Читать книгу The Mighty Quinns: Eli - Kate Hoffmann, Kate Hoffmann - Страница 10
ОглавлениеPresent Day May
ELI MONTGOMERY DROPPED his pack on the floor next to the door then stretched his arms above his head, working the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. He’d been traveling for nearly three days and his body and mind were completely exhausted. Now that he was home, all he wanted was a hot shower and a comfortable bed.
“Home” had been a lot of different places over his childhood and adult years. But right now, the closest thing he had to it was a small apartment he kept over his mother’s outdoor outfitting store in Stone Creek, Colorado.
Annalise Montgomery owned a bungalow in town, but she’d bought that just a few years ago, long after he’d needed to reside under his mother’s roof. His apartment was rent-free, large enough to store all his outdoor equipment and a permanent address for the occasional paycheck he collected. What more could a guy want?
“May I help you find something?” A pretty young salesclerk approached him with a bright smile pasted on her face. She was new.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Is Annalise working today?”
“I’m afraid she’s not here right now. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Nope,” Eli said. “Do you know where she is?”
“That’s really none of your business,” the girl said.
He peered down at her name tag. “Vanessa?” Eli held out his hand. “I’m Eli. Annalise’s son.”
A tiny gasp slipped from her lips and her cheeks turned scarlet. “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. I—I should have recognized you. She has a picture of you on her desk. You’re very...handsome. Even with the beard.”
Eli ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair and smiled apologetically. He hadn’t shaved in two months and his last haircut had been months ago.
“I’ll just give her a call,” Vanessa said. “And let her know you’re here. She’s over at The Gorge.”
“The Gorge?”
“The new ski resort that Mr. Baskill is building.”
“What’s she doing over there? Still protesting?”
Vanessa bit her bottom lip. “Not anymore. Actually, she and Mr. Baskill have been...”
“Been?”
“I guess you could say they’ve been...hooking up?”
Eli frowned. His mother’s behavior rarely surprised him, but this did. Last he’d spoken to his mother, she’d been spending every minute of her free time protesting against Baskill and his land-grabbing plan to build a new ski resort near Stone Creek.
Eli cleared his throat. “My mother is hooking up with Richard Baskill?” She’d called the guy a dangerous mix of Darth Vader and Donald Trump. And now, just a few weeks later, she was sleeping with him?
“I’m going to go give her a call,” Vanessa said. “I’m sure she’ll want to come right over.” She hurried off, then quickly returned to him. “Can I get you something to drink? We have a very nice organic elderberry tea. Or you can try a sample of the new E-66 sport drink that your mother is endorsing. Although, now that I think about it, it’s supposed to replace estrogen in postmenopausal women so maybe not.”
“I’m fine for now,” Eli said. “I’m just going to pick out something to wear from the rack here and then I’m headed upstairs to grab a shower and shave.” She gave him a blank look. “I live in the apartment upstairs.”
“Oh, that’s you?” She winced. “We’ve been storing some stock up there, so forgive the mess. I’ll make sure to get it cleaned up tomorrow.” She sent him another nervous smile. “Just leave the tags from the clothes on the counter.”
He and his mother had never had a very traditional relationship. She’d raised him on her own, and Eli hadn’t known who his father was until he was fifteen. Even then, he’d never been able to talk to the man. Maxwell Quinn, a noted mountain climber and adventure guide, had died on Everest when Eli was eight. But it hardly mattered. To Eli, he was nothing more than a name on the back of a faded photo.
After Eli’s birth, Annalise had stayed home for a few years, attempting to accept a traditional role as the mother of a toddler. But the moment he was toilet trained, Annalise continued her adventuring, leaving Eli in the care of his grandmother, Trudie Montgomery, or his grandfather, Buck Garrison.
His grandparents’ lives were just as nontraditional as his mother’s. Buck had never married Trudie, and after the brief affair that produced Eli’s mother, they each took up with an odd assortment of lovers. His grandparents tried to give him a normal life—high school, sports, hearty meals and a lot of time spent outdoors.
Eli knew at an early age that his family was different. Trudie had disregarded societal norms and raised her daughter on her own, working any odd job she could find to put food on the table. Annalise had left home at sixteen, dropping out of school to take off with a climber she’d met at a local roadhouse. A few years later, Trudie wandered into the wilderness of the Rockies, built a rustic cabin on the edge of a mountain meadow and never returned to civilization.
She spent the rest of her life writing books about feminist empowerment and a woman’s connection to the natural world, turning herself and her little mountain home into a symbol for independent women throughout the world.
