turned and looked after the taxi, tail wagging.
“Great legs, too. Not that I was looking.”
But he had looked. And at more than her legs, Walker thought. That lace thing from her suitcase had hit him right in the gut. What man wouldn’t fantasize about seeing a woman in something that lacy and sheer?
Walker rubbed his shoulder, which had begun to ache again. Too many long flights. Too little downtime.
He forced away the pain by habit and turned his mind back to the woman. She had long dark hair that curled over her shoulders. Green eyes that glinted when she got angry.
She seemed to get angry fast. He smiled at the way she had ripped into him when he’d said Arizona was too hot. No mincing words, she had stuck up for a place she loved. He liked that kind of loyalty.
Yet when she mentioned Arizona she had looked sad. Almost lost. She had touched her chest as if it hurt.
Broken relationship? Marriage called off?
Hell, it was none of his business. Too long between dates, Walker told himself.
Too long between anything at all. He’d have to do something about that one of these days.
Frowning, he rubbed his neck. He remembered how her face had flushed and how quickly she had sat down. She had recovered fast, at least. But was it because of dehydration or something more serious?
None of your business, Hale.
And right now he had work to do.
A whole mountain of work waited, back at his cabin. He had a new set of mission plans to review. After that he and Winslow had to work out half a dozen new drill scenarios.
The training would help U.S. troops using service dogs in hostile mountain terrain all over Afghanistan. Walker and Winslow were something of a legend in their work. Since his medical discharge from the marines, Walker was in high demand as a combat training consultant. He traveled for work, and coming home to the mountains was always a relief. Everything he needed or wanted was right here in this small town. Nothing would change that.
So he pushed Jilly O’Hara’s husky laugh and sexy underwear out of his mind, shouldered his heavy duffel bag and headed off to his Jeep with Winslow trotting alertly at his side.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE FIELDSTONE BUILDINGS of Lost Creek Resort hugged a valley between two peaks. Small cottages circled a rugged lodge and two guest wings. Jilly imagined how beautiful the tree-lined slopes would look blanketed in snow.
As the taxi drove up the winding road bordered by pines and aspens, she gave up trying to get Walker Hale out of her mind. “So … do you know that man at the airport?” she asked her driver casually. “The one with the dog. He’s a local?”
“Walker Hale? Sure. He’s been here awhile. He’s got a nice place up the mountain. Family’s had a place here for generations. His dog is real nice, too. Trained and everything. Heard both of ‘em were fighting over in Afghanistan.”
“The dog, too?”
The taxi driver nodded. “In the marines over there. Dog helped with security. Both got hit. Walker nearly got himself killed saving Winslow. Least that’s how I heard it.” The driver rounded a curve, and they cruised past low stone fences that framed the last of the year’s wildflowers.
Jilly soaked in the beauty while she processed the new information about Walker Hale and his dog. “Wow. I thought his dog looked smart.”
“He takes real good care of Winslow. Not too social though. He doesn’t come into town much except for food and coffee. We got a new coffee shop this year,” the driver said proudly. “You should stop in. They could use the business.”
“I may do that.” Jilly thought longingly of a frothy mocha latte with a dusting of cinnamon. But she had sworn to cut down on her caffeine, and she didn’t want to go back on her promise.
She didn’t confess that the real draw was encountering Walker—and his enchanting dog—again very soon.
HER ROOM—A SUITE ACTUALLY—was a cabin nestled in a grove of aspen trees. Their white trunks and dancing golden leaves made Jilly sigh in sheer delight. The rustic log design was peaceful and the clear mountain air seemed to calm her soul.
In her old, driven mode she would have rushed off to dig up every detail about her cooking classes the following day. But the new Jilly was determined to slow down and enjoy the scenery. Instead of fuming or worrying, she kicked off her shoes, opened the big French doors and wandered out to the stone patio overlooking the valley.
The view was drop-dead amazing, all green slopes and ridges above the distant valley and town lights. Someone had set out a plaid blanket on the big patio rocker. Jilly wrapped the thick wool around her shoulders, watching the sunset.
Not bad. This was almost peaceful.
Maybe she was getting the hang of this relaxation thing, after all.
A GUST OF COLD AIR SHOOK Jilly awake two hours later.
The sun had set, and the night sky was a soft purple lit by stars. Yawning, she stood up and stretched, then made her way inside to the living area. Bright rugs covered the walls, across from a fieldstone fireplace with distressed wood mantel.
Whoever designed the place had a real eye for color. With a yawn Jilly glanced at her watch and was stunned to see how late it was. No point in leaving her cabin tonight. She had her travel food and the little room refrigerator held plenty of drinks.
She drummed her fingers on the table and then dug out her cell phone.
Grace answered on the second ring, sounding breathless.
“Hey, is something wrong?” Jilly asked.
“I’m repainting the upstairs hallway. The electrician finished the rewiring and the new floors are done.”
“That’s great. What about that kitchen wall?”
“One more week. But forget about the renovation. How do you feel? What do you think of Lost Creek?”
“The town is pretty small. And the resort is definitely rustic.” Jilly studied the darkening purple sky. Was that a shooting star she had just seen? “But rustic in a good way. And the air up here is amazing. I feel great. I sat out on my porch and actually fell asleep. In fact I’m going to bed early. No point trying to check on my classes tonight.”
“That’s right. No need to rush,” Grace said quickly. “You can get all the, uh, details in the morning.”
“Is something wrong? You sound odd, Grace.”
“I’m just a little antsy because I want to finish up and then take a nice, long bath. I’ve got paint in my hair and under my fingernails. But Noah finally managed to get away. We’re meeting tomorrow in San Francisco.”
Jilly smiled at the excitement in her friend’s voice. “About time. The hunk will have eyes for only one thing and that’s your smiling face.” Jilly stretched her arms and yawned again. “As for me, I am totally dead on my feet. But I have to know how Duffy is doing. Is he eating okay? Did he get his exercise? Did he go to see Dr. Peter for his checkup?”
“Let’s take them in order. Duffy is doing great. He is eating like a horse. Or he would, if Caro let him. You should see Bogart and Bacall race around with Duffy up in the woods. Olivia is going to take him to her office, too. But you know our Livie. She’s a little afraid of dogs she doesn’t know well.”
“Wait,” Jilly cut in. “Olivia’s afraid of dogs? I didn’t know that. What happened?”
“Don’t know. She closes up like a clam when I ask. But Duffy is such a big teddy bear that she seems okay around him. Is that a full enough report?”
Jilly