was a complete and utter fabrication, but she’d told the story so many times that it sounded true. It was just detailed enough that it didn’t cause additional questions and just vague enough that it was instantly forgettable.
“How did you end up here, in the middle of nowhere, building a log cabin with your bare hands?”
“I was sixteen and wandering around the streets of Seattle during the summer, bored with my life, and came across a production company. They were filming a movie and I asked if they might have a job for me, and they did. I was an outstanding coffee fetcher. After that, I was hooked. I worked a few more local productions and built up a decent résumé. When I graduated from high school, I took a bus to LA and found better work. I went to college when I could, and I’ve been on some kind of TV or movie production set ever since. I pitched this series after I reread one of your grandmother’s books. The producers asked if I wanted to be in front of the camera and I said yes.”
It was a simple enough explanation and one she’d given to almost everyone she’d met over the course of the past year. This part of the story was entirely true, though she’d left out a few major details. But the real truth would probably come out when the show was broadcast. Someone would recognize her and reveal the truth about her past.
The world would find out that her father had gone to prison when she was seven and her mother had died of a drug overdose when she was five. They’d know about the foster homes and the constant running away, living on the streets when she was fourteen and searching for any way to make a few dollars to feed herself. She’d been one of the lucky ones. She’d been smart and resourceful. And she’d always been a credible liar.
“So you came here because of Trudie?”
“Yeah. She was such a strong woman and wanted to experience life on her own terms, stripped down, simple. I remember reading her book about building the cabin and how she lived off the grid. I was always fascinated by that concept of creating a life for yourself out of nothing but your own two hands.”
“I wish you could have met her.”
“Me, too. But you can tell me about her.” She took another sip of her coffee. “Now that you’ve finished interrogating me, why don’t you show me what you brought?”
Eli turned to his pack and the first thing he pulled out was a pair of deerskin gloves. He held them out to her. “These should fit a bit better than what you’ve been wearing. You won’t get so many blisters.”
She stared down at the gloves and a flood of emotion washed over her—he’d remembered. For the first time in her life, she felt as if someone was listening to her. He’d done her a great kindness. That kind of thing rarely happened in her life. And now, he’d done it twice—first, the coffee and now the gloves.
Was this the beginning of a friendship...or a passionate affair? Lucy wasn’t sure which one she wanted more, but she had no idea how to handle either.
* * *
“TELL ME EVERYTHING you know about bears.”
“Why are you so obsessed with bears?” Lucy asked.
“Because they are an always-present danger up here once the snow melts. If it were winter, I’d be obsessed with hypothermia.”
They walked through the meadow together toward the tree line, their rifles slung over their shoulders, Riley trotting beside them. Eli had decided that if she wouldn’t take advice about cabin building and food foraging, he was going to make damn sure she kept herself safe. And for the next couple of months, the biggest threat in this part of the mountains was the bears.
“I know to carry my gun at all times. I’ve been practicing on the targets almost every day. I know that I’ll probably only have time for one shot and if it’s not good, the bear will probably eat me for dinner. Avoidance is the best strategy.”
“Excellent. Anything else?”
“Keep Riley and all food locked up in the cabin when I’m not around. Hungry bears are dangerous. Mother bears with their cubs are the most dangerous. Black bears are usually afraid of humans, grizzlies are more aggressive.”
“And what if a bear does charge?” he asked.
“With a grizzly, you drop to the ground and curl up and protect your neck and head. Basically play dead. With a black bear, you run or fight back as hard as you can. You make noise, throw rocks, hit him with sticks.”
He nodded. “All right. There’s not much chance you’ll run into a grizzly around here. They range farther north. But I will give you this.” He pulled a can out of his pocket. “Bear pepper spray. A temporarily blinded bear is much better than a wounded bear.” He reached down and clipped it to her jeans. “If you can’t get a shot off or if you just wound him, use the spray and run like hell.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Just don’t use that on me the next time I try to kiss you,” he teased.
“Are you planning to kiss me again?” she asked.
There was the question, Eli mused. After their first kiss, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his next excuse to kiss her again. There was no use trying to ignore the attraction. Now that he knew it was mutual, Eli didn’t see any reason to keep his hands—or his lips—to himself.
It might have been different if it had really been a month since he’d last seen her. But Eli had hiked up to the meadow once a week just to make sure she was all right. At first, he’d tried to convince himself he was just checking on the cabin. Then, he’d convinced himself that the production company should have specified weekly visits and he was correcting their error.
But as he’d sat on the edge of the meadow, hidden by the brush, and saw her work on the cabin or practice her shooting, he realized that he just needed to know that she was safe. Lucy wasn’t like his mother or grandmother. She was a city girl, and he’d glimpsed a vulnerability in her that he couldn’t ignore. He’d witnessed it again and again over the years—amateurs who traveled to remote locations convinced they were prepared, but who ended up sick or injured. Even his father, an experienced climber, had made one mistake and had never come down the mountain. He wouldn’t let that happen to Lucy. It had become his duty to protect her and one he would never shirk.
Last week, Riley had caught his scent and he’d had to run to avoid being discovered. And it was always difficult to walk away. He’d considered just hiking to the cabin and making up some excuse for his presence. But Eli knew better. When it came to Lucy, it was best to follow the rules—or the guidelines.
They walked along a familiar ridgeline, then dropped down to hike a narrow creek bed. It had been years since Eli had explored this part of his grandmother’s world, but the landmarks he’d used were still deeply etched in his memory.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Haven’t you been paying attention?”
“No, I was following you.”
He reached back and grabbed his water bottle, then took a long drink before holding it out to her. “I guess we’re lost then.”
Her eyes went wide. “How could we be lost? I assumed you knew where you were going.” She stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head. “Oh, I get it. This is another lesson from Captain Safety.”
“Maybe you should get out that video camera of yours. This is important stuff.”
She slipped her pack off her shoulder and set it at her feet, then removed the camera. “I’m not going to be able to use this footage,” she said.
“No, but you can watch it when I’m gone.”
Lucy trained the lens on him. “Then take off your shirt,” she teased, focusing on the broad expanse of his chest. “It will make the video much more interesting.”
“I’m