Chapter 4
“Fuck me!”
A litany of dirty words slipped out of my mouth when I lost my footing and started to tumble sideways on the narrow path.
I’d had to wait a couple of days for the sun to shine and dry everything out before attempting to trek down to the base of the valley. I also had to repair the new hole dug into my driveway after Risky’s first attempt at using the skid loader. He’d definitely needed a tutorial before I let him loose, and I’d learned my lesson. Instead of asking him if he could handle something and then having to go behind him and clean up his mistakes, I needed to show him the ropes first, regardless of his assurances. To be fair, he picked up skills quickly once given the proper guidance. If I showed him once, I could leave him to his own devices afterward. He had been properly apologetic about the damage done to the driveway. I found him trying to fill the holes by hand with a rusty shovel. I had been tempted to let him struggle until he needed to ask for help, but there was too much to do around the property to get ready for the high season. I couldn’t let him spin his wheels in good conscience.
Because there was so much ready for me to tackle, I’d decided to take the opportunity when the lodge was between guests to make my way to the river. All the rooms were currently empty. There was a big family-reunion group checking in tomorrow, which would be a ton of work for the limited staff I currently had. The hike down the mountain served not only to assuage my curiosity, but also gave me a rare chance to clear my head and be alone with my thoughts.
Since I spent most days thinking about my guests’ wants and needs, it was uncommon to have a free moment to focus on myself. Even when I found the time, all I could think about was what needed to be done at the lodge. And how different things might have been if I had come back when I was supposed to. I was full of regret for the delay. My granddad would be disappointed in me if he had lived long enough to witness my life go completely off the rails. When Banner had asked if I feared being alone, the real answer was hell no .
I preferred it.
I never wanted to be responsible for another person’s thoughts or feelings ever again. I refused to be someone else’s reason to live—or die. The singular time I’d tried to be normal and experience first love like any other young woman in her twenties, it went awry in the worst way imaginable. How my relationship crashed and burned in the most epic of ways had further proven to me that I wasn’t meant to be part of a duo. I did much better on my own.
Except in instances like now, when I nearly fell down the mountainside and broke my neck, even though I knew this trail forward and backward. I had grown up playing in this valley and running up and down the hills. I’d assumed it was fine to ignore the never-hike-alone rule. I wasn’t supposed to trip over my feet and miss a step, nearly breaking an ankle.
I swore again when I felt a twinge of pain with every step I took as I forged on ahead. I was closer to the basin than the trailhead, and I’d already made it this far; it made no sense to turn around and limp my way back to the top. After I was finished scoping out the area I had seen the other night, I’d call Dex and ask him to drive down on the four-wheeler, and I’d catch a ride back to the lodge. It was likely the only task assigned to him that he would enjoy.
I was fully limping and could see my ankle swelling by the time I reached the river. I sent a rescue message to the teenager and a backup one to Risky. I didn’t think Dex would ignore me, but he’d been known to miss a message if he was playing games on his phone or messaging his friends from school. It was questionable if Risky could figure out how to operate the old four-wheeler. And I didn’t need the headache of him driving off the side of the mountain just because I was clumsy and stubborn.
It’d been several days since the storm, and it had rained on and off all week. It was highly unlikely I would find anything, but my curiosity wouldn’t let me leave well enough alone. I needed to see with my own two eyes if there was anything amiss. I was too protective of my peace and home to let any doubts linger.
The sun was out, but there was a chill in the air, indicating the seasons were on the brink of changing. Some trees were losing their leaves, and pine needles littered the basin. All the wildflowers that dotted the valley were dead, and there was a distinct silence that was unsettling and brought goose bumps out on my arms. It was time for all the birds to migrate and large wildlife to settle in for the start of winter, leaving an eerily quiet and isolating scene. The water level in the river was high and moving fast. The only sound that broke the hush was the rush of the water and my heavy breathing.
I took a forgotten hair tie off my wrist and wrapped my shoulder-length hair into a stubby ponytail at the base of my head. The bone-straight strands were naturally black, but I’d added chunky blonde highlights throughout, which Banner cheerfully referred to as skunk stripes. The quirky color brightened my entire appearance. I had brown eyes that were so dark that they often looked black, and my complexion leaned toward appearing like I had a light tan all year long. My mom’s mom was Japanese. Those genetics had been diluted through the generations, to the point that I hardly had any Asian features, other than the color of my hair and eyes. I was also fairly short, like my mom. I’d never thought of myself as vertically challenged until I started spending time around Risky. He loomed over me; my head barely reached his shoulder.
