by Jill Snow
How had he repaid her? He’d been a jerk to her. He’d cut her out of his life. And still, she called, ready to forgive him at a moment’s notice.
He was an idiot, but maybe not as much of one as he’d thought. Not everyone was out for his money.
He turned, striding back in the direction he’d walked, toward the cabins. The wind rustled the tree branches. A scattered cool raindrop flicked against his skin. When he dug his phone out of his pocket, he still saw that he had no signal. He couldn’t call and apologize to his sister for the jerk he’d been.
But there was someone much closer he might owe an apology to instead.
He’d been so busy trying to protect his heart, that it had colored his perception of everything around him and made him just assume everyone’s intent was to use him. But now thinking back, he realized the email he’d seen on Lily’s computer hadn’t been from her. It had been to her. And, although he’d barely glanced at the date, it certainly wasn’t from weeks ago. The computer chair had been askew, the laptop left there open to the email. A woman as prideful of her work like Lily didn’t do that. Which confirmed the conclusion Ethan was slowly growing in the back of his mind.
Lily couldn’t have known who he was before she’d come to this isolated campground. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with him when they’d first met. In fact, she’d requested to be moved to a different cabin. Lily Ryder had a different reason to be here than to sink her hooks into Ethan Thomas, Billionaire Recluse. But instead, he’d reduced her to the same petty standard he’d reduced the rest of the world.
For no good reason. His inclination to invest in a local newspaper? That had been his idea. He hadn’t even voiced it aloud to her! No, he’d let her think that he didn’t have a dime to his name and was working for Ruby to fix up the campground. Although more than once he’d wanted to reveal the truth, if it had come out, he’d been afraid she would be angry with him. That she’d cut ties with him. Subconsciously, he had known that she wasn’t a gold digger. He just hadn’t let his heart tell the truth to his head.
Now, he might have lost his chance to come clean. The computer chair in that haphazard state, the laptop left open and behind, it spoke to one thing—she’d just learned the truth. She’d probably rushed out, mad over his betrayal. He could only imagine what she thought of him.
He had to apologize.
Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. The figure of a man walking along the northeast hiking trail. He wasn’t skulking or running. Ethan told himself that this was a normal occurrence. After all, the trails were open for anyone, including the locals even if no one had taken advantage of that fact while he’d been here. And with a storm on its way? They were probably hurrying for the closest place to where they left their car, not necessarily in Ruby’s parking lot.
Although the hairs on the back of his neck rose, dredging up the memory of the last figure in the woods he’d seen lurking at night outside Lily’s cabin, he ignored the sensation. It was broad daylight—well, aside from the brewing storm clouds. The saboteur wouldn’t be hiking the trails where anyone would be able to identify him. Thus far, he’d snuck on and off Ruby’s property under the cover of darkness without raising suspicions other than that of Wookie last night.
Although Wookie was sure to be with Lily, able to protect her, Ethan quickened his pace. He made his way to a trail and made even faster time in reaching Lily’s cabin. He had to apologize to her, ask her for the chance to explain himself.
And if he was nearby to keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe, all the better.
Chapter 20
The trepidation stewing inside him reached its peak potency as he got to Lily’s cabin. He didn’t spot any lights inside, nor did Wookie run up to see him. But if Lily was inside, her dog would be to, she didn’t let Wookie wander outside on her own. He knocked on the door, waiting for her to open. It remained silent. She was in there, wasn’t she? Her SUV was still parked out front, so she hadn’t left the campground after learning his identity. There might still be hope for them.
“Lily?” he called. No answer.
He strained his ears, but over the growing roar of the wind, he probably wouldn’t hear if Wookie whimpered or rustled on the other side of the door.
She was ignoring him. He couldn’t blame her. She probably never wanted to talk to him again.
He raised his voice, determined that Lily would hear what he had to say. “Lily, I know you’re mad. I would be too, if I were in your shoes. But please, listen to me. I should have told you about all this earlier.”
No answer from inside, but he took that as encouragement. At least she wasn’t yelling at him to go away, which seemed more like her given the way they’d started.
“I should have told you that I don’t really work for Ruby, that I don’t have to work at all if I don’t want to. But I liked you seeing me like a regular guy instead of a man with a price tag. These past few days, I’ve been happier than I can remember. I really like you and I’d like to see where this goes between us. Can you open the door so we can start again?”
