Chapter 3
Leah
The gate was locked.
I stood there rattling it feebly, my fingers wrapped around the cold metal bars.
The sign right next to it clearly stated that the gate locked at dusk, and technically it was still dusk, wasn’t it?
The sky wasn’t fully dark yet. There was still a pale glow on the horizon, a soft lavender that was rapidly fading to deep purple, but it wasn’t night.
“This is fine,” I said out loud, because apparently I was the kind of person who talked to herself now. “This is totally fine.”
I pulled out my phone.
No signal.
Not even a single bar showed when I held it up toward the sky like some kind of technological offering to the wilderness gods.
Well, shoot. That was my whole escape plan.
There was an emergency phone mounted on a post near the gate, one of those old yellow boxes with a receiver inside. I grabbed it and pressed it to my ear, but there was nothing.
No dial tone, no static, just dead silence. I jabbed at the buttons anyway, hoping something would happen, but the phone was as lifeless as my cell.
The light mist that had been settling over the parking lot shifted, and a fat, cold raindrop landed on my cheek. Then another. Then three more in quick succession.
Okay. Don’t panic.
But fear had already started crawling up my throat as I looked around the empty parking lot.
Other than an old, rusty pickup truck, my rental car sat alone in the lot, still visible in the gathering darkness. The forest that had seemed so breathtakingly beautiful just a few hours ago now felt oppressive and watchful, the trees pressing in on all sides as if they were waiting for something.
Were there wild animals out here? Wolves? Mountain lions?
There were definitely bears here.
I’d seen an educational sign about black bears at the trailhead, but I’d been too busy thinking about Colin and my stupid job to pay attention to the safety warnings.
Then I realized with horror that the real danger tonight might not be wild critters creeping through the woods. It might be the cold.
It wasn’t supposed to drop below freezing tonight, but I seemed to remember the weather forecast said it would be in the forties.
Turning back to the gate, I gave it one more weak rattle, as if shaking the bars would magically unlock it. Then I instantly started making a to-do list in my head. It always helped calm me down.
Step 1. Don’t panic.
Step 2. Get out of the rain.
Step 3. Don’t panic.
Step 4. Assess the situation.
I’m going to have to sleep in my car.
The thought made my stomach turn. A whole night out here alone, in the dark, with whatever was lurking in those woods.
But this wasn’t a scary movie. This was real life. I’d be uncomfortable and maybe a little scared, but dawn would come like it always did, and then I’d drive out of here with a wild story to tell my friends.
I wasn’t well equipped to spend the night in my rental car. I was only wearing a light cotton sweater and leggings. Not exactly wilderness survival gear.
Surely I wouldn’t die from the cold, though, right? And I had half a tank of gas. I could turn on the heat whenever I got too chilly to help warm up.
A branch snapped somewhere behind me.
I shrieked, spinning around with my hands raised valiantly to fight off the pack of wild bears that were surely circling me by now.
My heart slammed in my chest, and I wielded my cell phone like a weapon.
But it wasn’t a predator.
It was him.
Mr. Mountain Hottie.
The cryptic chainsaw man from earlier on the trail emerged from the treeline, and he looked like something out of a movie.
But a good kind of movie, not a scary one. He’d play the hero with those thick muscles and his striking blue eyes.
He’d managed to put on his sweater, which made him look halfway civilized, and his eyes sparked as he spotted me, as though he were just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.
Sawdust clung to him, along with a few errant leaves, and he carried the chainsaw in one hand like it weighed nothing at all.
His stride was confident as he crossed the gravel parking lot, and when he spotted me standing there with my hand still raised like a startled cartoon character, one corner of his mouth twitched upward.
Relief flooded through me. He’d be able to let me out.
“You okay?” he rumbled.
His voice sounded like gravel, and it did something to my insides that I absolutely did not have time to examine right now.
My cheeks flushed hot despite the cool mist in the air. “The gate’s locked.”
He looked past me at the metal barrier, then back at me. “Huh.”
