he didn’t want to leave her alone for too long.
Strangely, it was no hardship to have to stick close to the cabin for her sake. There was just something about her. He felt good around her, kind of grounded. She pulled her weight and she didn’t complain about the rustic living conditions.
They went for a walk up the road—not too far, about a mile. With only his flip-flops to wear, her feet couldn’t take a real hike. They stopped at a point that looked out over the lower hills, some bare and rocky, others blanketed in pine and fir trees.
“Kind of clears your mind, being up here.” She sent him one of those dazzling smiles and he marveled at what a good time he was having with her. He would miss her after he dropped her off in Denver.
Was he growing too attached to her?
Oh, come on. He’d known her for less than forty-eight hours. No way a guy could get overly attached in that time.
That night, he tried to offer her the bed again. But she insisted she was comfortable on the couch.
After he turned out the light, he could hear her wiggling around, fiddling with her pillow, settling in. “You sure you’re okay over there?”
“Perfect.” She lay still. The cabin seemed extra quiet suddenly. Outside, faintly, he heard the hoot of an owl. There was a soft popping sound from the stove as the embers settled. “Garrett?”
“Hmm?”
“Tell me about you.”
He smiled to himself. It was nice, the sound of her voice in the dark. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, your parents. What are they like?”
So he told her about his father, Frank, who’d had two families at the same time—one with his wife, Sondra, with whom he had two sons and two daughters. And the other with Garrett’s mother, Willow. “Ma had three boys, me included, and two girls with dear old dad. And then, when Sondra died—the day after her funeral as a matter of fact—my dad married my mom.”
“Ouch—I mean, wow, that was fast.”
“No kidding. Everyone was pissed off about it, that my dad couldn’t show just a hint of sensitivity to Sondra’s memory, that Ma couldn’t wait a little longer after all those years of being my dad’s ‘other woman.’ At the time, we were all pretty much at war, me and my mother’s other kids on one side, our half siblings on the other.”
“It sounds awful.”
“Yeah. But eventually we all grew up and realized it wasn’t our fault that our parents couldn’t manage to behave responsibly and respect their marriage vows. Now we’re tight. We all like getting together, looking out for each other, knowing we can count on each other, all that family stuff. My half siblings are even nice to my mother, which I find really impressive. Not only is she the woman my dad cheated on Sondra with, she’s not a friendly person. She’s distant, hard to get to know.”
Cami made a low, thoughtful sort of sound. “Are your mom and dad still together?”
“They were until he died six years ago. Now, when she’s not traveling, which she does a lot, she lives alone in the mansion he built for Sondra, just her and the housekeeper.”
“That sounds kind of sad.”
“You’d have to meet her. She’s not someone people feel sorry for. Like I said, she comes off kind of cold and superior. And then there’s the whole matchmaking thing I mentioned the other night. She’s driven us kind of crazy with that crap lately.”
“Because she loves you and wants you to be happy.”
He grunted. “Right. I’ll keep telling myself that.”
“And I did the math. Your dad had nine kids total?”
“That’s right.” Garrett laced his hands behind his head and stared up at the shadowed rafters overhead. “You sound impressed.”
“I kind of am. And jealous, too. I always wanted at least a sister. Preferably two. And I would have loved to have a brother. I truly do believe that if my parents had only had more kids, they wouldn’t have been constantly on my case to do things their way. More kids keep the parents busy, you know? The parents have to chill a little and accept that they don’t have absolute control.”
“But you’ve finally broken free, right? You’re going to do things your way now.”
“Oh, yes, I am.” She said it gleefully. “I’m finally going to find work that makes me happy. And I’m fortunate that I won’t have to take just any job to get by. My trust fund matured three years ago, when I was twenty-five. I have my own investments and a good chunk of change in savings, too. My life is my own from now on.”
“You really think your dad might have tried to cut you off just to get you to do what he wants?”
A silence from her side of the room. From the rug by the sofa, the tags on Munch’s collar jingled as he gave himself a scratch. The sound was followed by a soft doggy sigh.
When Cami finally spoke, she didn’t really answer his question. “Well, it doesn’t matter if he would or he wouldn’t. He can’t. My money is my own. I’ll be able to support myself while I figure out what I want to do with my life from now on.” She sounded both wistful and determined.
He wanted to get up and go to her, pull her into his arms and promise her that from now on her life was going to be downright amazing. He wanted to...
He cut the thought off before he got to the end of it.
He liked her. A lot. But she was going home to Denver and he was going back to Justice Creek. This, right now, in the cabin, just the two of them? It was only one of those things that happened sometimes. She’d needed some help and he was willing to give it.
They got along great and he enjoyed her company.
But that was all there was to it. Day after tomorrow, he would drive her down the mountain and that would be the end of it.
* * *
Tuesday pretty much flew by.