Most of the people around town, however, thought Trudie and Annalise were a bit crazy. There were times when Eli had to agree, although he preferred to think of them both as unconventional. After all, they were family—his only family—and he’d learned to accept them for who they were: two very confident, powerful women who didn’t need a man in their lives to be happy or fulfilled.
Trudie had passed away seven years ago after a valiant battle with breast cancer. After a brief stint in the hospital, she’d returned to her cabin to die. Annalise and Eli had buried her in the meadow, in a coffin Trudie had built herself. After her death, her cabin became a destination for hikers trekking into the Arapaho National Forest and a pilgrimage for women who had admired Trudie’s tenacity and her talent as a writer.
When Eli was home, he often spent time at the cabin, making sure the roof was still sound and the cupboards were stocked in case someone wanted to stay there, or it was needed as an emergency shelter by a lost or injured hiker. Though many other empty cabins had fallen prey to squatters or vandals, Trudie’s cabin, like her memory, had been revered by those who visited, and left untouched.
“Annalise is on her way,” Vanessa called from the far end of the store.
“Thanks,” Eli replied.
He found a pair of cotton cargo pants and a T-shirt on the sale rack. His mother’s shop was a popular stop for tourists, but she still went on climbing expeditions all over the world and led treks for breast cancer survivors, in honor of her mother’s battle for both equality and survival.
Annalise had also founded one of the country’s most successful breast cancer charities. She still served as the face of the group, though she’d never been interested in the day-to-day business workings.
Eli walked to the back of the store, then past his mother’s office to a narrow stairway. When he got upstairs, he wove a path through the boxes that littered the hallway, stripping off his travel-worn clothes along the way.
He found a pair of scissors in the kitchen, then made his way to the bathroom. Eli stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment. This was the first time he’d been home without an exit strategy already planned. Usually, his visits had an expiration date, a day when he was required to leave so he could make his next adventure. Over the past few years, he’d trekked the Andes, worked a fishing boat in Alaska, hopped a freighter for Taiwan, taught a series of workshops for Outward Bound and helped film a documentary about surfing in Hawaii.
Maybe it was time to reassess his choices in life, Eli mused. Though he’d never wanted a traditional career, he felt as if he ought to be contributing in a more profound way. Both his grandmother and his mother had carved out legacies for themselves. What would his legacy be?
Some guys built powerful careers, and their lives were all about money and accumulating wealth. Others, like politicians, preferred to build their power. Others married and found their legacies in their children. And then there were those that set themselves apart by accomplishing impossible things, like climbing the highest mountain or finding a cure for a fatal disease or pitching a no-hitter.
When would he figure out his place in the world? And when would he be perfectly happy with his life? These questions always seemed to plague him at the end of one of his adventures, when he was left with just the memories and nothing more. Usually he was able to push them to the back of his mind by finding another adventure, but this time, he had nowhere to go and nothing to take his mind off of his murky future.
Eli carefully clipped off the beard, but left his hair a little long. He’d make a quick visit to the barber tomorrow. Rubbing his face, he turned on the shower and when the water was nice and warm, stepped beneath the spray and sighed.
He hadn’t had a real shower, or bath, in almost two months. The luxury of hot, fresh water was almost more than he could bear and he groaned softly as he let the spray pound his back.
By the time he’d scrubbed his skin and lathered his hair, he was starting to feel almost human. The lather dripped off his body and gathered around his feet as he rinsed, then he reached for the faucet and shut off the shower. Wiping the water from his face, he yanked the curtain back and reached for a towel. He wrapped the soft fabric around his waist and strode into the bedroom to grab the T-shirt and pants.
“Look at you!”
His mother was perched on the edge of his bed, her legs crossed in front of her, her wavy gray-streaked hair falling around her face.
“Jesus, Annalise!” He clutched the towel and made sure it was tightly knotted.
“Oh, please. I’ve seen you naked before. Many times.”
“Get out,” he said, nodding toward the bedroom door.
She jumped off the bed, then threw her arms around his neck. “You’re home!” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then rubbed it in as she’d done when he was a child. “So it will last,” she murmured, as she always did.
He waited for her to close the bedroom door behind her, then cursed softly. Was it any wonder that he’d never figured out the female mind? Maybe if he’d had a normal mother and grandmother, he’d be married with two or three kids by now. Instead, he survived on a series of short-lived affairs with women who seemed perfectly normal at first, but who strangely always ended up unsuitable or unstable.