“I thought it locked at dusk.” I gestured helplessly at the sky. “It’s still dusk. Mostly. I mean, it was dusk when I got here, and the sign said dusk, so I assumed…”
When he didn’t say anything in response, I added, “I’m sorry I stayed too late, but would you mind unlocking the gate?” I was rambling, so I clamped my mouth shut.
His blue eyes met mine, steady and apologetic. “Sorry, hon. I don’t work here.”
“You don’t? But…” I gestured to the chainsaw in his hands. He certainly looked like he worked here.
He took a few steps closer, “Naw. I was just doing some trail maintenance as a volunteer.”
“Oh.” The word came out small and deflated. “Oh no. Does that mean we’re both locked in?”
“Naw. Tucker must have locked up early because of the storm rolling in. I’ll call him and tell him to get his ass back here to let us out.”
Well, Mr. Mountain Hottie didn’t seem too worked up over the locked gate.
And I was glad he was here. I didn’t usually rely on men to get me out of a bind, but right now I sure was happy to lean into the damsel in distress vibe and let someone else figure this mess out.
He set the chainsaw down and pulled his phone from his pocket, clicking buttons while he frowned at the screen. “What the fuck? There’s no signal.”
“I know. I tried. The emergency phone is dead too.” I wrapped my arms around myself as another cold raindrop slid down the back of my neck.
“There’s always cell reception out here,” he growled at his phone.
He put it away and rubbed the back of his neck. “There was a big lightning strike last night. You probably heard it. I think the whole town did. It might have knocked out a cell tower.”
He studied me for a moment, then looked back at the gate before confidently announcing. “We can climb over the gate and walk down the road together until we get a cell signal. I’ve got friends who can come pick us up.”
I followed his gaze to the gate.
It had to be at least ten feet tall, made of thick metal bars, and it was flanked on either side by rock outcroppings. It looked like the entrance to the park had been blasted out of the mountainside. There was no way around it. The only way through was over it.
“I can’t climb that.”
“It’s easier than it looks. Here, I’ll show you,” he said gruffly as he put his chainsaw and a small backpack down on the ground, then walked over to the gate and grabbed one of the bars, climbing it as if it were nothing.
His boots found purchase on the horizontal crossbars, and his arms flexed as he pulled himself up with smooth, efficient movements. The sweater stretched across his broad shoulders, and I could see the muscles in his back working as he ascended.
He made it look effortless, like his body was built for exactly this kind of thing, and when he reached the top, he swung one leg over and looked down at me with an expectant expression.
“See? Easy. Your turn, hon,” he rumbled. “Just follow the same path I took.”
“Easy for you, maybe.” I shook my head, acutely aware of my soft body and lack of muscles. “I’ll fall and break my neck.”
I’d never been good at climbing, even when I was younger.
He came back down as gracefully as he’d gone up, dropping the last few feet and landing in a crouch before straightening again.
Then he pointed at the lowest crossbar as fat raindrops started to fall. “First foothold goes here. You grab here and here, then just pull yourself up one bar at a time. I can stay under you as a spotter. You’ll be safe. I promise.”
While I wanted to believe this mysterious stranger who’d somehow catapulted straight into my life, I knew my limitations better than he did.
“No,” the word came out more forcefully than I intended. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t.”
He studied me, and I waited for the thinly veiled exasperation that Colin always defaulted to when I couldn’t do something he found easy.
But it didn’t come. Instead, his expression softened into something that looked almost like understanding.
“That’s okay. Uh, well, a new plan then. I’ll climb out and go get help,” he offered. “You should get cozy in your car until I come back.”
He glanced up at the night sky that was now spitting rain down on us randomly.
A couple hours. Alone. In the dark. With the rain picking up and the forest pressing in and whatever was out there watching from the shadows.
Anxiety flared through me, and I took an involuntary step toward him, stopping just short of clutching at his sweater in a panic. “Please don’t leave me here.”
The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I hated how desperate they sounded. I was a grown-ass woman. But I was also completely out of my element. “I know that’s ridiculous, but I really don’t want to be alone out here.”
“It won’t take more than an hour or two.”
But I shook my head and begged, “Please?”
