Chapter 2
Archer
I’ve never seen a prettier hitchhiker.
Long brown hair in a braid, slightly turned-up nose, blue eyes that would put the Atlantic to shame.
Six years ago, when I first drove here all the way from Texas, I passed by bearded men with nothing but the shirts on their backs, young couples with massive rucksacks, and even a man who resembled a convict escaping from a local penitentiary.
I hadn’t stopped for any of them. I usually don’t for hitchhikers. You never know what you could be picking up. But I’d made an exception for this lady.
Smoke plumes from the car behind her as she stares at me, unresponsive, as if she’s just seen a ghost. No, not a ghost. She looks way too happy for that. Delighted, even.
I can’t help but stare in return. Her features are magnetic, and looking at her causes a pleasure in the base of my stomach that’s too satisfying to stop. I think my approval shows on my face because her smile grows.
“Hi,” she finally greets with a cheerful tone and no response to my earlier offer of help.
I chuckle. “Hi.”
Again her stare continues, shifting only a moment to my left hand resting on top of the steering wheel. When she returns her eyes to mine, there’s a look in them that tells me I’m missing something.
“You doing all right?” I ask after another second.
She blinks, smoothing down her hair and licking her lips before speaking. “Yes. Just surprised.”
Her voice is light and smooth.
“Surprised that I stopped to help you? Weren’t you signaling for that?”
She nods, a few locks of her hair fluttering down her cheeks. “Yeah, I’m just surprised it’s you.”
I narrow my eyes. “Do I...know you?”
Disappointment flashes across her features. “No, I guess not.”
“But you know me?”
Her eyes are framed with long, thick lashes. “Everyone in Autumn Ridge knows you, Archer.”
I sit back, stunned. She really does know me. And the town.
My brain works overtime as I try to place her in my memory. I definitely wouldn’t forget a face like hers. Unless I did? Now that I think about it, she looks vaguely familiar. Something about those eyes. But I don’t think I’d forget her if I really knew her.
I want to ask her how exactly she knows me and if she’s from Autumn Ridge, but something seems to shift inside her. She gives her head a little shake.
“My car died,” she says, sticking a thumb over her shoulder. “I just need a ride into town with my things, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all. I’ll pull around and help you load it up.”
She takes a few steps back, and I drive my truck in front of her car that’s only lightly smoking now.
I step down and close the door behind me, turning to see the length of the woman. She’s wearing a loose, long-sleeved shirt that’s tucked partway into her jeans, and her thick braid drapes over her shoulder nearly down to her waist.
She reaches forward with an outstretched hand. “I’m Juliet.”
Most girls go straight in for a hug or settle with an awkward wave. I won’t say no to a handshake, though my skin tingles at her touch.
“Juliet,” I repeat. Still doesn’t ring a bell. “I’d introduce myself, but I guess I don’t have to.”
She smiles enigmatically. “No, you don’t.” Then she turns to her car. “There’s just a few suitcases and boxes.”
“Allow me.”
Together, we unload the backseat and trunk of her car as I still try to place her. I’m not a hermit, but I don’t get out as much as I should. That’s probably why I don’t know her.
“Are you moving to Autumn Ridge?” I ask as I take a heavy suitcase from her arms.
“More like moving back.”
She’s withholding information on purpose. That much is obvious because of her secretive expression.
The question is, why is she being secretive?
“I figured you were from there originally,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because only someone from Autumn Ridge would know it’s safe to hitchhike around here.”
“You’re right about that. My dad would still freak out if he knew I was doing this, though. Especially with you.”
My intrigue deepens. Her dad knows me and doesn’t trust me? I’m an upstanding, rule-abiding guy...for the most part. Especially now that I’m twenty-seven.
“Not that you’re sketchy or anything,” she rushes to explain, handing me another box before I hoist it up to the truck bed for her.
“Just more sketchy than the random stranger you were expecting to pick you up?” I ask.
She laughs and tosses her thick braid over her shoulder, bending down to dig out another box. The back pockets of her pants have colorful, embroidered flowers on them. I look away as she straightens.
“My dad is just really protective,” she explains. “I should warn you, though. I know self-defense and have pepper spray easily accessible, so I wouldn’t mess with me if I were you.”
The way her eyes shine, I can tell she knows she won’t have to use either on me. But how does she know? Especially after I was checking out her...back pockets?
I take another box out of her hands but don’t move toward the truck. “Look, I gotta say, I’m dying to know how you know me.”
She pulls out another box and walks to the truck herself, standing on the tips of her toes to push it farther back. She has to be a full foot shorter than me, which isn’t hard, considering my six-foot-two. “I grew up in Autumn Ridge.”
She is definitely keeping her identity vague on purpose.
I follow her to the truck and hop up to settle her belongings securely toward the back of the bed. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain how I don’t know you.”
“We’re in different spheres. Autumn Ridge is small, but two thousand people is still a lot to know. And let’s be honest, I’m nothing memorable.”
Guilt kicks me in the gut.
She hands me the final box, and I take it with an apologetic look. “Well, now we have met, I promise I won’t forget you.”
I jump down from the back of the truck, and she watches me with those big, doe eyes of hers as I close the tailgate. “I hate to break it to you, Archer, but we have met before.”