When Eli finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed in the cargo pants and T-shirt, Annalise was waiting in the hallway with a hot cup of tea. She pulled him along to the kitchen table and shoved a stack of shoe boxes off a chair and onto the floor. “Sit, sit. When Vanessa called, I was so surprised. I wasn’t expecting you. Usually you call.”
“I didn’t really have a chance,” he said, picking up a pair of climbing shoes that she’d pushed aside. “Do these come in my size?”
She smiled. Though she’d reached the half-century mark last year, Annalise Montgomery still had a girlish exuberance that belied her true age. Her slender body, kept healthy by yoga and a vegan diet, moved with a grace and athleticism that made her hard to ignore.
“Richard Baskill?” he said.
“Oh, stop. I don’t need you to tell me who I can and cannot screw.” She sat down across from him and tucked her feet up under her. “It’s just a thing. An undeniable sexual attraction. I’m going through menopause and they say sometimes women just freak out and try to do it with any man who walks by.” She shrugged, a coy grin twitching at the corners of her lips. “So I did. And I’ll have you know, he’s quite an accomplished lover. Besides, there’s nothing left to do about the resort. He managed to buy every politician that could have stopped it. I just figured it was time to go with the flow.”
“So the next best thing was to hop into bed with him?”
She giggled. “We actually haven’t done it in a bed yet. He likes it when I get...creative. I couldn’t beat him with the resort, but I do hold all the power in the bedroom.”
Eli covered his ears. “Too much information,” he shouted, shaking his head.
“All right, all right,” she said, grabbing his hand and lacing her fingers through his. “No more talk about my love life. Let’s talk about yours.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Eli said.
She gave him a sad look and sighed.
“Is there some kind of sexual dysfunction that keeps you from—”
“Stop!” Eli said. “I’m not going to talk to you about my sex life.”
A silence descended and she busied herself braiding a strand of her hair. As much as he loved his mother’s rather mercurial personality, it often made simple conversation nearly impossible. She usually blurted out exactly what was on her mind, without the benefit of a filter. Though, truth be told, Eli had come to the conclusion that she enjoyed shocking people.
“Is there some other topic we might discuss?” Eli asked.
“I suppose your inability to settle down and find a purpose for your life is off-limits as well?”
“The commitment gene is missing in the Montgomery family,” he muttered. “I take after you and Trudie. I make enough money to live my life. That’s all I need for now.”
“Well, in the interest of making money to live your life, I just happen to have a job for you, a good-paying job. They hired me to do it, but now that you’re home, I think you’d be perfect for it.”
“What kind of job?”
“I got a call from a production company in Los Angeles. They’re doing a reality show, a girl-in-the-wild thing where they drop this woman into the wilderness and she has to fend for herself for a year. They wanted to rent Trudie’s cabin because they’re basing the concept on her life on the mountain.”
“You rented out my grandmother’s cabin?”
“You won’t believe what they paid,” Annalise said. “It’s all very professional. This woman they got to host the show, Lucy Parker, she’s read all your grandmother’s books. She’s a huge fan.”
“How old is she?”
“What difference does that make? I was twenty-four when I first climbed Everest. Your grandmother was fifty when she wrote her first book. Age is just another metric that men use to put women down.”
Eli cursed softly. “All right, never mind her age. How long is she going to live there all alone? Two, three months?”
“A year. And she isn’t alone. She has a dog with her.”
“A year? How is a TV personality from Los Angeles going to feed herself? Does she hunt? What about chopping wood? There must be a production crew that’s going to stay with her. They wouldn’t leave her up there all alone.” He stared at Annalise. “Well? Did you ask these questions?”
“Well...no. I’m sure they know what they’re doing.”
“Does she have a radio or a sat phone to call if she needs help?”
His mother shrugged. “I have no idea. You can find out yourself when you hike up there the day after tomorrow. That’s the job. Check up on her once a month. Bring a few supplies to her.” She stood up. “In the meantime, I think we should go out and stuff ourselves with pizza and beer.”
“You don’t eat cheese,” he said. “You’re a vegan.”
“I’ve realized that cheese is quite possibly the most sublime food on the planet. And I only eat organic cheese from grass-fed, humanely pastured milk cows.”
“Next thing you’ll be telling me that you’re eating meat.”
“Bacon,” she said. “I mean, it’s really not meat. It’s fat. And it smells like sex feels. At my age, I just don’t think I should deny any of my urges. Life is short. We have to enjoy every single moment. That’s what Richard says.”
