by Nash, Willa
“How long have you been a cop?”
“Since I was eighteen. I hired on as a deputy for my predecessor, then was elected sheriff two years ago.”
“Impressive.”
Duke shrugged. “At the time, there were some who thought I was too young for the job, but no one else would step up to take it. We’ll see if they reelect me when my term is up. I’m only thirty-three and sheriffs in larger counties are generally older and have more experience. But I live in a small community.”
“Something tells me you prefer it that way.”
“You’d be right.”
“Do you want to be reelected?”
“Yes and no,” he admitted. “Some days, I love my job. Others, it’s a pain in the ass. Guess you could say that about any job though, right?”
“Yep.” I’d had the job most girls could only dream of, but dreams weren’t always what you imagined them to be, and when there were more bad days than good, it was time to walk away. “What would you do if you weren’t a cop?”
“Be a cop.” He laughed. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
For his sake, I hoped that didn’t change.
Because turning your back on your dream, giving it up, was heartbreaking.
We rounded a curve and the trail narrowed, forcing us closer. I slowed to get behind him, but Duke slowed too, keeping by my side. The roped muscles of his arm brushed against my bare skin. His knuckles grazed mine and I forgot to breathe.
When I looked up, those blue eyes were waiting.
Damn it, I should have picked Wyoming for my new home.
There was a spark between us, and I hadn’t felt a crush on a man in ages. Duke might just be that something unexpected I’d been wishing for.
But our time together was up.
Before I was ready to part ways with this handsome and kind stranger, a wooden sign greeted us on the trail with an arrow pointing toward the parking lot where we’d left my car—a black Range Rover I’d purchased the day Everly and I had arrived in Jackson, Wyoming.
I’d driven it through Yellowstone while she’d followed in her rental car. We’d left the rental at the trailhead where we’d started today’s adventure. Our plan was to camp out tonight and cross into Montana tomorrow.
Then Everly would head to the airport in Bozeman, where she’d catch a flight home to Nashville.
And I’d continue on to Calamity and start this next chapter of my life.
There were only a few vehicles in the parking lot as we emerged from the trail. The moment Everly spotted my SUV, she sighed. “We made it. Let’s never hike again. Though I am kind of sad I didn’t get to use my bear spray.”
Duke chuckled. “I’ve been pepper sprayed twice, once at the police academy and another time for a training exercise. Trust me when I say you don’t want to use those cans unless absolutely necessary.”
“Thanks for not being a serial killer.” Everly held out her hand to shake Duke’s. “And thanks for rescuing us.”
“No problem.” He waved as she turned and walked toward the SUV, fishing out the keys we’d put in her backpack.
I scanned the parking lot, taking note of the trees and the signs, looking anywhere but at Duke until it was time for the inevitable goodbye.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jade Morgan.” He extended his hand, and I slipped mine into his grip.
Tingles raced across my skin as the rough callouses on his palm scraped against my fingers. I met his gaze, soaking up the azure blue. “Take care, Duke.”
He inched closer, not letting go as I’d expected. Instead, he held my hand, tugging me in as his focus dropped to my lips. Like maybe he was thinking of kissing me.
Maybe I wanted him to.
But then he blinked, the moment broken, and the heat of his hand disappeared.
I plastered on a smile to mask the disappointment.
It was better this way, right? Cops asked questions and I doubted Duke would be satisfied with partial answers. Over the next year or two, I needed to keep my eye on the prize. At twenty-eight years old, I was building a new life. The smartest thing for me to do would be avoiding men, especially a hot sheriff who was in the public spotlight.
But after just hours with him, I knew I’d wonder about Duke. I’d wonder what might have been. He was fantasy fodder at its finest.
“Drive safe.” With a tip of his green baseball cap, he turned and walked toward a large white truck parked beneath a towering evergreen.
I stood, rooted in place, as he climbed in and drove away.
“Goodbye, Duke Evans.”
That really was a great name.
“I can’t believe you won’t be home when I get there.” Everly sniffled. “This weekend went way too fast.”
“But I’m glad we did it.”
She wiped away a tear. “Me too.”
The two of us looked human again after long showers and sleep in an actual bed. While camping out two nights with a long hike in between had been an experience neither of us would forget, I wasn’t in a hurry to see the inside of a tent again.
When we’d arrived at the Madison Campground after the hike, we’d been exhausted. Everly and I had barely mustered the energy to set up our tent and sleeping bags before we’d collapsed. The next morning, we’d woken up early, packed our things and hit the road. After collecting her rental car from the trailhead, we’d driven to West Yellowstone, where a hotel room and spa appointments had been waiting.
I’d soaked up one last day and night with my best friend before we’d come outside to say goodbye. Everly was driving to the airport.
I was heading to Calamity.
“Call me when you get home?” I asked.
She nodded. “I will. If you need anything at all, I’m just a plane ride away.”
I hugged her, squeezing tight. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too.”
