Chapter 7
Taylor
Taylor was halfway through reorganizing the pastry case for the afternoon rush when the café bell chimed. She glanced up, already rehearsing a greeting, but the words stuck in her throat.
Ryan Carter leaned against the counter with that infuriatingly calm smile, like he hadn’t thrown down a gauntlet in front of her entire extended family two nights ago. He was dressed in hiking boots, cargo pants, and a flannel rolled at the sleeves, a backpack slung easily over one shoulder.
Her heart gave a traitorous kick.
“You’re late,” she said, mostly to cover the way her palms went damp.
“It’s noon exactly,” he replied, glancing at the clock behind her. “And you’re stalling.”
She huffed. “I wasn’t stalling. I was working.”
Ryan tipped his head toward the door. “You ready?”
Taylor grabbed her jacket, feeling both cornered and oddly relieved. The truth was she had been thinking about this hike all morning, nerves tangling with a fizz of excitement she refused to admit aloud. “Fine. Let’s go.”
The drive to the mountains took less than twenty minutes, but every second stretched.
Ryan’s truck smelled faintly of leather and pine, and the hum of the engine filled the space between them.
She stared out the window at the bare February trees whipping past, determined not to notice the way his hand rested casually on the gearshift, strong and steady.
“So,” he said after a while, “any theories on your secret admirer?”
Taylor crossed her arms. “Plenty. All of them bad.”
“Bad how?”
“Like maybe it’s a prank. Or maybe it’s someone who doesn’t actually know me at all and just got lucky with the clues.”
Ryan glanced at her, amused. “That’s what you’re going with? A lucky stalker?”
“I didn’t say stalker.”
“You thought it.” His grin tugged at her. “I still say I’m right. This is someone who knows you well. Too well. An unhinged stalker who has finally made his move.”
She bristled. “You are not helping.”
“Look, I don’t mean to ruin the romance, but I’ve seen too many situations where women get tricked by someone who pays a little too much attention.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, though her chest pinched at the seriousness in his tone. “You really can’t let yourself enjoy a mystery, can you?”
He shot her a sidelong look. “Not when it involves you heading into the woods alone with a stranger waiting.”
Her cheeks warmed, though she fought to keep her voice breezy. “So that’s why you packed half a sporting goods store?”
Ryan smirked but didn’t answer, and she bit back a laugh.
By the time they pulled into the trailhead parking lot, the air had shifted, crisp and tinged with evergreen.
Taylor inhaled deeply, nerves settling a little.
She had come up here dozens of times over the years, sometimes with Emma, sometimes by herself.
The lookout point had always been her place to breathe, to write in her journal without anyone looking over her shoulder.
She wasn’t prepared for how it felt to climb out of the truck and see Ryan already pulling a backpack onto his shoulders, steady and capable, like he belonged here as much as she did.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said as he handed her a walking stick he’d apparently stashed in the back.
“You’ll thank me when the trail gets icy,” he said.
She took it, muttering under her breath. “Bossy.”
“Prepared,” he corrected. His eyes glinted. “Big difference.”
The hike started in silence, their boots crunching over gravel and leaves.
The bare branches overhead let winter sunlight spill onto the path, flickering across Ryan’s broad shoulders.
Taylor tried not to notice. Tried not to let her gaze linger on the easy way he moved, like every step was second nature.
“You used to drag Emma and me up here every summer,” he said after a while, voice thoughtful.
Taylor smiled despite herself. “She complained the whole way. You bribed her with granola bars.”
“I bribed you too,” he reminded her. “You nearly fainted from heat exhaustion once.”
“Dramatic,” she said, laughing. “I was fine.”
“You were twelve. You got halfway up and declared yourself a martyr.”
Taylor’s laughter echoed through the trees, bright and sharp. She covered her mouth, but it kept spilling out. “I did not.”
“You did,” he said, grinning. “I carried your bag the rest of the way while you lectured me about how unfair life was.”
Taylor shook her head, smiling as warmth spread through her chest. She had forgotten that day, but now the memory tugged at her, vivid and bittersweet. Ryan had always been there, teasing but steady, the one who made sure she and Emma didn’t roll down the mountain or forget their water bottles.
They walked for a while in companionable silence, the kind that felt like slipping back into an old rhythm.
Taylor let her gaze wander up through the trees, where the sky stretched pale blue.
She thought about the note folded in her pocket, the promise of something waiting at the top, and her stomach fluttered.
“You’re quiet,” Ryan said, glancing at her.
She shrugged. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About who could possibly think leading me on a scavenger hunt was a good idea.”
His mouth quirked. “Seems to be working.”
Taylor narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re smiling.”
She quickly wiped the smile off her face, heat prickling her neck. “I am not.”
“Sure,” he said, but the grin tugging at his mouth betrayed his amusement.
The trail steepened, and they fell into a rhythm of breath and movement.
Taylor’s legs burned, but she refused to complain.
If Ryan noticed, he didn’t comment, though at one point he reached out and steadied her elbow when her boot slipped on a patch of ice.
The touch sent a jolt through her, and she pulled away quickly, muttering thanks.
Taylor’s legs were burning by the time they crested the last incline, but she kept her pace even, determined not to give Ryan the satisfaction of hearing her huff and puff. He hadn’t broken a sweat, which was both irritating and unfair.