Eli rubbed his forehead, wondering at the sudden knot of tension beneath his fingertips. Maybe a beer—or five—was exactly what he needed right now. It appeared that a lot of things had changed since he’d last been home.
Leave it to his mother to involve them both in some silly reality show. The reality was that life in Trudie’s cabin was hard and lonely and it wasn’t a place for make-believe adventurers. He intended to let Lucy Parker know exactly what she was in for. And once she found out what a winter in the Rockies would be like, she’d want to run right back down the mountain.
* * *
LUCY PARKER ROLLED over on her bunk and winced at the ache in her shoulder. She’d spent the previous day stripping the bark from a tree she’d felled last week. It was backbreaking work, but all part of the process—the process of building her own shelter that would withstand the harsh winter.
She sat up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. This was the life she’d signed on for. A year in the wilderness, a year living life as Trudie Montgomery had. And the first task was to construct a small log cabin. She’d been on the mountain for exactly a month and had managed to gather enough logs for one wall of the ten-by-ten foot shelter she’d planned to build.
Her plans had undergone some revisions once she realized how heavy a twelve-foot tree could be. So she’d reduced the diameter of the trees she harvested to only those she could drag through the woods herself.
Though she was behind schedule, Lucy was certain that once her body got used to the specific labors involved, she’d pick up speed.
Her only companion in this adventure, her dog, Riley, was stretched out beside her on the old iron bed. When she sat up, he lifted his head. “I’d sleep much better if you’d stay on your side,” she muttered. He gave her a soft woof then leaped over her and scurried to the door.
She crawled out of bed, wrapping the old quilt around her to ward off the chill, then opened the front door of the cabin. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the amazing landscape around her. To the west were mountains—high, craggy, snow-covered peaks. To the east, thick forest and the foothills. The closest town was Stone Creek, twenty miles away by air, but hours by vehicle and foot. She’d come to the cabin via a helicopter that had landed in the wide green meadow to the south, a meadow now painted in the watercolor hues of the first wildflowers of the season.
Riley scratched at the screen door and she opened it. He ran out and she followed at a more leisurely pace. She’d put her watch away and sealed it in an old baking-powder tin, allowing her body to dictate the hours of the day. When she was hungry, she ate. When she was tired, she slept. And when it was time to work, she focused all her energy to push herself harder than she’d ever been pushed. She loved it.
Lucy drew a deep breath of the crisp morning air. Her year in the wild promised to be both a personal and a professional challenge, and she relished the chance to prove herself. She’d bounced around from job to job in television production for years, picking up jobs where she could and making enough to put herself through college. She’d read Trudie’s books when she was a teenager and had dreamed of a life spent alone, with nothing but her strength and wits to sustain her.
An offhand conversation with another producer had resulted in a proposal for a new reality show. She’d spend a year in the wilderness, following in the footsteps of famous feminist Trudie Montgomery. Amazingly, her proposal had been accepted, a production budget had been secured and on April first, Lucy had been left in the meadow with Riley and twenty crates of supplies to get her through the next twelve months.
All she had to do was provide at least fifteen hours of video footage per week, chronicling her efforts to survive in the wilderness, recording her thoughts on Trudie, her feminist ideals and the challenges she’d faced. Meanwhile, the producers were working to sell the series to a network.
Lucy had been given a battery-operated two-way radio to call for help in case of an emergency, a laptop computer with a satellite uplink to upload her video footage each week and a generator to charge both the video camera and laptop.
Figuring it should be charged now, she walked back inside and grabbed the video camera, then sat down on the top porch step and turned it toward herself. Pushing the record button, she smiled. “Hooray, hooray, it’s the third of May. I’ve been on the mountain for exactly one month and today, I’m going to have a visitor. Annalise Montgomery, Trudie’s daughter, has agreed to stop by once a month to check up on me and bring me a few supplies. And to chat with us. Those of you who’ve read Trudie’s books know that Trudie’s friend and lover, Buck Garrison, used to stop by every month with necessities, but there will be no men visiting me.”
Rachel McFarlane and Anna Conners, her two producers, had decided that the entire project, from production on down, should be run by women. The pair had produced an award-winning PBS special on the all-women’s America’s Cup racing crew several years before and were certain that it would be a positive message to send to the public and a good way to market the show to the networks when it came time to sell it.
