Chapter 6 #3
Who was she kidding? She was already attached.
“Liam.” She forced steadiness into her voice as she opened the door. “What’s up?”
His blue eyes met hers, shadowed and searching, like he was debating flight. Gravel crunched as he shifted his weight. His gaze skimmed the distant canyon before returning.
“Can we talk?” The words came out low, rough-edged. “I owe you an explanation. About Friday. On the trail.”
An explanation…Oh, the haunted look.
Well, she already knew, didn’t she? But she nodded.
Instead of stepping inside, he walked away, toward the canyon’s edge, stopping at a flat rock several yards away, settling as if he expected her to follow.
She secured the camper door, then followed him, sitting in the space beside him.
He stared into the vast expanse. No words.
Yes, she got that. The North Rim could steal your voice right out of your throat.
Ancient limestone cliffs plunged into purple shadows while the far rim shimmered gold in the distance.
Wind whispered through the ponderosa pines behind them, carrying the scent of sage and something indefinable.
Something wild and vast and eternal that made her lungs expand despite herself.
The perfect place to hide. Or at least so she’d thought.
His hand raked through his hair once, twice. Finally he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I overreacted. When you stumbled, I saw…someone else. Someone I didn’t save—couldn’t save.”
Her throat tightened. She’d seen his grief captured in grainy newsprint, but hearing it from him—raw, unfiltered—hit like a physical blow.
“You don’t have to—”
He shook his head, cutting her off, eyes locking onto hers. “I want to. Need to.”
She nodded even as he turned back to the view.
Silence stretched. Then: “Her name was Christiana. She was…a friend. Part of a group that chased thrills together. Paragliding, rappelling, climbing. Basically adrenaline junkies from around the world who’d connected through an adventure app.”
“How many in the group?”
“Maybe fifteen, but not everyone made every trip. Nine of us that morning. We’d gotten up early to climb Mont Blanc. First stretch went perfectly—good time, perfect weather.”
His gaze fixed on something half a world away.
“We stopped for lunch. She had packed a few mini bottles of wine. Said she was celebrating the morning. I didn’t question it.
My European friends seemed to have a different relationship with alcohol than I grew up with.
I respected that. Then we started the next stretch and…
she slipped. Three anchors gave way because she hadn’t secured them right.
” His voice broke. He swallowed hard. “She was next to me one second, then just…gone.”
Oh.
She sat there not sure how—but wanting terribly—to fix it. “You think it was the wine?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe she misjudged the rock where she chose to anchor. Maybe there was a hidden fissure that wasn’t obvious. But yeah…” He sighed, swallowed. “Maybe she missed it because she wasn’t as clearheaded as she needed to be.”
“It wasn’t—”
He turned to her, his expression hard, eyes glossy. “Trust me, I’ve maybe-ed myself to death over this. All I know is I feel like I should’ve prevented it. I should’ve—”
“It wasn’t your fault, Liam.”
He drew in a breath. Then, softly, “Feels like it was. I talked her into going. I was closest when she fell. Maybe I should’ve seen…”
Wind carried his words away. Her chest ached. She got it—it was only by a miracle that she wasn’t blaming herself for any deaths at King’s Inn. The Bratva had come after her, and any of Steinbeck’s family could’ve been caught in the crossfire.
Emberly’s words from back then echoed inside, and she found herself repeating them. “You can’t carry the weight of other people’s bad choices.”
“Easier said than done.” He picked up a small stone, tossed it over the edge.
“My twin brother, Logan, broke his leg once because he followed me. I jumped off a boulder, he tried to follow but hesitated. Spent the rest of vacation in the hospital. Wrecked the whole family trip, and it could’ve been so much worse. ”
“Were your parents upset?”
“Mom was furious at the time. Kept telling me I was an adventurer, a leader, and with that came responsibility for whoever followed.”
“That’s true, but did you tell Logan to jump?
” When he shook his head, she pressed on.
“You’re an adult now. Look at it from your mom’s perspective—injured son, a rush to the hospital.
Maybe she wasn’t angry so much as freaking out.
I doubt she blames you. You didn’t make Logan jump, and you didn’t make decisions for Christiana. ”
Funny how the words made sense when applied to someone else’s situation. Because it sure felt like she was responsible for whoever the Bratva hurt because of what she’d dug up.
His mouth pinched. “I didn’t mean to dump all this on you. Just trying to explain that Friday, when you tripped, I was right back there and…I’m sorry.” He looked at her, blue eyes intense. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.”
“You saved me from taking a header off the cliff.”
“I am glad I kept you from falling. But after…I shouldn’t have held you like that without—”
“Liam. I wasn’t mad. I trust you.” Strange to say the words, but now that she had, she knew they were true. Something about this guy made her feel somehow…settled. Despite the chaos of her life. “But I was worried about you. Thank you for telling me.”
He straightened, eyes softening as he searched her face. “Since we’re having sharing time—you ready to tell me why you’re really here? Or still pretending those satellites are about finding yourself?”
Oh.
His eyes held hers, steady, refusing to let her hide. For a moment, she wanted to spill everything—her shattered childhood, the Bratva’s pursuit, her ache for a sense of belonging.
But the more he knew, the more he could be in danger.
So she laughed, sharp and brittle. “You don’t want my sob story, ranger.”
A small smile curved his lips—the first real one she’d seen tonight. “I think I want to know a lot more about you, Nimue. But I’m a patient man.”
His knee brushed hers. Her heart stuttered.
And suddenly, the air simmered, charged and loaded.
She couldn’t tell him everything. But maybe something…“My dad died when I was young, and my mom…made bad choices. Like the guys she dated. My sister used to steal from them to buy food for us. Once she got caught, only the guy thought I’d done it. He came after me.”
Liam stilled beside her.