His size made it even funnier that he was incompetent. I knew it was a generalization with no proof behind it, but most guys his size seemed to be very capable and know their way around the ins and outs of home repair. It was easy to picture him chopping wood and putting all those heavy muscles in his shoulders and arms to work, even if I knew he’d likely never handled an axe before.
I chuckled at the mental image I’d conjured up and shook my head to get my focus back on the task at hand. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be looking for, but I figured if there were signs of one person carrying another through that storm, there would be signs left in the foliage and soil around the river. The ground was still damp from all the rain, and the banks of the river had long overrun. I saw plenty of animal tracks and some signs of people fishing nearby, but nothing stood out as suspicious or out of place. My ankle was throbbing, making me hiss with pain through my teeth with each step. It had been a dumb decision to hike down here, and I was mad at myself for not being able to control the impulse.
I found a fallen log that looked mostly dry to sit on and poked at my swollen flesh. It wasn’t a debilitating injury, but it was enough to make me seriously uncomfortable for the next few days. I couldn’t afford the time it needed to rest and heal and silently berated myself because I should’ve known better.
Wallowing for a few minutes and feeling sorry for myself, I’d been battling an invisible force that had it out for me since the second I had been born. Having terrible luck was as much a part of my life as breathing. I’d gotten so used to things taking a left turn that I was rarely fazed when things fell apart or went way wrong. Dealing with a twisted ankle barely registered on the scale of misfortune I used to rate my weekly mishaps.
I tilted my head back to look at the sky. It always seemed bluer and the clouds brighter and fluffier when at this high of an elevation. There were days when it seemed like it was possible to reach out and pluck one from where it hung and stash it in a pocket.
I exhaled a long breath and tried to let the tension I’d been storing in my bones flow out of my body. There was so much riding on me being able to make the lodge successful; I couldn’t help but worry about failing and letting my grandparents down. I lived each day like there was a kettle of vultures circling, waiting for me and my dreams to die. I pretended that the pressure didn’t get to me and acted like nothing bothered me. Deep down, I was terrified of making the wrong move and having everything I’d worked so hard for stolen out from under me.
The dreary thoughts were broken by the sound of the four-wheeler in the distance. Someone had heard my distress call and was coming to the rescue, which meant there wasn’t much time left to explore the riverbed. I slowly pushed to my feet and swore as a bolt of pain shot up my leg. I found a loose branch to use as a walking stick and headed farther upriver from where I had seen the “body” get dumped in the water. To my surprise, the more upstream I moved, there were clear signs of a struggle. Muddy footprints in a chaotic pattern. A trail where it was obvious something heavy had been dragged. A torn piece of fabric hanging off of a tree branch. There were even signs of blood on a few of the rocks that were sheltered from the rain, lining the waterway.
I snapped photos of everything with my phone and inwardly felt vindicated. It wasn’t often that I was proven right about something. My luck, more often than not, made me look like a fool. I wasn’t thrilled that it looked like something nefarious had happened so close to home, but I was happy to be right and know my mind hadn’t played tricks on me that night. I planned to take this evidence to the police and let them investigate whatever was going on and didn’t need to be involved any further than that. My chronic misfortune and any involvement with law enforcement were not a good mix.
I stooped to get an up-close picture of a clear footprint when something suddenly whizzed by my ear. I was so startled that I lost my balance, fell into the mud, and dropped my phone. I blinked in surprise, stunned as a loud bang echoed throughout the silent valley. Staying low, I scrambled to retrieve my phone from the muck, trying to make myself a smaller target while not slipping and falling again.
Growing up in the mountains, and having a grandfather who often acted as a trail guide for hunters, I knew what a gunshot sounded like. Plus, this valley bordered a state wildlife area, which frequently led to lost hunters and fishermen wandering onto our property. Typically, it wasn’t a big deal as long as they were licensed and hunting during the proper season, but I’d never had one mistake me for game before. Along with never hiking alone, I probably should have thrown on a neon-colored safety vest, just to be extra cautious.
Once I moved away from the river and found a spot covered with rocks and trees, I stood up and waved my arms. “Hey! Be careful!”
Another bang shattered the silence, and a bullet zipped by close enough that I could feel the breeze before it disappeared harmlessly into the river.
I raised my voice even louder and started to move toward the tree cover. My injured ankle hindered my gait and slowed me down. “Hey, dipshit! Pay attention! You’re going to hurt someone, and you’re trespassing!” My voice turned shrill as the shots showed no indication of stopping.
After another near miss, I yelped and dove for cover as the muddy ground splashed onto my shoes and the hem of my jeans. I crawled behind a rock, scratching my back on a fallen tree resting on it. The fabric of my T-shirt had ripped, and I could tell I was bleeding.
