Under Juniper Skies (Juniper View #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Sam

Gravel sprays under my ancient sedan as I tap my brakes gently and beg the car to slow before any more damage is done.

Of course I have a flat.

I’m three miles from my destination after what feels like a lifetime of travel and of course it’s all falling apart now.

After months of dreaming. Two full days of travel. Over a year of carefully extricating myself from my old life.

The car wobbles to a stop and the engine sputters when I pull my foot from the clutch too soon. Whoops. But the automatic would’ve cost more when I bought it years ago, so here we are. I know how to drive this old girl, but I might be a touch frazzled.

A loud yowl comes from the back seat. I turn to see Mr. Bingley hunched as far back in his carrier as he can, giving me a look that says he’d like to complain about the service.

“I know, buddy. A little longer and then you’ll be able to stretch your legs.” Granted, he’s not loving the hotel-hopping life, so I’ll have to move him at least once more, but after that?

Maybe we can stay put and just… be happy.

Or at least find some version of life that doesn’t feel so damn bleak. That’s the bar, at this point. The whole goal, really.

For now, I fold away those wild hopes and get to work. “Okay, baby. Let’s do this.”

I haven’t changed a tire in a minute. Maybe a few years. Possibly a decade. But I can do this.

Everything I’ve been through? Yeah. Tire trouble, you shall not derail my path to a new life if an abusive ex-husband and leaving my entire life behind hasn’t yet. Toss in a touch of childhood poverty, a life stuck barely making ends meet until the crappy ex entered the scene, and voila!

Hence my mantra: I can do this.

I just have to get out of the car.

Which I can totally do. Not a problem.

I may be on a strip of road at twilight in a place I’ve never been with low battery on my phone and no one to call for help, but I will be fiiiine.

The fact that I’m still in the driver’s seat white-knuckling the steering wheel merely indicates I’m giving my overactive nervous system a moment to gird her loins and go do this thing. And doesn’t she deserve that? Yes. Yes, she—

A knock on my window startles me down to my very bones. I’m fairly certain I see my skeleton outside the car, sprinting from the threat that looms.

“Ma’am, you all right?”

I peer through the glass to find a man eying me from a few feet away. He must’ve seen my femur bones up ahead and realized he startled me good and plenty. Despite the raging adrenaline causing the gelatinous leftovers of me to shake, this person appears to be some kind of law enforcement.

With a steadying breath, I remind myself what’s true.

Not all police officers are bad. Not all men are bad. He’s probably trying to help. I wasn’t speeding so I’m not in trouble. I didn’t do anything wrong.

I roll down the window with a crank, crank of the little arm until a cool breeze filters in through three open inches.

Thanks to the primal responses taking place throughout my body, I don’t feel the usual twinge of heat in my cheeks from demonstrating that yes, my windows on this ancient vehicle are also manual.

“Ma’am, can I ask why you’re pulled over on this stretch of road? Did you see the signs posted warning it’s a no-stopping zone?”

I sit up straight and clear my throat like I’m about to make a speech, but what comes out is something far less impressive: “Flat tire.”

“You have a flat tire?” He leans back, eying the car until it settles on the back left tire. “I’d be happy to help you change—”

“No.” My hands are flapping in front of me like a deranged bird. “No. I’ve got it.”

His gaze narrows. He’s got a real cowboy sheriff vibe going with the ten-gallon hat and the greenish pants and khaki shirt.

In another life, I might’ve even enjoyed the view.

But right now, I need him gone. My tunnel vision is on my destination and the bone-crushing weariness weighing down my entire system.

And stopping Mr. Bingley from howling like the undead.

“I promise. I’ve got it.”

“Need help setting it up?”

He’s still standing about four feet from the car. I appreciate the space but it’s not enough to tempt me to exit.

“Oh, no. I’m sure you have other things you need to get to.”

Another aggrieved meow practically echoes into the treetops, it’s so loud.

His eyes narrow on the back seat, then shift to me again. “I don’t.”

I want to deal with this man I don’t know on the side of a road in what is apparently a no-stopping zone like I want to have extensive dental work done, and yet, I’ll admit some help would be nice.

“You sure?” I roll up my window and open the door. “Because I can handle it if you’ve got other sheriff-y business to attend to.” His truck says Peak County Sheriff, so I’ve taken the clue.

“Certain.”

His eyes skate over me as I stand, still tucked slightly behind my driver’s side door, and I meet his gaze for the first time.

Whoa.

This guy is… unreal.

He’s got to be well over six feet with dark hair and a jawline that would make a model jealous. And the rest… Well, I can’t see his eyes thanks to that cowboy hat situation.

Wait, I left Hollywood, right? My LA exit was long awaited, but I’m standing here witnessing a man who looks more like a movie version of a hot cop than a person who would actually be a small-town law enforcement officer.

Sheriff.

Whatever.

“Okay, well, thank you so much. I appreciate it.” I offer a smile and try not to think about how bedraggled I am.

I didn’t shower at the gross motel we stayed in last night.

I’d hoped to make the drive in one long day, but Mr. Bingley had some tummy issues and I decided we needed to break when we reached Southern Utah.

I haven’t done a proper yoga routine in days, and I haven’t spent any quality time outside.

Sunshine? What’s that? I must look like a reanimated corpse right now.

The sheriff hooks a thumb into his belt. He’s got a side holster likely carrying a weapon and a few different pouches, but he doesn’t seem as hulked out with accessories as the LAPD often did.

And thank goodness we’re not in LA anymore.