“What do I need?” Lucy continued. “A few extra lanterns for the very dark mountain nights. Another pair of long underwear. Some heavier socks. And a new washboard to do laundry. I could also use some chocolate, but I didn’t put that on my list as I’ve decided to go cold turkey.” She paused. “Turkey. I’d also love a turkey sandwich. Canned meat has already lost its appeal.”
Riley’s bark caught her attention and Lucy trained the lens on the meadow, hoping to catch Annalise as she approached. In the distance, she made out a lone figure moving toward her. She tried to make out the details of Annalise’s face, then sucked in a sharp breath.
It wasn’t the slender figure of Annalise, but a tall, lanky man who approached. She noticed the rifle slung over his shoulder. He also carried a large frame pack, yet moved as if it weighed nothing.
Lucy had been in the wilderness for an entire month and this was the first visitor she’d had. Though she felt a small measure of excitement, this wasn’t the person she’d expected. Calling for Riley, she motioned the dog to her side and he sat down, his attention now fixed on the stranger. As the man approached the cabin, Lucy observed him more closely.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing hiking shorts and boots, a faded T-shirt, sunglasses and a cap that shaded his eyes. Thick, dark hair curled out from under the cap and the shadow of a beard darkened his face.
A tiny tremor raced through her. There was a reason why the production company had hired Annalise Montgomery to make the monthly visits, beyond the show’s premise. After a month of solitude, a single man—hell, any man—caused a riot of unsettling feelings inside of her, even if he might be a backwoods ax murderer.
Lucy suddenly realized how vulnerable she was, out here all alone. She set the camera down and grabbed the rifle from its spot just inside the door. Nestling the butt into her shoulder, she got the man in her sights. “Stop right there,” she shouted across the twenty yards that separated them. Riley growled softly.
Startled, he did as he was ordered, slowly raising his hands and watching her suspiciously. “Are you really planning to use that?” he shouted.
“I will if I have to.”
“Then nestle the stock into your shoulder and raise the muzzle up. Unless your intended target is the dirt five feet in front of me. Don’t tell me they didn’t even teach you to shoot properly.”
“What are you doing here?”
“The more appropriate question,” he muttered, starting toward her again, “would be what are you doing here?” He dropped his hands to the straps on his pack and hooked his thumbs beneath them.
She narrowed her gaze. “Who are you?”
“Annalise sent me,” he said. “I’ve brought some supplies. And I guess I’m supposed to make sure you haven’t done anything stupid, like starve to death or get eaten by a bear. You look healthy and I don’t see any teeth marks, so I assume you’re all right so far?”
Lucy stifled a smile as she set the gun down beside her. She stepped off the porch, suddenly curious about the man who’d wandered into her orbit. He slipped the pack off his back, then stretched his arms above his head. Then, in one smooth movement, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and used it to wipe the perspiration from his face.
Lucy bit back a moan as she took in his finely muscled chest and impossibly sculpted abdomen. Her fingers twitched as she imagined running her hands over the tanned skin, pressing her lips to the smooth expanse of naked skin.
This was crazy. She’d gone far longer than a month without a man in her life before. Why was she reacting so strongly to this guy now? Yes, he was gorgeous. And she hadn’t had any human contact for a month. But she should be able to control her reactions much better than this.
He cleared his throat and when she met his gaze, Lucy realized she’d been caught staring. “You shouldn’t be here,” she murmured. “Annalise agreed to come.”
“She thought I’d enjoy the fresh air and a good, long hike.”
“We had an agreement,” Lucy said.
“Well, if you knew anything about Annalise you’d understand that she’s rather flexible when it comes to promises and agreements.”
“We have a contract. This entire project is supposed to be run by women. Women producers, women editors. We want to make a statement. Exactly how Trudie would have wanted it.”
“How do you know what Trudie wanted?” he asked. “You never even met her.”
“And I suppose you did?” she asked, arching her eyebrow and leveling a cool gaze at him.
“I used to spend summers here with her,” he said. “I helped her put up the addition on the cabin and I built that outhouse all by myself.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Annalise had mentioned that she had a son, but she said he was away a lot and that they didn’t see much of each other. Cursing beneath her breath, she strode up to him and held out her hand. “You must be—”
“Eli,” he said after studying her for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Eli Montgomery. I’m Annalise’s son.”
“I’m Lucy Parker,” she said, sending him an apologetic smile. Of course the son of a woman like Annalise would be as handsome as she was beautiful. And he’d have to love the outdoors.
He took her hand in his and gave it a shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said.