The trees opened suddenly, and there it was: her lookout point. The valley spread wide and endless beneath them, streaks of silver water winding between bare trees, the horizon layered in shades of blue and gray. Even in February, it felt timeless, like the mountains were holding their breath.
Taylor slowed, chest aching for reasons that had nothing to do with the climb. She’d always come here when she needed quiet. It was her place to breathe, her place to write when the world felt too heavy. Now she was sharing it, not with her admirer, but with Ryan.
“Well,” Ryan said, scanning the area, “let’s see what your mystery man left for you this time.”
Taylor moved to the old wooden bench. Her fingers trembled as she reached underneath, half-expecting to find nothing. But there it was: a note taped neatly to the underside, a small velvet pouch tied to it with string.
Her heart kicked. She pulled it free and sat on the bench, unfolding the paper.
“Even the strongest roots need a reminder of how far they’ve come. Carry this with you, and remember you’re braver than you believe.”
Taylor untied the pouch. Inside was a smooth river stone, polished until it gleamed, with a tiny star carved into the surface. She traced the etched lines with her thumb, a lump forming in her throat.
“It’s a perfect skipping stone,” she said. “I always complained I couldn’t find the right one, and Emma always told me I was just being a poor sport because I couldn’t skip my rock as far as you guys could.” Taylor let out a chuckle.
“What’s with the star on it?” Ryan asked.
“The north star. Remember how I always talked about true north and argued that your stupid compass was broken?”
Ryan chuckled. “You got lost all the time out here and always blamed it on that compass.”
He stuck out his hand, and she handed him the stone. He analyzed it, turning it over. Then he scanned the tree line with sharp, assessing eyes.
Taylor frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for him to make his appearance,” Ryan said flatly. “Besides, who gives a girl a rock, anyway?”
She blinked. “You’re ruining this beautiful moment for me.”
His gaze swept the shadows, shoulders tense. “If he knows your routines this well, he could be watching. And if he’s smart enough to plan this whole hunt, he’s smart enough to keep his distance until he sees how you react.”
Taylor laughed, but it came out a little shaky. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t hiding behind a tree with binoculars.”
Ryan glanced at her, expression dead serious. “You don’t know that.”
She sighed, tucking the stone into her pocket. “And here I thought you were going to let me enjoy this without turning it into a criminal investigation.”
“Better safe than sorry,” he said, sitting back down. He met her eyes, and the edge of humor finally slipped in. “Well, looks like I scared the stalker off. Guess it’s safe enough to eat lunch.”
Taylor’s lips twitched. “Lunch?”
Ryan shrugged off his pack, pulling out a folded blanket, foil-wrapped sandwiches, and a thermos. “What? You thought I’d drag you up here without food?”
She blinked, caught between laughter and disbelief. “You’re unbelievable. You didn’t drag me up here. I dragged you.”
“And look who came prepared,” he said, laying out the sandwiches.
Taylor shook her head, but when he handed her one of the warm foil packets, she took it. The bread was crusty, the cheese melted, the kind of simple comfort that tasted like heaven after a climb.
For a while, they ate in silence, gazes drifting out over the valley. The wind tugged at her hair, and Ryan poured hot chocolate from the thermos, passing her a steaming cup.
“Remember when Emma pretended she was going to run away to these mountains?” Taylor said finally, her voice lighter. “She packed a duffel with Pop-Tarts and comic books and made it as far as your front yard.”
Ryan laughed, a low rumble in his chest. “She was seven. She thought she could survive on sugar and Spider-Man.”
“She would’ve tried,” Taylor said, smiling.
He leaned back on the bench, stretching his long legs out. “You followed her everywhere back then.”
“She’s my best friend,” Taylor said.
“And you’re hers,” Ryan said quietly.
Taylor glanced at him, caught by the warmth in his voice. For a moment, neither of them looked away. Then Ryan cleared his throat, breaking the spell.
“Do you remember when you brought that notebook up here and wouldn’t let either of us read it?” he asked.
Her cheeks warmed. “I was twelve.”
“You glared at me like I’d asked for state secrets.”
Taylor laughed, shaking her head. “I still have that notebook. It’s terrible.”
“Bet it isn’t,” Ryan said, sipping his hot chocolate. “What was in it?”
Her stomach flipped. She could still picture the cover: pink and glittery with a broken spiral binding, pages stuffed with ink-blotted hearts and overwrought dialogue. A story that was half-fantasy, half wish-fulfillment. A story about a girl who got swept away by a boy who looked a lot like him.
Absolutely not. He could never know.
Taylor forced a shrug. “Just stories. Nothing special.”
“Come on.” His eyes narrowed, amused. “You’re still deflecting. If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be acting like I just asked for nuclear codes.”
Heat crawled up her neck. “Maybe I was writing about unicorns.”
“Unicorns, huh?” His grin widened. “That explains the death glare when I tried to peek. You were protecting state secrets about rainbow horses.”
“Exactly.” She lifted her chin, daring him to challenge it.
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “You were always dramatic.”
Taylor managed a laugh, though her pulse still raced. Dramatic was safer than the truth. If he ever found out she’d filled pages dreaming about him older, unattainable, infuriatingly handsome Ryan Carter, she would never live it down.
He leaned back on the bench, still smirking. “One day you’ll tell me.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered, taking another sip.
But even as she tried to steer the conversation away, the star-carved stone in her pocket felt heavier, like it knew she was lying.