Chapter 2
two
Sierra
W ell, shit. This wasn’t how this dive was supposed to go. While I sway and bobble in the wind, I peer down between my feet to the forest floor. There’s plenty of room for me to land in the tiny clearing, just my bad luck to catch a stray updraft.
At least it’s not too far down. Judging from past experience, I’d say about nine feet. At least that part is lucky. I should be able to land without further injuring my shoulder. Glaring at the tree holding me captive, I rub my upper arm. My jacket is torn and there’s a little blood from where the bark scraped my skin. Nothing some water and antibiotic cream can’t deal with. Still, after the impact, my shoulder is going to ache.
I rotate the joint and blow out a relieved breath. Doesn’t feel like any internal damage. I continue to take long, slow breaths to calm the adrenaline rushing through my system. In order to fall safely to the ground I need to be relaxed and loose.
The tree branches groan and rustle together with another gust of wind. Before the branch cracks under my weight, I need to be on the ground. Solidifying that decision, my chute rips, dropping me another foot.
Taking my knife from the deep pocket on my thigh, I give each of the ropes attaching the chute a sharp tug. I could simply slip from the harness but I don’t want to leave the parachute dangling. I always carry out what I bring in. So, I need to cut the right ropes that will both release me and untangle the chute.
The sharp knife makes quick work of the first rope and I sense the loosening of the tree’s control. The wind doesn’t make my attempt at escape any easier as it swings me away from the final ropes I need to cut. Grumbling under my breath I use a loose rope to pull myself back into position and shake my arms to loosen my straining muscles.
After struggling to release my pretty purple chute from the tree, I lift my knife for the final swipe and mentally prepare to drop.
“Hey, you okay up there?”
I jerk with surprise at the voice rising from below me. My knife slices the rope. I’m free falling. In that split second I angle my body and relax my knees. It’s always better to land on your feet.
Instead I crash into a solid figure who wraps their arms around me as we roll to the ground. The air knocked from my lungs at the collision doesn’t return as I stare into a pair of concerned sky blue eyes rimmed with long, dark lashes. What angel is this who caught me?
The eyes blink and thick brows lower, putting the questions there in shadow. “You’re not a guy.”
Laughter bursts from my lips. With my big boobs and wide hips no one has ever mistaken me for anything other than a full bodied, curvy woman. Maybe this guy has been alone in the woods too long. “I’ve noticed. You can let me go now.”
He blinks again and jerks his hand from my waist as though the contact burned him. That’s not very complimentary, but I’m accustomed to that reaction. We’re laying on our sides, facing each other and I roll to my back. “Thanks for breaking my fall, but it wasn’t necessary.”
When he doesn’t move or say anything a niggle of worry begins to chant in my brain. The force of my falling weight couldn’t have been comfortable. I can’t look at him as I ask, “You’re not hurt, are you?”
There’s a long moment of silence before he answers. “No. Like you obviously do, I also know how to fall.”
The gravelly, unused tone of his voice settles pleasantly in my lower belly. I need to hear more. “So, what are you doing out here?”
“My land.”
“And I’m trespassing.”
He sits and lifts one shoulder. “It’s Alaska.”
The tree finally releases my parachute and it floats down to cover us in purple nylon. Chuckling, I shove at the material until I’m free. He’s already standing, but at an odd angle as though he’s hiding something. Curious, I study him in silence. Oh, lordy, I like what I see. Maybe he’ll be a bonus to my scouting trip.
He repeats my question. “So, what are you doing out here? Besides attempting to land in too small an area?”
I slip out of my harness and start gathering the fabric to stuff into its pack. “I’ve landed in smaller targets. Although I haven’t jumped before in Alaska and didn’t properly account for the intermittent gusts.”
“You could have been stuck in that tree. Impaled on a branch. Fallen too hard. There aren’t paramedics out here.”
“I don’t focus on the down side of what ifs. When it’s my time…well, at least I hope it’s doing something I love. I’m no longer in the tree so I’m not going to worry about what might have happened. Now, to answer your question…”
He gives me another lowered brow look as though he doesn’t remember what he asked.
“I’m here scouting locations for a wilderness camp my company is hoping to establish. The property to the south of here may be coming up for sale.”
His jaw tightens and he straightens his back with a jerk. Obviously he doesn’t like the idea of a camp next to his property.
