“Wow,” she whispered. “I need to get out of Florida more often.”
He appreciated the view with her, trying to see it through her eyes. Through any eyes it was special, a view he’d loved year-round for his whole life. “Pretty flat there, huh?”
“Our highest elevation is an on-ramp to I-95.”
“I would hate that,” Adam said. “I need to get up in the mountains to breathe and on that river to relax.”
She smiled up at him, nodding and thinking, but he wasn’t sure about what. “I see that,” she said slowly.
Oh no. “Please don’t tell me this is part of your HGTV psychology.”
“I am looking for inspiration,” she told him.
“Well, listen. This is kind of why I shut down the other day. I don’t want that boathouse to be about me, okay? I’m just going to run it.”
“Okay.” But something in her voice told him she wasn’t going to back off.
“Plus, the promise was we’d come up here and you’d tell me why you’re running, hiding, and using a fake name.”
She stumbled on a small rock, her sneaker slipping, making her automatically grab his arm. “Whoa, it can be treacherous up here, huh?”
Treacherous for someone who wanted to change the subject, ask and not answer questions, and who had managed much bigger rocks on the path with ease. He decided to let it go. “I know my way around. You’re safe.”
“Then back to your bet,” she said, a not-so-deft but very definite change of subject. “What did you bet your brother this time?”
He gave her a side-eye, which he could tell she interpreted perfectly.
“Just talk to me for a bit, Adam,” she said. “I can’t tell you everything while I’m trying to stay vertical and not fall down this mountain.”
Oh, she was good at excuses. “Sure,” he agreed. “The bet actually goes back to that semester in detention, oddly enough.”
“Really?”
He didn’t answer as they started walking again, aware that the path got steeper here. “Yeah. Watch this next few hundred feet.” He took her hand just in case she slipped for real this time. “Even an experienced hiker can be challenged from here to the ridge.”
She nodded, her focus back on her feet, her slender fingers wrapped around his. “Talking helps me concentrate,” she said. “Tell me the bet.”
“You’re relentless.” He squeezed her hand. “We have that in common.”
“And you’re good at changing the subject when you don’t want to talk about something.” She squeezed back. “We have that in common, too.”
For a moment, he just looked at her, meeting her gaze, enjoying the spark of humor in her dark eyes. Just…liking her for one long, surprisingly powerful beat of time. Usually when he was at this point in the mountain, his whole focus was out. Looking out over the trees and rocks and down to the valley and river.
But all he wanted to look at now was her, and damn, if she wasn’t as pretty as the world around him.
“I’m glad you left your makeup in that motel,” he said softly.
One of her brows, dark and arched, lifted. “Now that was an underhanded compliment if I ever heard one.”
He kept walking, still holding her hand and enjoying the feel of her slender fingers lost in his much bigger hand. Without thinking too much about it, he lifted her hand and put the lightest kiss on her knuckles. “You’re flat-out beautiful. Is that straightforward enough for you?”
He saw her swallow, and then she cast her gaze down, avoiding his intense stare. “Too straightforward for me.”
He didn’t get her. He just didn’t understand this woman, nor did he understand how much he wanted to get her and understand her.
So he continued on the path, silent, guiding her around a small bush that jutted into the path, and ducked under some heavy branches right after that.
“When we were in detention,” he finally said, “there was this teacher who monitored Saturdays. She was…attractive.”
“Like hot-for-teacher attractive?”
“Like…well, let’s put it this way. Her name’s Diana Woods, but we just secretly called her Miss Woody. For obvious reasons.”
She let out a heartfelt laugh. “Oh, the poor woman.”
“I think she might have known about her power over us and used it to her advantage,” he said, thinking of that mane of red hair, those sinfully green eyes, and a body that made teenage boys want to cry. Or take really long showers.
“So is she still making life hell for boys at the high school?”
“Yes,” he said. “In fact, she’s the principal now and, to be fair, still pretty hot. She was only in her twenties back then, so she’s barely forty now and somehow still single.”
“None of you ever tried to close the deal with her?”
He laughed. “Not that I know of, but someone is now. Last month, a plane went over Eagle’s Ridge and wrote ‘I love you, Diana’ in skywriting.”
“And you don’t know who?”
“According to Ryder Westbrook, who owns the airport and was part of our detention team, the pilot was paid a lot of money not to reveal who’d hired him. So my inane brother decided that it would be hilarious to add to the small-town buzz by covering Miss Woody’s front porch with roses.”
“That’s the bet?”
He nodded. “That’s what the loser will do. So you can see I have to finish that boathouse.”
“And don’t call her Miss Woody if you get caught.”
“I’m not going to get caught, because I’m not going to lose,” he assured her. “Although today might be a wash on the boathouse project.”
“Not a wash, I promise. I’m doing design work in my head with each step we take.”
“Great. Well, I’m not installing cabinets with each step we take.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “But it’s okay. Right now, I’m where I want to be.”
She smiled up at him and then was quiet for a few moments, maybe thinking about that, maybe concentrating as the rocks got much trickier the higher they got. She made no effort to let go of his hand and made only cursory checks of the view as she kept her gaze on her shoes and the stones they covered.