“Emberly saved me, but then he took his anger out on her. I blamed myself for how badly he beat her. But…”
“You can’t carry the weight of other people’s bad choices.” He finished for her.
She blinked at him for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Exactly. Anyway, after that, I ended up in foster care.”
His shoulders stiffened. And of course, she expected that. People reacted all sorts of ways to that revelation—pity, wariness, judgment.
Somehow she’d hoped it would be different with Liam.
“When my sister was eighteen, she found me in my current foster home, and we took off for Florida in this old car that broke down in Tennessee. My sister then stole the van of this family and…well, as Providence would have it, they were this amazing foster family who offered to take us in.”
He was watching her, his blue eyes on hers. Unnerving.
Or not. Maybe just intense.
“The Davidsons were amazing. Took in lots of kids. My sister ended up leaving, but I stayed with them until I went to college. I still call their farm home and consider them my parents, in a way. You’d like Boz—his full name is Boaz. He’s a good man.” She hated how defensive she sounded.
“I’m sure I would. I have great respect for people who open their homes like that.” He met her gaze. “I wasn’t…I didn’t…My reaction wasn’t about you.”
“How could it not be?” Maybe they’d shared enough for one day. She dusted her hands, preparing to stand, but his hand landed gently on her arm. She stared at his grip until he pulled it back.
“My oldest brother, Luke, was missing for most of my life—turned out he grew up in foster care.”
“He was missing?”
“Half brother. His bio dad kidnapped him, changed his identity, then died, leaving him a ward of the state. No one knew better.”
“That’s—”
“Crazy? Awful? Everything in between? Yeah, but he fell for the girl who lived next door to his foster mom. Now they’re married and have adopted three of their four kids from foster care.
My twin brother and his fiancée are adopting three siblings from foster care too.
So my reaction wasn’t about you. Just seems like… ”
“A recurring theme?”
“Makes me curious what the Lord’s up to next.” He laughed, pulled out his phone, opened to a family photo, and handed her the phone. “This is us at a reunion this spring. All nineteen of us.”
Nineteen? She could barely fathom a family that size.
She studied the different faces—unique yet an unmistakable family connection in their shared love for each other.
The genuine joy between them reminded her of what she’d seen at King’s Inn with Emberly’s boyfriend Steinbeck’s family. Probably Emberly’s family too someday.
For just a moment, the deep desire to be part of a family like that bloomed to life again. She’d buried it the day she realized she’d brought the Bratva down on King’s Inn. But if she could give them what they wanted, get free…
He swiped to the next photo. “This is Luke and Hannah. Their oldest is Jimmy, then Asher, Joseph, and the youngest is Roman.”
She could almost hear Roman’s laughter through the image. Hannah was beautiful with long brown hair. “You and Luke look so much alike. Is he your twin?”
“Nope, that would be Logan.” He reached over and swiped to the next photo. She struggled to focus on the people and not his warmth radiating as he leaned toward her. She drew a slow breath, only to fill her lungs with his heady masculine scent.
“My fraternal twin. Older by four minutes.” He seemed completely unaffected by their proximity.
She blinked at the photo, pushing other thoughts away. She could see family resemblance, but Logan had a different look—more serious eyes. The woman next to him in the photo had long auburn hair, arms wrapped around a girl with a shy smile.
“That’s his fiancée, Devin, and the three kids they’re adopting—Easton, Alani, and Tyce.” He swiped again. “And this is my older sister, Libby, her husband, Austin, and their three girls—Rose, Sophie, and the baby is Daisy.”
She handed back the phone, drew a calming breath. “They all look sweet. I wish I could meet them.”
“Maybe someday you will.” He mumbled the words, ducking his head as he set the phone beside him. Maybe he hadn’t been as indifferent to their nearness as she’d thought.
He leaned back, rested his hand inches from hers on the rock. His warmth rolled off him, and despite the evening heat, something about him made her want to lean in. Was it Liam, or was she just tired of being alone?
He turned, met her gaze with those dangerous blue eyes.
Definitely Liam. His finger moved slightly, bumped against hers, sending a thread of awareness through her. Was that a question in his eyes?
“Nimue, what are you really—”
His phone’s shrill ring cut off the words. He sat up, lifted it, breaking their connection. He stared at Logan’s face on the call screen for a moment before accepting.
“Hey, can I call you back in—”
His brow wrinkled. Nimue drew a slow breath. Was he about to ask her what she was doing here? Or maybe what she really…what? Her heart hammered.
Maybe she was just reading into it. Maybe…
“You’re where?” His gaze met hers as a smile broke across his face. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. I’m…with a friend. I’ll ask her.”
A friend. Her mind tumbled the word over and over.
He pocketed the phone, stood, reached for her hand to help her up.
His grip was warm, solid, and after she stood, he held on. “Remember how you said you wanted to meet my nieces and nephews someday? How about today?”
“What?” She could nearly taste her heartbeat in her throat. A friend.
“Turns out they’re here in the campground to surprise me. They’re having a campfire and want me to invite you.”
“Oh, I don’t need to interrupt—”
“Are you kidding? If I don’t bring you, I’ll never hear the end of it. My mom’s a strong believer in always having room for one more. But if you don’t want…”
The uncertainty in his eyes gripped her. He really wanted her to go. Wanted her to meet his family. Wanted to keep this from ending.
Much to her surprise, so did she.
“Um. Yeah. I love campfires.”
He raised an eyebrow, and okay, she might be lying—except who didn’t love campfires?
But he smiled then and she did too.
“Good.”
And of course, his smile found a soft place inside and took root.
If she stuck to the campsite, avoided photos, it should be fine. After all, moments like these reminded her why she had to find Teresa. Why she had to get the Bratva off her trail. Why she needed her life back.
Or at least the life she so desperately wanted.