He took off his sunglasses, letting them hang from the strap around his neck, and she found herself transfixed by eyes so blue, they rivaled the sky above. They stared at each other warily, like two wild animals deciding between fight or flight.
“You must have left very early to get here before noon,” she said.
“I move fast,” he said.
A shiver skittered down her spine and she drew her fingers from his.
“For most people, it’s a four-hour hike,” he explained. “I can do it in three. And if I’m going to make the round trip before sunset, I wanted to be here by noon.”
“You’re going to leave right away?”
He frowned. “Yeah. I guess I didn’t think you’d want me to stick around. Why? You need something? You want me to stay?”
“No, no. You’re right. You really should go. The whole point of this project is for me to live life like Trudie did.”
“Trudie had lots of visitors,” he said.
“In that case, maybe you could you stay for lunch?” She gave him a tentative smile. “To be honest, it would be nice to have some company. Even for just an hour. And as long as you don’t do any of the cooking, I guess it won’t break any rules.”
“There are rules?”
“Guidelines, really. An entire notebook filled with them. I can’t accept any outside help, beyond the monthly check-in.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ll stay. Under one condition.”
“What would that be?”
“You let me show you how to handle that rifle.”
“I know how to handle it. They gave me lessons at a shooting range in LA.”
“Even so, I’d like to show you myself.”
Lucy sighed. “All right. We’ll do that after lunch.” She glanced down at what she was wearing, realizing for the first time that she must look like some kind of crazy lady. “I’m just going to get dressed. Is there anything you need? I can—” Lucy paused. “I guess you remember where everything is. Just make yourself comfortable.”
She hurried back inside the cabin and slammed the door behind her. Leaning against the rough planks, she drew a deep breath. “Stop it!” she muttered. This was ridiculous.
She’d come here, to this remote mountain cabin, to prove that a woman didn’t need a man to find peace and contentment in the world. And here she was, panting over Eli Montgomery like he’d come specifically to seduce her.
He was delivering supplies and nothing more. Just because he had a nice smile and a charming manner did not mean he wanted to pick her up, wrap her legs around his waist and do the nasty.
“Show some self-control,” Lucy said to herself, pushing off the door.
Still, as she searched the cabin for something decent to wear, she discarded anything that might make her look lumpy. In the end, she settled for yoga pants and a simple chambray shirt that she knotted at the waist.
For the first time since she arrived, she regretted the lack of a mirror in the cabin. It was something that Trudie had prided herself on—the ability to grow comfortable with her natural appearance. Lucy grabbed a brush and quickly ran it through her hair. “Forgive me, Trudie,” she murmured, pinching her cheeks to give herself a bit of color.
When she opened the door again, Eli was sitting on the porch, Riley stretched out beside him. He’d unpacked the supplies he’d brought along, laying them out on the floor. “Is that chocolate?” she asked.
“It is. My mother thought you might need it, but I can take it back down with me if you don’t want it.”
She reached down and grabbed the package of chocolate bars. “Not a chance, mister. Now, if you’d also brought me a triple-shot caramel latte, I might have kissed you.”
“Nope,” he said with a grin. “But I’ll remember that next month.”
* * *
ELI HADN’T PLANNED to spend any time at the cabin. He’d been irritated that his mother had rented out the property, especially for a dumb reality television show, and he wasn’t really looking forward to meeting the new tenant. But then he’d gotten a good look at Lucy Parker.
He’d expected some fortysomething feminist, a woman experienced with life and ready to prove a point to anyone who might be interested. He’d imagined someone like his grandmother, not some sweet-faced, doe-eyed woman with a disarming smile and an amazing body.
It was clear why they’d picked her for the job. Even dressed in raggedy clothes with her hair tangled, she was drop-dead beautiful. She wasn’t wearing a bit of makeup to enhance her features and yet, she had a beauty that was unmatched by any woman he’d ever met.
Her skin was flawless, pale and smooth, and her lips were as pink as ripening fruit. Her hair, thick and flaxen in color, tumbled around her face in a style that was best reserved for the bedroom immediately after sex.
Eli had been prepared to hate her, or at least dislike her for underestimating the harsh reality of living on the mountain. But she was so determined to honor Trudie with this project that he found himself carried along by her enthusiasm. Still, he was worried about her preparedness. Before he could walk away, he needed to know that she’d be fine out here all by herself.
In the meantime, he tried his best to ignore the attraction pulsing between them. She’d made it very clear that the last thing she wanted was a man. He wouldn’t be chopping her firewood, he wouldn’t be digging her garden and he wouldn’t be warming her bed. But maybe there was one thing he could do for her.
