Mountain Man’s Redemption (Whispered Echoes)

1. Daphne

1

DAPHNE

I grab my gloves from my pocket and pull them on as I hurry across the street, ducking my head as snowflakes tumble down from the sky. When I left Iowa last week, spring was already in the air. But out here in the Rockies, winter isn’t done with us yet, and I almost slip on a patch of ice as I step back onto the sidewalk, grabbing onto a streetlight to keep myself upright.

Maybe I should have chosen Florida for my fresh start.

I could be basking in 80-degree heat right now.

But despite the cold, Cherry Hollow looks beautiful in the snow, with its quaint stores and rustic buildings. Mountains shroud the town, the rugged peaks rising up like protective walls. It feels safe. Quiet. And right now, that’s exactly what I need.

I never planned to move to Colorado. Heck, if someone had told me a month ago that I’d be living in a mountain town in the Rockies, I’d have said they were nuts. Until last week, I’d only ever lived in Plainville, Iowa—a small town south of Des Moines. My family has lived there for generations, and my dad has been the mayor since I was a little girl, re-elected five times over. It was home…until the scandal became public. Now my parents are facing criminal charges, and our reputation in Plainville has been ruined forever. I can’t go back. I can’t bear to hear the whispers, the comments from people who think I knew what was happening.

But I didn’t know.

If only they’d believe that.

I left Plainville with some clothes, my art supplies, and very little else. I had no plan, but I knew I needed something different, something new—so I headed for the mountains. I only meant to stop in Cherry Hollow for a coffee, but something about this place spoke to me. It felt like this was exactly where I needed to be. So I stayed. I found a little apartment, moved in a few days later, and now I’m trying to find my feet in this new world. It’s not home yet. I’m not sure if it ever will be. But it’s a start.

Shivering, I finally reach Buttercup Bakery and hurry into the warmth. It smells like heaven in here, and I eye the golden pastries and treats on the counter as I join the back of the line. This town is famous for its cherry pie, and I figure it’s time I find out what all the fuss is about. Tasting a slice seems like the first step to becoming a real Cherry Hollow girl.

As I wait in line, the door to the bakery opens, and there’s a burst of icy air as an old woman hurries inside, wrapped up in a thick coat. She takes her place behind me, and I feel her eyes drilling into my face through her purple-rimmed glasses. When I finally meet her gaze, she doesn’t look away.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Her voice is uncomfortably loud, and I draw back a little.

“Uh…no, I just moved here.”

The woman nods and reaches out to shake my hand. “Rita Danvers. I can always tell a new face. What brings you to Cherry Hollow?”

It sounds more like a demand than a question. Those bespectacled eyes are narrowed with curiosity, but despite my annoyance, I force a smile. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with the locals.

“Change of scenery,” I tell her. “This town seemed like the perfect place for a fresh start.”

“A fresh start, huh?”

I blink at her. “Yes.”

“Hmm.” Rita is quiet for a few moments, and I awkwardly turn back to face the counter, wishing the line would move faster.

“In my experience,” she continues suddenly, “people looking for a fresh start are usually running from something. Divorce, drama, scandal…”

My heart thuds. I open my mouth to reply, but the words die in my throat.

“Where are you from?” Rita presses.

None of your business, lady.

I want to tell her to leave me alone, but I’ve never been good with confrontation. Heck, that’s why I left Iowa in the first place. Every time I tried to defend myself from rumors and gossip, I lost my nerve. By the end, I could barely leave the house.

“I’m from Ohio,” I say eventually.

The lie probably isn’t necessary. The chances of this woman finding out about my family’s scandal are pretty slim, as the story didn’t travel far beyond Iowa. But I still don’t want her knowing a thing about me. Plainville was full of people like Rita—small-town gossips whose lives revolved around their neighbors’ business. People like her are the reason I was forced to leave.

“Where in Ohio?”

I pull a city out of thin air. “Cleveland.”

“Hmm. Lots of crime in Cleveland.”

I ignore her, focusing my gaze forward once more. I’m almost at the front of the line now, and I’m itching to leave the bakery and escape those beady eyes. From behind me, I hear the door open again, and Rita tuts loudly.

“Damn criminal,” she mutters. “I don’t know how he dares to show his face.”

I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of looking around, but I can’t help it. Her words pique my curiosity, and I casually turn my head toward the door to see who she’s talking about. It takes my brain a second to process what I’m seeing.

Holy crap…

A bearded giant is walking into the bakery, keeping his head down as he joins the back of the line. He’s the biggest man I’ve ever seen—broad and burly—wearing a flannel shirt that strains against his wide shoulders. Tattoos peek out from beneath his sleeves, and my mouth goes dry as I stare at him. It’s like his presence has sucked all the air from the room, his giant frame taking up all the space. But despite his intimidating figure, the man seems determined not to look up. He avoids eye contact with everyone, scowling at the floor with his arms crossed.

“You beware of that one,” Rita hisses in my ear. “Garrett Black. He’s no good.”

“I don’t?—”

“He’s a criminal. Doesn’t belong in this town.”

I flinch as Rita shoots a withering glare in Garrett’s direction. It feels like I’m back in Plainville, trying to ignore the dirty looks and the ugly murmur of voices, all muttering the same words.

Scandal…affair…money…arrested…

This time, the words are directed at somebody else, but that doesn’t make me feel any better, and I feel a twinge of sympathy for Garrett. I try to catch his eye, hoping to give him a reassuring smile. But he doesn’t look up.

I wonder what he did to make her call him a criminal.

Probably nothing at all. People like Rita don’t let the truth get in the way of a good piece of gossip. I know that all too well.

“Excuse me?”

The soft voice makes me whip around to face the pretty young woman behind the counter. With a jolt, I realize I’m at the front of the line.

“Sorry! Can I get a slice of cherry pie, please?”

“Of course.”

As the girl busies herself with boxing up the pie, I take off my gloves and stuff them in my back pocket. Then I unzip my wallet, my hands trembling slightly. I can feel Garrett’s presence behind me, looming up like a mountain, and it takes all my concentration not to look at him again.

Crap. Focus.

Rita is muttering something, but I tune her out as I pay for my pie. Then, with a quick thank you to the clerk, I turn to leave without another word. I take a few steps toward the door, focusing on the pie box in my hands, but when I’m almost level with Garrett, I can’t resist. My eyes flicker upward, and I stop in my tracks.

He’s looking right at me.

For a moment, I’m totally frozen. He’s so handsome. Ridiculously, stupidly, insanely handsome. His intense brown eyes root me to the spot, burning into me as I take in his rugged features, from his strong nose to his thick brows. There’s something wild about him—almost like he was carved from the stone of the surrounding mountains. I’ve never seen a man like him before, and blood pulses hot and quick in my veins, an unfamiliar shudder running down my spine. Then, all at once, I remember where I am…standing in a bakery, staring at a stranger.

Blushing, I tear my gaze away from Garrett and rush for the door, barreling into the crisp April morning without a backward glance.