He was quiet for a long moment, curiously searching my face. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he seemed to find it.
“Okay,” he nodded once. “I won’t leave you here.”
The relief that flooded through me was so intense it made my knees weak. “Thank you. I’ll just sleep in my car. I’ll be fine, I just didn’t want to be alone.”
But he shook his head. “Naw. You can’t sleep in your car. The temperature’s going to drop into the forties tonight, maybe lower with the rain. You’ll get too cold after you run all the gas out of your car.”
The reality of this situation was starting to dawn on me. I stared up at the top of the gate, reconsidering. “Maybe I can try.”
“Sure, that’s a good plan. Let’s try.” He motioned to the first bar on the gate, “Put your foot here, Leah.”
He remembered my name.
That put a happy little thrill in my heart. Even if he still hadn’t told me his.
I did as he asked, clutching the vertical bars while I stepped up onto the first horizontal rail on the gate.
It shook a little, and he put his hands on my hips to steady me.
“You got it. Good girl. Now reach here,” he rumbled.
“You’re good at this. You could be a teacher.”
A tiny laugh grunted out of him. “I kind of am. But not a fence-climbing teacher.”
“What kind of teacher are you, mystery man?” I asked as I hung from the gate, clutching it with all my strength, terrified to go higher.
“Oh, uh. I take tourists like you out on wilderness tours. I’m Jameson, by the way. Are you ready to take the next step?”
I was hanging on the gate, terrified to go higher, but with his calm voice guiding me, I found the courage to put my foot up on the next crossbar.
Then I pushed up. I was four feet off the ground now, remembering why I didn’t like to climb ladders when panic set in.
“Uh, nice to meet you, Jameson. I might be a little afraid of heights. I don’t think I can do this.”
But his voice was right behind me, strong and steady, lending me confidence. “I bet you can if you really want to. But it’s okay if you don’t. You’re in charge, hon. You see the next crossbar, right?”
A tiny squeak escaped out of my mouth as I tried to pull myself up. I reached for it, scrabbling for purchase, then just as I lifted myself up, I started to slip.
As I fell, a loud squawk of shock burst out of me.
But I didn’t hit the rough pavement below, no. I landed in some very strong, muscular arms. The scent of sawdust and forest mysteries landed in my nose, and I realized I was smelling him. He was spicy and smoky, and a little bit wild.
“It’s okay, Leah. I got you. Are you all right?”
My heart was fluttering nervously in my chest, both from the effort of trying to climb the gate and from the shock of falling.
Surely it wasn’t Jameson making my heart flip upside down, was it?
I was breathing hard as he let go of me, and I leaned back against him, not ready for my support system to disappear just yet.
Tentatively, he re-wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Are you sure you’re okay, Leah? It was just a tiny tumble. We can try again when you’re ready.”
I turned to face him, and he dropped his arms quickly. “I’m never going to make it over that fence. I’m sorry. I’m an extremely capable woman, but I have a mild fear of heights and…”
It felt strange confiding in someone I didn’t know, but then the words tumbled out of my mouth, anyway.
“When I was eight, I was playing with a friend out on their balcony. The railing was old and not very steady anymore. We were just goofing around and they pushed me into the railing,” I paused as the memory of that day flooded in, “and the wood gave out. I-I started to fall but their dad caught me at the last second. I was dangling down with nothing but him holding me up, and I’ve never been able to handle heights since then. ”
The experience had marked me, whether I understood it at the time or not. I’d never forgotten what it was like dangling weightless, staring at the ground one story below, certain that I was about to die.
“Don’t be sorry.” He eyed me carefully, the formidable expression on his face softening slightly.
“I tell you what. We’re on Plan C now. There’s a historical display cabin about a mile back down the trail.
” He picked up his chainsaw and nodded toward the trees.
“It’s got a fireplace and bear pelts. It’s primitive, but we can stay warm there for the night. ”
I stared at him, this stranger with steady blue eyes, and realized I was about to spend the night in a cabin in the woods with a man I didn’t even know.
What the hell am I doing?
But I didn’t exactly have a choice. I had to put my trust in him.