He picked up the sandwich that Lucy had made for him and took a bite. The rustic bread was freshly baked and she’d slathered homemade hummus on it, flavored with garlic and roasted red peppers. “This is delicious,” he said.
“Thanks.” She pulled her knees up beneath her chin. “I put a lot of time and effort into my menu. If I think a lot about food, I can contain my cravings.”
“And what do you crave?” he asked. “Besides a caramel latte? And chocolate?”
“Potato chips. Ice cream. Pizza. I dream about pizza.”
“Well, you’re about an eight-hour hike from a really great pizza parlor. Maybe you could get them to deliver,” he teased.
“I expected to miss food. And all my electronics. Television and movies. But what I really miss is people. It’s so quiet here at night it almost makes my ears hurt. I don’t know what I’d do without Riley.” She drew a deep breath. “And fruit. I miss fresh fruit.”
“There will be places you can get that around here later this summer,” he said. “About a mile in that direction are two apple trees that were planted near the foundation of an old cabin. And over there, along that ridge, are blackberry bushes, but watch out for bears because they like them as much as humans do. There are also wild plum and boysenberry trees nearby. Trudie used to make the best jam.”
He wanted to show her, to tell her everything that he knew to help her survive and make her stay more bearable. But he remembered her very strict set of rules. “I’d draw you a map, but you’d probably rip it up and throw it in the fire.”
She nodded, then pushed to her feet. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
He wanted to ask if she’d let him run his fingers through her hair, or smooth his hand over her cheek. He wanted to stare into her eyes and memorize the color so he might recall it later. Most of all, he wanted to kiss her and see if the attraction he felt was mutual or just some silly fantasy that he was experiencing on his own.
“Get me your rifle,” he said. “And bring a box of ammunition.”
“What are you going to shoot?” she said, glancing around. “Is there a bear?”
“No. We’re just going to have a little target practice,” he said. “Humor me. I want to be sure you could shoot a bear if you had to.”
Lucy grudgingly produced the rifle. She was clearly not happy with him for forcing the issue but she was smart enough to realize that a little extra instruction with the rifle could save her life if she did encounter a bear or some other wild animal.
Over the next half hour, they set up targets in the meadow, nailing flattened tin cans to the trunks of aspen trees.
“I am curious about that pile of logs over there,” Eli said, nodding to the west of the cabin. “I notice you’ve been stripping them. They’ll burn fine with the bark.”
“Those aren’t for the fire. I’m building a cabin.”
Eli chuckled. “No, really.”
“Really,” she said. “Your grandmother built this cabin all on her own. I want to do the same.”
“Yes, she built it. Over the course of two or three summers. With the help of friends and two horses.”
“I don’t have any horses,” she said. “And I don’t have friends. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”
Eli tacked a tin can to the tree trunk, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing out here? You seem to have some kind of delusion—or maybe it’s a fantasy—of what wilderness life is like.” He continued on to the next tree.
“I have your grandmother’s books,” she said, hurrying after him. “And I’ve done my homework. I know it’s difficult, but that only makes me more determined to do it.”
“To what end? Trudie already proved that it was possible. Why do you need to build a cabin all over again? Is it meant to make you famous?” He held out his hand and she gave him another tin can. “How the hell did you get these logs here?”
“I dragged them,” she said.
He stared at her in disbelief.
“I have to find just the right circumference and length. I was going to make a fourteen-by-fourteen cabin like your grandmother, but those logs are too heavy. So I’ve reduced it to ten-by-ten and I’m using six-inch diameter logs.” She held up her hand. “I know. It’ll take more logs, but I’m going to do it. And for your information, it has nothing to do with being famous. I’m doing this for myself.”
Eli couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. The process she described was brutal and backbreaking. He grabbed her hands and turned them over, only to see the shadows of healed blisters and new calluses. He ran his thumbs over the rough surface and he heard her take a ragged breath.
“You need a pair of gloves,” he said.
She nodded. “I have a pair but they don’t fit very well. And I accidentally left them out in the rain.”
Eli gently massaged her palm and his blood warmed. When he looked up and met her wide-eyed gaze, he realized what he was doing and dropped her hand. “You have a lot of work to do if you’re going to finish it before the first snow,” he said
“I can do it,” Lucy said. “I’m learning more every day and getting better at each of the tasks.”
“Can I give you some advice?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. You can’t. It would be...cheating.”