“Are you heading to Juniper View for lodging or continuing on?”

My hackles rise a touch because I’m not in the habit of telling random men where I plan to stay. I move toward the trunk and hope he doesn’t follow too close. “I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable sharing that information.”

If he’s surprised, he covers it well. “I’m concerned that if you put a temporary spare on your vehicle, it’s not going to make it much farther.

There isn’t anything else around unless you turn and head back to Silverton.

Past us is a bit of sprawl and then you’ve got to keep going until you hit Wyoming.

Doesn’t sit well with me, thinking you might blow the spare on your way through parts unknown overnight.

We’re a Dark Sky community and nighttime isn’t easy once you get out of town. So I’m asking the question.”

His tone starts reasonable and explanatory, even compassionate, but there’s an edge at the end that sends my pulse rising.

It’s suspicion, maybe even an accusation couched in this do-gooder persona, I sense.

I could absolutely be reading him wrong, but I’m also not from here. I don’t know him and vice versa.

“Right. Yeah. Well, I promise I’m not driving to Wyoming.

” He doesn’t need to know my final destination is in fact Juniper View and I’m aiming for the little motel a few miles outside it, opposite from where we are now based on the GPS.

I don’t know what a Dark Sky anything is, but I get the gist—nighttime is dark around here. Got it, bud.

My hands shake a touch because it’s clicking now how dangerous this is—being out here with one giant of a man and no one else for miles. The road skirts the rise of the mountain on one side, and on the other is forest.

It’s quiet.

Remote.

And probably perfect for hiding a body.

I fumble the wrench, and a few little wedges fall onto the ground. “Sorry. I’m—you really don’t have to help.”

“I’ll set these up, unless you’d rather I get the tire?”

He waits a moment, holding the wedges, and I wave him off. I don’t know why my heart’s racing. It’s not exactly stealthy murder if he takes me out right here and now. Plus, shouldn’t he have a body camera, or a dash cam? If my phone wasn’t about to die, I’d turn on video.

Cool, yeah, then some poor sap who finds your phone can witness your untimely death after the fact. Great plan.

“I’ve got the tire, thanks.”

He nods and moves to place the wedges under the other tires. I honestly might’ve forgotten that part, so I’m glad he’s here. Assuming the absence of a major crime.

I don’t want to keep looking at him for fear he’ll get suspicious of me, and I don’t want to look away because it seems even more suspicious.

Even though I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just a normal human woman traversing the Mountain West in search of a new beginning. And I’m gleefully leaving behind what had truly become a sad, endless loop of drudgery and drama.

So! Here I am.

Completely normal.

“All set.”

He walks back over to me, and I won’t call it a saunter just because he’s wearing a cowboy hat, but in my heart, that’s what it is. And as wrong as it might be, I can’t help noticing he has a very nice… everything.

Like honestly, everything from his tidy boots and perfectly fitting slacks to the clean shave of his jaw are rather magnificent.

Well done, Juniper View.

But also, wasn’t Ted Bundy supposedly extremely handsome?

“I’ll get the—”

“I’ve got it.” I’m being weird. A jerk, even, but I’ve had about enough of people ordering me around, and I am capable of changing a tire.

He holds up his hands like he’ll leave me to it, and he does.

I maneuver the spare out of the trunk, ignoring the rust on the hub, and get to work.

He steps in just once, silently and without my asking, but somehow he avoids invading my personal space, and in another few minutes, the tire is changed.

“See!” I must sound like a child as I dust off my jeans and smile over at him.

His gaze is right there and I still can’t quite see what color his eyes are thanks to the low light, but I can’t deny the actual architecture of his face is stunning.

Piercing eyes, strong nose, thick brows just under the brim of his hat and bone structure that says he’s a perplexing combo of an Avenger and a fine art study in lines.

He has the unsmiling mien of a Mr. Darcy-style hero. But also. This is real life.

“Thanks for your help,” I say. I fear it sounds a touch breathless because he steps toward me, then holds out a card.

“My card. Includes the number for the station in case your journey to not-Wyoming ends up causing you any trouble. As long as you’re still in the county, we can help.”

I glance at the card but don’t really see the words as I blurt, “It’ll be fine.”

But a part of me is relieved to have this because I definitely don’t have the kind of car insurance that offers roadside assistance, and I didn’t spring for AAA because I’m not spending an extra dime on something I don’t need for longer than two days.

“Be safe, then,” he says, gives me a chin dip, and walks around the front of my car, no doubt eying it for more clues to whatever puzzle he’s putting together in his head.

Or maybe he’s just off to save some other more cooperative damsel in distress.

Will the duct tape holding the front bumper together make me seem less concerning to him? Who knows. I don’t have the mental energy to stress about it.

Whatever the case, I don’t exhale fully until I hear him get back in his vehicle. Then and only then do I take a moment to inhale and appreciate the delicious piney scent. The air is cool and fresh here in the mountains, and it feels like the exact antidote to the California smog I grew up in.

I settle back into the car since he’s still there, presumably waiting on me to leave, reassure Mr. Bingley once again, and take a deep breath.

One small obstacle conquered, and by this time tomorrow, I’ll have my feet on the ground and be hunting down a job and a place to live in Juniper View. I’ll disappear into the small-town life and figure out which way is up.

My engine putters to life and I stick to the speed limit to make sure I don’t attract any more attention from the hottie sheriff.

The last thing I’m looking for is another Prince Charming look-alike who ends up being an absolute frog.