Chapter 2 #3
Helping meant risk, meant exposure. But ignoring the girl wasn’t an option. She’d been a child like this once—alone, scared, while her mother disappeared for days at a time. If it weren’t for Emberly, she would have had no one.
Nimue adjusted her cap, keeping her face shadowed, and stepped closer, crouching to the child’s level. “Hey, sweetie.” Nimue kept her voice soft, the tone once used on her when she’d been a scared foster kid. “You lost?”
The girl’s fingers slipped from her mouth as she sniffed again, her lip quivering. “I want Mama.”
Nimue scanned the area. A few tourists were climbing out of vehicles in the distance, car doors slamming, voices carrying on the morning air, but no one seemed to be missing a child. She forced a smile, keeping it gentle. “We’ll find her, okay? What’s your name?”
“Lily,” the girl whispered, her big brown eyes locking onto Nimue’s with the complete trust only small children possessed.
“Pretty name. I’m—” She caught herself before giving her real name. “I’m a friend. Let’s find Mama.”
The little girl stepped forward and wrapped her tiny arms around Nimue’s neck, the gesture so trusting it made her chest ache.
Okay. Nimue straightened, lifting the child, her mind racing. The cameras were still a threat. She’d have to move fast, stay low-profile.
A broad figure appeared at the edge of her vision—khaki pants, tan shirt, the confident stride of someone in charge. Not the stiff uniform of the welcome-center rangers, but close enough.
“Excuse me.” Nimue raised her voice slightly as she stepped toward the ranger.
He turned, and she caught the faintest hitch in his expression—surprise, maybe, or curiosity.
Then recognition slammed into her like a physical blow.
That face—rugged, sun-weathered, and oh, he had deep-blue eyes, something almost magnetic about them.
The ranger from her camera feed. The one who’d seen her.
Her pulse spiked, but she smothered the reaction. He didn’t know her, not really. She was just another visitor to him.
Up close, he was annoyingly handsome, dark curls tousled from the wind and touched with gold where the morning sun hit them.
All strong jaw and quiet intensity, solidly built, with climbing gear hanging from his belt as if rappelling down cliff faces was just another Tuesday.
Those penetrating blue eyes held the kind of intensity that probably made lost hikers feel instantly safer—and made smart women like Nimue want to run before they did something stupid.
Like trust him.
Yeah, someone less disciplined might be tempted to drown in those deep-blue eyes. But not her.
She shifted Lily’s weight in her arms—the girl still latched tight to her. “Found this little one crying back there.” She nodded toward the drop box as Lily snuggled deeper into her shoulder, the child’s warmth seeping through her jacket. “Can you help me find her parents?”
His gaze softened as it flicked to Lily, his entire demeanor shifting. “Hey, kiddo.” He ducked slightly to see Lily’s face. “What’s your name?”
“Lily.” She peeked at him, a small smile appearing for the first time.
Great. If she’d thought this ranger’s intense stare had been dangerous, the smile that lit up his face was downright lethal.
“I’m Liam.” His voice carried warmth that probably melted hearts all over the North Rim. “We’ll get you back to your mom, okay?”
He unclipped his radio. “Eden. This is Liam. Got a lost kid here just outside the main entrance of the lodge. About three, dark curls, brown eyes. Goes by Lily. Anyone report her missing?”
Nimue shifted her weight, angling her face away from the nearest camera. Every second out here stretched her luck thinner.
She glanced at Liam again and felt something twist in her chest—something she couldn’t name. In another life, maybe she’d have lingered, traded names, let the conversation wander. But that wasn’t her reality. She was a shadow, and shadows didn’t get to stop running—not from the Bratva.
A shrill cry cut through the air, and a woman burst into view—tall, polished, her designer jacket cringingly out of place against the rugged backdrop. She ran toward them on heels that clicked against the pavement, tears streaming down her perfectly made-up face. “Lily!”
The girl’s head popped up, a smile breaking through the tears as she reached out. “Mama!”
Nimue handed her over, stepping back as the woman clutched Lily tight, designer perfume mixing with the pine-scented air.
“Oh, thank goodness.” The woman’s voice carried that particular pitch of someone who’d just dodged a public-relations nightmare. “That useless nanny—I told her to watch her. I can’t believe this.”
She fumbled in her purse, pulling out a thick wad of cash that probably equaled Nimue’s monthly food budget. “Here, please, take it. A reward.”
“No.” Nimue held up her hands, already edging away. The woman’s self-centered attitude hit too close to memories she’d rather forget. Only she hadn’t had a nanny growing up. Emberly had been the one to care for her.
Liam also took a step back as the woman shoved the money toward him. “Just glad she’s safe.”
“Nonsense, you deserve it. Heroes, both of you.” Then her eyes narrowed, locking onto Liam with the intensity of a heat-seeking missile. “Wait—I know you. That article yesterday. The ranger who saved that little girl from the ledge, right?”
He shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the recognition. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”
She beamed, stepping closer, her tone turning syrupy sweet. “Well, isn’t this my lucky day? A handsome hero right here.”
“Just doing my job.” He took another step back, but her well-manicured hand landed on his arm like a claw.
Nimue’s skin prickled as heads turned—tourists pausing mid-stride, a couple of kids pointing and whispering. The woman was drawing a crowd.
“Maybe we should get coffee. You can tell me all about your job,” the woman said, putting Lily down, almost forgotten.
Nimue fought the strangest urge to pick up the girl, keep her safe, loved.
Around her, people pulled out phones to snap Liam’s picture. Security feeds she could dodge, but a random snapshot posted to social media? That was a death sentence.
Run.
She started to turn away, ready to flee, but caught Liam’s eye. His expression appeared part desperation, part panic. And not a little bit of “Please rescue me.”
Before she could think it through, she stepped forward.
“Sorry, ma’am, but we’ve got to get going.” Nimue tugged on Liam’s arm, her voice bright and firm enough to cut through the woman’s persistence. “Ranger business, you know. Come on, Liam.”
She grabbed his sleeve, tugging him away from the impromptu fan club, and he followed without protest. What looked like relief flickered across his face as they slipped past the lodge, the crowd’s murmur fading behind them.
They turned a corner and she dropped his arm, her pulse still racing. He turned to her, dusting off his hat. “Thanks for the save. I’m Liam Kingsley, by the way—officially.”
She hesitated but he didn’t look ready to give up, and something in his direct gaze made her want to be honest. Almost.
“Nimue.” Just her first name—a small concession.
She started to step past him, but he moved in front of her, not close enough to be threatening but definitely blocking her escape route. “Nim-way? That’s a pretty name. I’ve never heard it before.”
“You’ve never met me before. I’ll see you around.” She stepped past him.
“Wait—” he started, but he didn’t follow and she didn’t look back, couldn’t afford to, though a part of her ached. Liam’s voice, his easy kindness, lingered in her mind as she fast-walked through the village, back to her bike.
She unlocked the bike and climbed on, turning toward where she’d left her camper. She couldn’t drag anyone else into this—not Lily, not Liam, not even a stranger with a camera.
Nimue adjusted her backpack, the scanner and stickers a quiet reminder of who she had to be. Time to disappear again.
But as she headed into the pines, bike wheels churning against the forest floor, a small, stubborn part of her wished, just for a moment, that it could be different.