And that night in the dark, they talked some more.
She said she liked it on the mountain so much, she just might find a getaway cabin of her own. “Eventually. You know, after I figure out where I want to live and what to do with my life.”
Garrett opened his mouth to tell her she could use the cabin any time she wanted to—and then caught himself before the words could escape.
It only felt like he’d known her forever. Tomorrow, he would take her home. Maybe he’d talk her into giving him her number. Who could say what would happen from there?
For now, though, offering her the use of his getaway cabin whenever she wanted it was going too far.
* * *
In the morning after breakfast, they loaded up the Jeep with Garrett’s clothes, his camping stuff and the leftover food. He turned off the hot water, drained the tank and shut off the water to the cabin, too, just in case he didn’t make it back up the mountain before winter set in. He unplugged the fridge and braced the door slightly open. Then he locked the cabin up tight.
At the Jeep, Cami paused to take in the plain, unpainted structure with its narrow front porch and red tin roof. “I’m going to miss this place.”
Garrett couldn’t stop himself from reaching out a hand to cradle the side of her face. Her black eye was open now, most of the swelling gone, though it was still a startling blend of black, brown and purple fading into green. She gazed up at him solemnly.
“I’ve loved having you here,” he said.
Her throat moved as she swallowed. Her soft lips parted. He had no idea what she was going to say.
And he decided it would probably be wiser not to find out. “Come on. Let’s get moving.” He dropped his hand from her cheek and opened the door for Munch to hop in.
* * *
She didn’t say much on the drive down the mountain. That surprised him.
He realized he’d been bracing for some kind of resistance from her. But she was quiet and accepting, her thoughtful gaze focused on the winding dirt road ahead.
Was she too quiet?
He hoped she was okay, that she hadn’t started to stew over what would come next.
“So, Denver, then?” he asked when they approached the turnoff.
“You know,” she said casually, “just take me to Justice Creek, if that’s okay.”
“But I thought—”
She cut him off with an airy wave of her hand. “No, really. I’ll rent a car and drive myself back when I’m good and ready. But for now, I think I’ll try Justice Creek for a while.”
“Uh, you will?” Not only was he surprised at her abrupt change of plans, but he was suddenly ridiculously happy, which alarmed him a little.
“Yeah. I’ll get a hotel room. Do you know a good place?”
He eased onto the state highway going west, toward Justice Creek. As he made the turn, he decided he couldn’t just leave her at some hotel. “How about this? Come to my place first. We’ll drop Munch off and put the food away and then we can, you know, talk about your options...”
The smile she gave him made the sunny day even brighter. “That sounds like a great idea. Your house, it is.”
* * *
Cami’s heart swelled with gratitude.
Garrett Bravo was not only hot and way too handsome, he was a good guy. A real-life hero, a hero who’d been up there on Moosejaw Mountain just when she needed a hero the most. Someday she would figure out how to repay him.
No, she had no idea where she was going or what she would do when she got there.
But so what? She was finally playing life by ear and loving every minute of it, following her instincts for once, the way she’d always longed to do.
Her condo in Denver was already on the market. At some point, she’d have to pack everything up and move it all to wherever she ended up living. But none of that had to be done right away.
First things first. She needed to get going on the rest of her life.
Whatever that might turn out to be.
The state highway became East Central Street as they entered the town of Justice Creek. They passed the town hall and Library Park on the right. Charming shops lined the street on either side.
Cami had always thought Justice Creek was a great place. With Denver only a ninety-minute drive away, the pretty little town at the edge of the national forest made a perfect day-trip destination. Cami had visited several times. She’d caught the summer rodeo once and shopped the annual Christmas fair the last four years running.
Every time she’d come to town, she’d felt right at home.
And now, today, with her life wide-open in front of her, Cami saw Justice Creek for what it was: a perfect jewel nestled in its own small valley, surrounded by spectacular mountains. The kind of place where a person like her might be happy to settle down.
They passed the turn to Oldfield Avenue. She glanced out her side window and saw the white walls and red tile roof of the world-famous Haltersham Hotel. It was perched on a rocky promontory with gray, craggy peaks looming above it.
Right then, with the magnificent old hotel in her sights, Cami experienced a moment of great clarity.
No wonder she’d ended up with Garrett and Munchy on Moosejaw Mountain. Her subconscious had been leading her right here to Justice Creek the whole time.
This town...
Oh, definitely. This was the town for her.
It was all so simple, so perfect and clear. The question of where she would live the rest of her life was already answered, had been answered long ago. The truth had only been waiting for her to be ready to see it.
Justice Creek would be her new home.
Chapter Three (#ub2003608-5961-58c8-b686-03aa3a447fa5)
A curving pebbled driveway led up to Garrett’s house on Mountainview Avenue in Haltersham Heights not far from the hotel. The exterior was weathered cedar and shingles and silver-gray stone, with lots of big windows.