“The company I’m part of develops and builds bionic prosthetic devices. We’re hoping to use the camp setting to help users of all ages become comfortable in the function of their prosthetics in a variety of situations. There’s been a lot of interest, especially from kids.”
His head has dropped forward until his chin rests on his chest. I don’t understand his body language. Until he angles slightly to expose his right side. Instead of flesh, he has an old-style gripper replacing his hand. That must be what he was trying to hide. As an amputee, he should be a great advocate of what I’m hoping to do.
But there’s anger in his eyes when he looks up at me. “A camp catering to the rich. Those would be the only people who could afford your products.”
This is a legitimate concern. One that I’ve had to address many times for disbelievers as well as the company board of directors. “My family’s company uses 3-D printing technology thus lessening the cost. Our research team is dedicated to finding the least expensive ways to present the most efficient, easy to use, and comfortable prosthetic devices. And if a customer isn’t able to afford one of our products…” I shrug. “We have an amazing group of people and organizations who donate anonymously to that cause.”
The anger has faded to disbelief, but he’s still standing stiff and unyielding. “Right. That sounds like business propaganda to me.”
“Our process for providing needed devices is transparent. I can show you the documentation any time.”
Then I tilt my head and stare up at the sky. Cloud cover has moved in. I did my homework and know the weather here can change in an instant. I need to set up camp while the day is still pleasant. “Look, mister…”
“Luke.”
My lips twitch. That was as begrudging an introduction as I’ve ever heard. “And I’m Sierra Maddox. Nice to meet you.”
He gives a soft snort. “Could have been done on more comfortable terms.”
Before I say anything, a howl of wind makes the trees around us creak and groan. I’ve got to get moving. “I’d like to chat more, but the weather’s changing fast.”
He glances skyward as if only just now noticing how the temperature has dropped with the increasing wind. “Gonna rain.”
“Probably. I’ll get off your property and set up camp.”
“Camp?”
I pat the large pack hanging from my parachute harness and explain slowly. “Yes, I plan to camp out here a few days and investigate the area. See if the property will work for our needs. Just point me in the direction of another clearing and I’ll be on my way.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry. I have a great sense of knowing where I am. I won’t lose myself.” I half turn and point. “Town is in that direction.” I move my arm. “And the closest state park is about, oh, forty miles over there, as the crow flies of course. So the property I’m interested in is…”
With another quarter turn, I’m pointing in the right direction. He attempts to hide the surprise and—did I only imagine it—his grudging respect.
A fat, cold raindrop splashes on my outstretched hand. I need to get under cover quickly.
“It’s going to pour in about two minutes,” Luke says in a flat tone.
“It takes less than a minute to set up my tent. If I could borrow your clearing until the rains stops, I’ll move on when the weather clears.”
Rubbing his fingers over his claw, he glances toward the sky and shakes his head. “This one will stick around.”
“I can hunker down as long as necessary.”
The wind picks up and the pattering of raindrops grows louder. A crash of thunder makes me jump, drawing Luke’s attention. Even as the day grows dark around us I know the exact moment resignation settles over him.
“You can’t stay out here. Follow me.”
Not waiting for a thank you, a refusal, or any acknowledgement, he turns and strides away. After five paces he jerks to a stop, turns, and returns to grab my harness and pack, slinging it over his shoulder to join the small pack already there. “I’m not in the mood for a drenching. Come with me… Sierra.”
The way he says my name does delightful things to me, raising tiny prickles of awareness along my skin. Or are they chill bumps because it’s suddenly turned even colder?
Getting soaked wouldn’t be my choice either but he’s turned away before I nod my assent. Appreciating the view of his thigh muscles flexing under his worn jeans, I follow Luke from the clearing.
After glancing back over his shoulder, he nods and increases his pace. The rain is falling faster and even though the trees block a good share of the rainfall a cold drop trails down the back of my neck under my jacket. I lengthen my strides and move to his side. His lips twitch in what I assume is meant to be approval. He’s difficult to read.
“Not much further,” he says.
Less than a minute later we step from under the heavy canopy of trees to a neat clearing with a large, two story cabin, complete with a wide porch and an upper deck. This is where he lives? Despite my impression of him, I’d pictured a squat cabin with crumbled chinking surrounded by discarded junk.
I’m impressed.