My entire life, Everly had lived less than one block away from me. First as little girls riding bikes in our cul-de-sac. Then as women living together in Nashville for the past ten years. And now she’d be across the country, living her normal life, while I was moving to a new town, a new state and a new home, hoping to find a new dream.
Hoping to find that elusive peace.
“Thanks for this,” I said. “For the weekend. For coming out here with me. For keeping this a secret.”
“I hope it stays that way.” Her brown eyes filled with worry. “Are you sure about this?”
“No, but I have to try.”
“You know your secret is safe with me, but . . . at some point, someone is going to figure it out.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I sighed. “If I’m lucky, I can hide here forever.”
And if not . . .
The doubts weren’t going to stop me from trying.
“Just take care of yourself, okay?” She hugged me again. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” I stood beside my car, watching her get into hers and drive away. It wasn’t until her taillights disappeared down the highway that I finally unglued my feet.
And started my new beginning.
“Oh, hell.” I glanced at my watch and abandoned my lazy pace.
Maybe tomorrow I’d learn how not to be perpetually late. Today was clearly not that day.
As I scurried down the sidewalk, I sent my landlord a text apologizing for being late and promising to be there soon. Then I tucked my phone away, pinned my purse beneath an elbow and ran toward my Rover.
Mom had always teased me for getting lost in my own head and misplacing time. Dad had been the same way.
Except I hadn’t been lost in my head.
I’d been lost in Calamity.
Located in the heart of southwest Montana, my new hometown had charmed me instantly. Calamity was nestled in a mountain valley surrounded in all directions by towering indigo peaks. There wasn’t much to the town itself, as the internet had promised—I’d driven from one end to the other in les
s than five minutes.
But I didn’t need a sprawling metropolis. After an hour of walking up and down First Street, I’d realized the quaint rural setting suited me fine.
I’d instantly fallen in love with the easy pace. No one rushed down the sidewalks. People smiled as you passed them. In every store I’d explored today, the clerks had welcomed me to town and asked for my name.
My landlord had promised Calamity was a friendly place. She’d boasted about the stunning, short summers and sunny, albeit cold, winters. How everyone would be so happy to have a young, fresh face in their community. I’d thought she’d been blowing smoke up my ass just to get me to sign the lease agreement.
Calamity was everything she’d pledged and more.
Which was why I’d spent much too long exploring instead of meeting her on time to pick up the keys to my rental house.
Sweat beaded at my temples by the time I reached my car and hopped inside, rolling down the windows instead of using the air conditioning. Then I reversed out of my spot like my wheels were on fire and raced down the road.
The air whipped through my hair. The sun warmed my face. And the smile that stretched my mouth had staying power.
This is going to work. I felt it in my bones.
Calamity was located two hours from the nearest town of any size. It would be easy for me to hide here, living as Jade Morgan. In all my wandering, I hadn’t seen a flicker of recognition on anyone’s face.
According to my internet research, there were roughly two thousand people living in Calamity and the surrounding valley. I could convince two thousand people that I was a nobody, just a single woman, new to Calamity, who’d rented a two-bedroom home on the outskirts of town. I didn’t have to find a job because I was planning on telling everyone I worked from home. I’d pay cash whenever possible and simply blend in.
My foot pressed the accelerator as I glanced between the road and my GPS. In one mile, I’d take a left and in less than three minutes I’d be—
The wail of a siren filled my ears. Blue and red lights greeted me in the rearview mirror. My foot lifted off the gas pedal, but it was too late. As I slowed and veered for the shoulder, so did the imposing police truck behind me.
This was bad. This was really, really bad. “Shit. Why am I so stupid?”
My heart pounded as I came to a stop, shoving the Rover into park. With trembling hands, I reached for my purse in the passenger seat and rifled through it until I found my wallet.
Why couldn’t I have just been on time for once in my life? A speeding ticket my first day in Calamity was not blending in. And if my name ended up in the local police report, my stay here would be much, much shorter than planned.
The officer’s footsteps approached my door cautiously. Through the side mirror, I couldn’t get a good look at his face, but I didn’t miss the black gun on one hip and shining badge on the other.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted the second he was close enough to my open window to hear. “I was late and—” The words disappeared as I looked up and saw blue.
“Jade?”
I blinked. “Duke? What are you doing here? I thought you were from Wyoming.”
“I grew up in Wyoming, but I live in Calamity.” He shook his head, clearing the disbelief from his expression. Then his gaze narrowed and intensified. “License, registration and insurance, please.”
“Right.” I pretended like the sharp, impassive edge to his voice didn’t sting.
Maybe I’d misread that parting moment in the park. Maybe he’d just been a nice guy helping two tourists to their car, and the attraction here was one-sided.
My fingers fumbled with the plastic as I yanked my license out of my wallet, and I nearly dropped it as I handed it over.
“I’m sorry I was speeding.” Please, please don’t notice. I gave him my most innocent eyes, silently begging for him to hand me back my driver’s license and forget this whole thing.
No such luck.
Duke studied my license, his eyes flicking between me and the plastic card. Then his jaw clenched and he put both of his hands on the windowsill. “Ms. Morgan. Lajade, right? Or should I call you Lucy Ross? As in the famous country singer Lucy Ross.”