Inside, those windows let in plenty of light. The modern kitchen and dining room opened onto the living area. Two sets of glass doors led out to a low deck and a patio, complete with a fire pit.
“What a beautiful house.” Cami set a box from the cabin on the gorgeous granite counter. It had a swirling pattern of cream, brown and silver. “Kind of modern and rustic, both at once.” The vaulted wood ceilings had log accent beams.
Garrett opened the glass door by the table to let Munch out. “I had it built it a few years ago, when Bravo Construction really started making money.”
She watched Munch bound off the deck and into the yard. “He won’t run off?”
“There’s a fence. He’s fine.”
Together, they brought in all the food. Garrett said he didn’t mind her looking in his cabinets to see where things went, so she got to work putting the food away while he unloaded his clothes and a bunch of random camping equipment.
“I’m just going to get a load of laundry started,” he said and vanished down the hallway off the kitchen.
Cami put boxes of crackers and cold cereal in an upper cabinet and then made herself march to the end of the counter where she’d dropped her Birkin bag on the first trip in from the garage. With a grimace of dread, she took out her phone. She’d fully charged it at the cabin and turned it off when they left.
As soon as she turned it on, there would be a flood of frantic calls, texts and messages to deal with. Up on the mountain, it had been so easy to tune out the real world. Not anymore. The time had come to deal with everyone she’d been trying not to think about. They were going to be very upset with her when they found out that she had purposely avoided dealing with them since Saturday afternoon.
She was still standing there with the powered-off phone in her hand when Garrett emerged from the laundry room.
“That is not a happy face.” He put his arm around her.
She leaned into his solid strength, breathed in his woodsy scent and made herself smile up at him. “I think I’ll just go out and sit on that back deck while I make a few calls.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Take me back up the mountain. We’ll stay there forever, just you and me and Munchy. “Thanks, but I think this is something I need to deal with myself.”
* * *
Garrett got busy putting his gear away in the garage.
When he returned to the kitchen, she was still outside, pacing back and forth across the wide patio tiles, the phone to her ear. Munch, panting anxiously, trailed along behind her. Garrett stood at the glass door admiring the shine to her thick gold hair. How could she be so pretty even in his ill-fitting old jeans and faded shirt?
When she glanced over and saw him watching her, she gave him a quick wave and went back to her pacing. It looked like the phone calls were going to take a while.
He finished putting the kitchen stuff away and made them some sandwiches. When she finally came inside, she went straight to the end of the counter and stuck her phone back in her giant purse.
“You made lunch,” she said, her eyes worried, her smile way too bright.
“Come on.” He pulled out one of the high padded chairs at the kitchen island. “Everything will look better after you eat.”
She got up on the stool. “Yum. I’m so hungry.”
He let her polish off half of her turkey on rye before he asked, “So. Want to talk about it?”
She gave a tiny shrug. “My parents are furious. They demanded I return to Denver immediately. I told them I’m not coming back except to close up my condo and pick up my stuff.”
He touched her arm in reassurance. “I’m sorry, Cami.”
“Yeah.” She forced another sad little smile. “Me, too.”
“How was it with Charles?”
“Not much better—scratch that. Worse. He said he had to see me immediately, that we had to talk.”
“Don’t let the guy bully you.”
“I’m not. I told him I needed to think about the whole face-to-face idea. I made it clear that I wasn’t coming back, so there really was no point in us meeting. He was calling me bad names when I hung up.”
“What an ass.”
“Well, I did leave the guy at that altar, after all.”
“And now he wants to talk about that? What’s the point?”
Now she was the one putting her hand on his arm. It felt really good there. “I don’t know, Garrett. I mean, I love that you’re on my side, but I do feel guilty about running away. It had to be pretty awful for him.”
“Talking about it with him isn’t going to fix anything.”
“I know you’re right. But as I said, I haven’t decided whether to talk to him or not.”
“If you do decide to see him, meet him here.”
“Why?”
“I should be close by, just in case.”
She patted his arm and then picked up the other half of her sandwich. “At least my maid of honor was understanding. She promised she’d call my other bridesmaids and tell them I’m okay. It’s so weird.” She stared thoughtfully down at the triangle of sandwich in her hands. “I like my maid of honor, but I never felt all that close to her. It’s as if, in Denver, I was just going through the motions, acting out living a life that wasn’t really mine—oh, and, apparently, I’m a missing person, so I guess I need to go see the police and explain how I’m not so missing, after all.”
“That, I can definitely help you with.”
“No way. You’ve done enough.”
No, he hadn’t. Not if she still needed him. And clearly, she did. “My brother-in-law, Seth Yancy, is the county sheriff. I’ll take you to the justice center.”

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