“This isn’t a game, princess,” he said. “I don’t see any referees around here.”
“I am going to do this on my own. I want the project to have integrity. I need to make my own mistakes.”
“It will be a costly mistake when you drag logs through thick underbrush because you didn’t want to let me tell you to get your logs cut and hauled early.”
She clapped her hands to her ears and shook her head, sending him an angry glare. “No!”
He cursed softly and shook his head. “Listen, I’m dead serious. The last thing I want to do is hike up here and find the vultures picking at your carcass. I know that’s crude, but it’s a reality in the mountains, especially when you’re alone.”
“I’m careful. And prepared.”
“Then let’s see it.” He strode over to where he’d left the rifle and shells and walked back to her. “Pace it off. We’ll start with twenty paces.”
He followed her as she did as he ordered, then stood behind her. “If you come across a bear, stop and keep your eyes on the ground. Slowly bring your gun around, but keep it pointed down. Do that for me now.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, squaring her body to the target. But the moment he touched her, he realized his mistake. Suddenly, he couldn’t focus on the shooting lesson. Instead, he was fascinated by the warm flesh beneath the fabric of her shirt and the gentle curve between her shoulder and neck. The scent of her hair drifted on the breeze and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to identify the floral variety.
“When you bring your rifle up, it’s important to stabilize it by pulling the butt into your shoulder with your cheek against the stock. Same place every time, nice and solid. If you do that, sighting your target shouldn’t take long.”
He reached around her and showed her how to hold the gun. His blood surged and his pulse quickened, but he forced himself to ignore the reaction and focus on the job at hand.
“Now, sight the target and when you have it, squeeze the trigger.”
A few seconds later, a shot exploded out of the muzzle and Lucy winced. “Did I hit it?”
“Nope.”
“But I always hit the target at the range.”
“Shooting at the range is a lot different than shooting when a bear is charging you. Or even with the wind blowing and the trees rustling. That can is about the size of the spot you need to hit to down a bear.”
“But it’s so small from back here.”
“Any closer to the target, you won’t have time to get a shot off.”
Eli glanced at his watch. It was almost three. The hike out would be quicker as it was downhill and he’d have an empty pack, but it would still be tight. And he hadn’t brought along a headlamp, so he had to reach the ATV before sunset. “I have to get going. But I want you to practice this after I leave. Every day. Until you can hit those cans in the blink of an eye.”
Lucy slowly turned. “Thank you,” she said.
His gaze fell to her lips and he fought the urge to lean forward and take a taste. “No problem. I wish we could work on it some more, but then I’d have to spend the night. I’m sure that’s against the rules.” He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to practically beg for an invitation, and he wanted to take the words back the moment he said them.
“Guidelines,” she corrected. “They’re really just guidelines. But I plan to follow them as if they were laws.”
They walked back to the cabin together and Eli retrieved his pack and slipped the straps over his shoulders. “Well, Lucy Parker, I guess this is goodbye, then. Have a great year and stay safe.”
“Won’t I see you next month?” she asked.
“What about your law? I thought a man was against the rules,” he said.
“You won’t be helping me with the cabin. And I don’t want to put Annalise out if she’s busy.”
“Then I’ll see you next month,” he said.
Lucy smiled, then pushed up on her toes and brushed a quick kiss across his cheek. “Thanks again. I enjoyed our visit.”
He smoothed his hand along her arm and caught her hand in his. “If I kissed you,” he murmured, “would that be against the guidelines?”
“It definitely would,” she said.
Eli nodded, the conflict between his common sense and his impulses raging on in his head. In the end, he stepped back, gradually moving away from her, their gazes still locked. “Stay safe,” he said, giving her a halfhearted wave.
She waved back and he turned and headed across the meadow toward the trailhead. Eli looked over his shoulder once and found her still watching him from the porch, her arms wrapped around the post, her hair tossed by the breeze. Riley sat at her feet, his head resting on his paws.
Eli tried to forget her the moment she was out of sight. But instead, she plagued his thoughts for the entire hike down the mountain, then the ride back into town and through the rest of his night. He’d almost convinced himself that it was simple worry that kept her on his mind. After all, she was a vulnerable young woman, alone in the wilderness with no one to protect her. He couldn’t just leave her to fend for herself.
But when his dreams turned into scorching sexual fantasies of naked limbs entwined and wild sensations racing through his body, Eli knew protecting Lucy wasn’t the only reason he wanted to go back to the cabin.