“That’s it?” she asked, a little breathless now.
“There’s just one more kind of tricky section ahead, then we’ll reach the ridge.” He tugged her hand gently. “Let me know if you want to stop for water or a break.”
“No stopping,” she said. “But I meant is that the only reason you’re so hell-bent on getting the boathouse finished in three weeks? So you don’t have to get busted covering Miss Woody’s porch in roses?”
“No, of course not. Once the season starts, we’re slammed. It’s already starting to pick up, but when the tourists hit this place in early May, A To Z will be humming from morning to night until early September. I won’t have time to finish or even deal with the tours.” He let out a low groan. “And my deadline’s been cut to nine days thanks to one of them coming in early.”
“Really? Couldn’t you just wait another year, or will the kids be a big source of income?”
He snorted as they reached the big rock he knew was the last major hurdle to the ridge, challenging and dangerous, even for an experienced climber. “We’re not going to make much money on the camp. In fact, I’m charging so little, I had to present it to Zane as a charitable write-off.” He stopped and pointed to the time- and rain-worn surface of the rock, purposely using his body to block the steep drop behind him. “This is the trickiest part. You have to get over this to get to the ridge, but it’s worth it.”
“Okay.”
“There’s a way to do it, but you have to concentrate and use the right technique. Watch me.” He slowly put his foot into a crevice in the rock, then another, so familiar with the climb he could do it with his eyes closed. Halfway up, he easily hoisted himself to the top, turning to offer his hand. “I can pull you up. Just try to follow the footholds I used. And whatever you do, don’t fall to your right.”
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She glanced at the slope, which wasn’t too steep but was still a long way down on rocks and dirt. “’Kay.” She stuck her sneaker in the right place but didn’t take his hand. Instead, she placed hers right where his had been and took a deep breath.
“I can pull you, Jadyn.”
She shook her head, bit her lip, and pulled hard with a grunt, almost making it, but not quite having the upper-body strength to hoist herself higher.
“Jadyn, it would be easier.”
Meeting his gaze, she narrowed her eyes at him. “I want to do it myself,” she said. “Just to see if I can.”
He smiled at her, giving a slow nod. “Not what I expected from you, glamour girl.”
“You don’t even know me.” She ground the words out as she tried again, gritting her teeth and straining the muscles in her neck as she tried to get up the rock. And failed.
“No, I don’t, which is why I brought you up here, since you promised to tell me everything.”
She tried again but couldn’t make it up. “Damn it,” she mumbled.
“Still won’t take help?”
“No. I really want to do it myself. Third time’s the charm.”
“Maybe not. It took me four tries to make it through rescue-swimmer training.”
“But you didn’t give up, did you?” She raised a challenging brow.
“Didn’t even consider it.”
“Like I said.” She grabbed on hard, her face sheer concentration. “We have more in common than you think.”
Adam’s chest swelled with an unexpected reaction to that, causing a rush of affection for this woman who was maybe more of his type than he’d even realized.
She fought for strength, pressing her foot firmly against the stone and clinging to the tiny handles nature had made. She turned a little red, bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, and found some strength he’d bet she had no idea she had.
And, son of a gun, she made it, falling right into his waiting arms.
“I did it!” Her whole face lit up with satisfaction, making her even brighter, prettier, and more appealing.
“You did.” He hugged her closer, loving the feel of her slender, but strong, body against his. “And your reward is going to be one of the most breathtaking views you’ve ever seen.”
She was looking at him, her eyes dancing, her smile broad, her face flushed from victory. “This view’s pretty good, too,” she whispered.
“Hey.” He tucked his knuckle under her chin. “No changing the subject, pretending to fall, citing psychological studies, or flirting with me. You promised to tell me everything.”
“I promised to tell you enough.”
He shouldn’t accept that, and he knew it. But there was pain and fear in her eyes that did something stupid to his heart, so he just nodded. He’d take what he would get and hope “enough” was enough.
Chapter Eight
Adam took Jadyn’s hand again as the path wove between thick pine branches, the ground underfoot no more than tiny, slippery rocks.
“Now, listen,” he said. “From this point on, it’s dangerous until we get to the ridge. The path is narrow, and the drop is very steep. You fall, you die.”
She gasped softly. “Seriously?” She ventured a look to her right to confirm that the mountain dropped dramatically, and the only things between a hiker and a fatal fall were a few thin bushes and trees. “Good thing you know how to rescue a person.”
“Yeah.” He knew how not enthusiastic that sounded, but God, he hated this subject.
“You have saved lives, right?”
“Over a hundred,” he said, without fanfare or bragging.
“Have you ever…” She didn’t finish the question. But she didn’t have to.
He knew exactly what the next question would be and felt his jaw tense in anticipation. He expected honesty from her, and he would have to give it back, right? It wasn’t like he’d kept Dalton Butcher’s death a secret. His family knew and his closest friends. They just didn’t know what it had done to him. They might suspect, but they didn’t know.
“Have you ever not been able to rescue someone?” she finally asked.