I had known this hike was doomed from the moment I tripped. But never in a million years had I imagined I’d end up fighting for my life.
“They give hunting licenses to anybody.” I grumbled my irritation and tried to keep low.
The sound of gunfire faded, only to be replaced by the sound of a straining engine. The four-wheeler was close by. Whoever was riding to the rescue made excellent time down the mountain. That ATV was my granddad’s. It’d been around for more winters than I had. It was a miracle it didn’t blow up under the stress and take the driver with it.
“Be careful. There’s a hunter out there who can’t tell a human from a deer. He’s shooting wild.”
I didn’t know if he could hear me over the sound of the motor and the roar from the river, but the four-wheeler stilled, and a rough voice called my name.
“Lucky?” That voice was deep and raspy. Sometimes I thought I could hear a hint of a drawl lingering when he said my name. I couldn’t pinpoint the origin, but it sounded slow and sexy, even at the most inopportune time.
My knight in shining armor wasn’t a teenage boy, but the perplexing man who appeared fearless as he dived headfirst into danger without hesitation.
“Get down!”
I had no way to get Risky out of this valley if he got seriously injured. He was far too big for me to move on my own. And there was no chance that I was mentally prepared to watch another man die right in front of me. If one of those wild shots hit Risky, there was a solid chance my next stop would be a mental health facility.
“It’s safe. They’re out of bullets.”
I gasped and tried to reach behind myself to see how bad the scratch on my back was. I could smell blood and feel wetness dripping down my spine. “How do you know?”
“I was counting the shots as I rode down the trail. That wasn’t a shotgun. It was a handgun. They hold a certain amount of ammunition. Unless the shooter has backup and is reloading, they’re out. But you should move your ass and get out of here in case they are preparing to continue shooting.”
I peeked out of my inadequate shelter and looked at my savior with puzzled eyes. “You don’t hunt with a handgun.”
Risky snorted. “Nope. You sure don’t. Unless you’re hunting humans.”
I crawled out of my hidey-hole, not caring that I was covered in mud and blood. I hissed in pain when I put pressure on my wounded foot and stumbled forward. Risky caught my arm and held me upright. His perfectly shaped eyebrows dropped into a fierce frown when he took in my sorry state.
“What the fuck happened to you? Did you roll down the trail?”
“Almost.” I shook my hair out of my face and looked up the hill in confusion. “Did you see whoever was shooting? I need to call the game warden and get them out here. That was dangerous. It was probably a newbie or some kids fooling around. I forgot to tell you to be careful if you venture into the valley during hunting season.”
Risky grunted as he helped me hobble to the ATV. I’d never been so glad to see a beat-up piece of machinery in my life. I felt like I couldn’t take another step without passing out.
“Nobody can see anything. The trees are too dense, and there are too many places to conceal yourself. Everything is the same color. If the shooter wanted to hide, it would be easy.” Risky’s words were flat and to the point. They sounded an awful lot like he knew what he was talking about.
I frowned. “You keep saying shooter, not hunter.” I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the distinction was pointed and clear.
Risky hummed, but didn’t say anything else as he tossed a long leg over the four-wheeler.
“You handle this ATV better than anything else I’ve asked you to drive while you’ve been here. Why is that?” I didn’t want to think about how close those bullets had come to hitting me. I desperately needed a distraction.
“At one point in my misspent youth, I rode a motorcycle. The controls are similar.”
I chuckled as he started the engine and whipped around to head back up the hill. “Didn’t need the instruction manual for this?”
He didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he grabbed my hand and wrapped it around his lean waist when we hit a washed-out and bumpy part of the trail.
I froze when his body heat hit my fingertips and gulped when the hard abs flexed as he braced himself against the rough motion.
I wasn’t surprised he was fit and rocking a six-pack. It was easy to tell he took care of himself and was not a lightweight. What shocked me to my very core was the way I blushed and how my heart decided to flutter at his closeness. I’d sworn off romance a long time ago, and thus far, my commitment to living a solitary life had been unwavering. When someone told you they would love you until the end of time, declare they couldn’t live without you, and go so far as taking their life in front of you when you proved unable to return their feelings, it soured your outlook on happily ever after.
While my heart was dead in the water, I guessed the rest of my body still worked just fine. It’d just been holding out for the right sort of temptation to bring my libido out of hibernation.
I was so taken aback by the sudden rush of desire and arousal that it never occurred to me that I should stop to question how Risky knew the difference between firearms just by the sound of the gunshot, and why he was so familiar with how many shots belonged to a certain make of gun. I also forgot to question why he didn’t seem at all rattled, racing down a mountainside with bullets flying.