I cringed. “I can explain.”
“Yeah. I think you’d better start talking.”
“Sheriff Evans.” I gave him my sweetest smile. “What would you say to a bribe?”
Chapter Two
Duke
“I’d say no.” A bribe? What the hell?
Her smile vanished. “I had a feeling you’d say that. Shit.”
“What’s going on”—I looked at her license one more time, just making sure I’d read her name correctly—“Lucy?”
“I swear I can explain everything.”
“I’m waiting.”
Her emerald-green eyes flicked to the clock on the dash. “I’m late. That’s why I was speeding.”
Goddamn, I hated traffic stops. There was always an excuse. As a general rule, I didn’t bother with speeding tickets, leaving traffic for my deputies, but when I’d seen Lucy’s Range Rover racing down First like a rocket, I hadn’t been able to let that slide. It was early August and we had kids on summer break roaming freely.
“Late for what?” I asked.
“I’m supposed to meet my landlord.”
“You’re moving here?”
“Yep. I’m your newest constituent.”
Well, fuck. As the sheriff, I didn’t really need a famous singer in town, drawing attention to the quiet and simple life I worked hard to maintain. But as a man, it was hard not to keep my heart from beating a bit faster.
Lucy Ross.
How could I have missed this earlier? How could I have not seen the resemblance in Yellowstone?
Probably because I’d been too busy keeping my physical reaction in check. That, and the changes she’d made to her appearance were effective.
Her hair was nearly black. The dark strands suited the color of her creamy skin and the dusting of freckles on her nose. Gone was the blonde I’d seen on a tabloid magazine cover when I’d gone to get my hair trimmed at the barber last week. Lucy’s eye color was the real deal, but without the colorful eyeshadow and black liner, their shape seemed different. They were innocent and natural. Mesmerizing.
Seductive.
There was no flash in this version of Lucy. She was simply a raw beauty. Her nose was straight and slightly turned up at the end. Her lips were a soft peach color that matched the natural flush of her cheeks. Hell, even her ears were attractive with tiny points at the tips.
Especially without the enormous earrings she’d made famous as a Nashville country star.
But I couldn’t unsee the semblance now.
This was Lucy Ross without the glitz and glamour.
As a hot-blooded man, I preferred this version. As a sheriff, I was tempted to run her out of town. Having a celebrity here could only mean trouble, especially if the rumors about her were true.
I listened to the radio often while I was in my office doing paperwork or when I was driving around town. I preferred country to the rock and pop music these days, and the stations had been speculating for two weeks about Lucy.
She’s disappeared. Where? No one has a clue.
It must have something to do with her assistant’s death.
Her publicist released a statement today asking for privacy at this time. But no one has seen her.
Where is Lucy Ross?
She’d been hiding out in Wyoming and Montana, busy facing off against a herd of bison and getting lost with her friend in the wilderness. She’d fallen off the mainstream map and landed right in the middle of mine.
“Why are you here?”
“That’s a long story,” she muttered. “Are you going to give me a ticket?”
I handed her back her license. “Depends on this long story.”
“Please, please don’t give me a ticket,” she said. “I just . . . I’m here to disappear. Which,
if you take a bribe, will be a lot easier.”
I wasn’t taking a fucking bribe. What kind of man did she think I was? What kind of cop did she think I was? I had morals, for fuck’s sake.
“Please, Duke. I just want to blend in. I’ll be hanging out at my house. You’ll never even know I’m in town. Just don’t give me a speeding ticket.”
Blend in? Ha.
Her appearance, her car, screamed tourist. Lucy would stand out in Calamity like a lightning bolt streaking through a midnight sky.
A car drove past us in the opposite direction and she shielded her face with her hand.
The side of the road wasn’t the place to have a drawn-out conversation about her disappearance. It would only bring more attention to her because my truck, like her Rover, wasn’t exactly subtle.
“Where are you meeting your landlord?” I asked.
“At the house.”
I nodded and pushed off the side of her door. “Lead the way.”
“But . . .” She looked forward, then back at me. Then forward again, down the road like it was to freedom.
If she decided to tear out of here and leave me in her rearview, I wouldn’t stop her.
“What’s it gonna be, Ms. Ross?”
She put both her hands on the wheel and muttered, “Okay.”
I turned and strode to my truck, climbing inside and shutting off the flashing lights. I buckled up and waited. Seconds passed, enough to equal a minute. Then two. For a woman in a hurry, she was taking her sweet time. Finally, her taillight blinked yellow and she eased onto the road.
Following her down the highway was painful. She drove five miles per hour under the speed limit. I rolled my eyes, stifling a string of muttered curses, and called into the station.
“Hey, Carla,” I said when my deputy and lead dispatcher answered.
“Hi, Duke. What’s up?”
“I’m not going to be in for a while, so if you need anything or something comes up, give me a call.”
“Will do.” Had I been there, she would have given me her standard mock salute.