They followed a sharp veer in the path, and he eased her ahead of him when it grew too narrow for two people. That way, she couldn’t see his expression while he didn’t answer, and in about ten feet, the view would get them talking about something else entirely.
“Oh my God,” she whispered as they rounded the last bend. “That’s…wow.”
“I know,” he said proudly, inching her to the huge flat stone that stuck out like nature had created her own balcony. “It’s my million-dollar view.”
“I’ve decorated enough homes with million-dollar views to assure you this is worth much, much more.” She scanned from east to west, drinking in the stunning beauty of sky, mountains, trees, river, and a sweet town nestled in the arms of it all. Adam never stood up here and looked out without being awed right down to his bones.
He’d never gone to church, probably never said a prayer in his life, and hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about the Creator of this universe. But up here, he felt close to nature and as holy as an unholy person could feel.
The look on her face, the wonder and amazement, told him she felt exactly the same way. And for some reason, that thrilled him.
Could she get this? A love of nature was a big criterion for him in a woman. Except, come to think of it…he’d never brought a woman here before. His friends, yes, and even some camping tours. But never a woman like this.
A woman whose name he didn’t know, he reminded himself.
The clouds had rolled closer, bathing the entire river valley in a smoky blue-gray that always soothed his soul. Rain might come, but he knew from experience that it would be no more than a light drizzle, not a storm. That was the kind of rain he loved up here while tucked under the overhang.
Below, the aptly named Snake River wended through it all like a navy-blue ribbon that wrapped the package, calm in parts, then whipped up and white where rocks rose up from the riverbed. Rafters and kayakers were few, but visible, dotting the water.
The bird’s-eye view of the whole area showed the dense streets and buildings in town, the warren of residential streets on the east side, and the woods, hills, and forested areas on the west side of the river where he grew up.
“Do you have your bearings?” he asked. “You see Sentinel Bridge right there, with the diner?”
“Oh yes. I do see it.”
“And A To Z and, to the right of that, the boathouse I’m not in the middle of renovating with nine days left.” Which reminded him why they were up here. For honesty and admissions that he hadn’t heard word one of yet.
“Oh, there’s an airport here!” She sounded more dismayed than surprised. “I had no idea.”
“That’s one of the reasons Eagle’s Ridge does so well in tourism. And it’s the thing that started it all.”
“How’s that?” she asked.
“When the men who founded the town had the opportunity to buy a lot of this land cheaply after World War II ended, they came up here to survey the possibilities and decide how to divide it all. One of the ideas was an airstrip to make money and attract tourists. It still does, and the commuter flights have really helped build Eagle’s Ridge into an easily accessible mountain playground. Now that Ryder Westbrook is the manager, it’s going to grow even more.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize it was so easy to get here.” Again, she didn’t seem thrilled with that idea.
“Not that easy.” And why did it bother her?
“What about the eagle?” she asked.
“The one my grandpa saw?” He turned and pointed to an overhang of stone and trees just above them on the side of the mountain. It was his protection from the rain and why the fire pit was below it. “Grandpa told me it was up there. A bald eagle, looking down on all of them.”
“That’s a wonderful story.”
Not as wonderful as th
e one he was waiting to hear from her.
“It’s such a unique story and such a special place. Could I talk to those men? Are they still alive?”
More procrastination. “Oh hell, yeah. Old as these hills, but they love to talk, especially my grandfather and his pal David Bennett.”
“I really want to talk to them.”
“Jadyn,” he said pointedly. “You promised.”
She sighed and leaned into him a little as a chilly breeze made her shiver. She had on only a sweater and down vest, and the temperature was probably freezing to her thin tropical blood.
Putting his arm around her, he guided her back around the fire pit.
“Come and sit here.”
“Did you make this fire pit?”
“The original was made by my grandpa. He brought me up here when I was young, and I’ve been camping here for years and always improving the pit, especially after winter.” When she sat down on the rocks that faced the pit, he grabbed some of the small kindling he kept tucked away. Throwing it in, he dug through the backpack for a lighter.
“You mean you don’t rub two sticks together?”
He gave her a look. “And if you switch subjects, ask another question, or otherwise delay what you came up here to tell me, I’m going to…”
He looked at her, seeing a mix of emotions in her eyes he couldn’t quite read. He stared at her for a minute, too long, really, but he couldn’t look away.
“Come on, Jadyn,” he finally whispered. “Talk to me.”
“All right, all right.” She blew out a noisy breath and finally nodded. “I’m a very successful interior designer in Miami.”
Which he already knew or…thought he knew. “So your résumé was truthful?” He brushed some dirt from his hands over the small fire and sat down next to her, getting close to warm her even more.
“Most of it, yeah. Did you call any references?”
“No. Should I have?”
She swallowed noisily. “I’m not sure the numbers would work, but if they did, you’d probably be talking to an FBI agent.”
He inched back at the answer, not sure he’d heard right. “The FBI?”
“I’m not running from a boyfriend or anything like that,” she said. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and for my own protection, the FBI sent me away. Off the grid, as they say.”