“What are you doing yelling at a door?”
Ethan jumped. He hadn’t heard Ruby come up behind him. When he turned, the small old woman was dressed in a raincoat and carrying Lily’s now-closed laptop. She must not have returned to the lodge then, which was the next place he was going to look if she didn’t open up here.
“Lily won’t open the door.”
Ruby raised her eyebrows. “Maybe she isn’t home. For a man with a billion-dollar idea, you aren’t acting too smart.”
Ethan winced. “You read that, did you?” Maybe he should have shut the laptop before he’d stormed out…
With a harrumph, she answered, “At least now I know why you’re so keen to fix up my campground without thinking of payment. But I’d better find out that you charged those supplies to my account like I asked.” She wagged her finger in his face. “I’m not a charity case.”
“Of course,” he said, lying through his teeth. “I know you aren’t. I like it here.”
A twinkle in her eye, Ruby dropped her hand and smirked. “I told you the campground is lucky for love.”
Love? He liked Lily. A lot. But love? The thought terrified him. What if she refused to speak to him again?
Elbowing him aside, Ruby rapped politely on the door. “Lily? It’s Ruby.” When she didn’t get an answer, she unlocked the door and opened it.
The cabin inside was empty and still, without life. Ruby deposited the computer on the table and turned. “See? She must still be out on her walk. The girl’s got gumption, I’ll say that much.”
“Gumption?” He frowned.
“She took a map of the northeast trail. That one’s challenging for beginners. I’m surprised she hasn’t turned around already and come home.”
The northeast trail, where Ethan had seen that figure. If the figure had been the saboteur, after all…
He turned, peering through the open doorway toward the tree line. Dark clouds gathered over the Whitebark pine trees, with an ominous crackle like thunder in the distance. Soon, Lily would need more than gumption if she was going to survive. If she accidentally happened upon the man responsible for the sabotage on Ruby’s campground…
“I have to find her.”
As he bolted from the cabin, Ruby shouted after him. Her words were almost whipped away by the wind. “Don’t stay out too long. A storm is coming!”
That, he could see. But he would risk being out alone in a storm if it meant saving Lily. Right now, her safety was paramount.
Chapter 21
The moment Ethan spotted Lily’s form, laden with a bulging backpack, marching down the trail ahead of him, his knees threatened to buckle with relief. She was alive, unharmed. The figure probably had been a fellow hiker and he’d worried himself for nothing. As he lengthened his stride to shorten the distance between them, the dog at her ankles turned to give a bark in welcome.
Lily glanced behind her. The moment their gazes met, his stomach did a somersault. Then, her expression hostile, she turned away. “Leave me alone, Ethan.”
Her voice, more so than her words, cut him. Barely heard above the rattling tree branches, it was laden with emotion. With pain and distrust.
Give me another chance.
He jogged to her side to cut her off and force her to talk to him. “I can’t do that.” Rain pelted his back, light at first but growing stronger with every second.
Her eyes blazed. “I think you could, if only you’d try.”
She tried to step around him, but he stepped into her path. “Maybe I don’t want to try, then. Give me a chance to explain.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
At her venomous tone, Wookie whined and huddled against Lily’s leg.
“We’re strangers. I’m leaving in a few days. You’re doing who-knows-what. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
She didn’t listen to him. Instead of turning around, she feigned right and then sidestepped him when he tried to block her again. She stormed away, continuing down the path. When he turned, the rain stung his eyes and he raised a hand to shield his face as he followed.
The trail led to a steep ravine between two outcroppings. A rickety-looking wood-and-rope bridge joined the two sides. It swung in the wind, filling him with trepidation. It looked sturdy—in fact, with the glimpses of moss growing along the rope sides it looked as if it had stood for fifty years—but Ethan’s instincts clamored not to trust it. What if the saboteur had come through and tampered with the bridge in some way? Lily could die.
“Wait! Don’t step on that! It’s dangerous.”
His heart stopped beating for a split second as Lily raised her foot. She replaced it on solid ground and turned to face him, glaring as she stormed closer. “You don’t get to tell me what dangers I can and cannot face.”
“That isn’t what I meant. It might be—”
Happily trotting in Lily’s wake, Wookie didn’t follow suit and stop. Instead, she fearlessly bounded onto the wooden planks of the bridge, tail held high. When she reached two feet out, the bridge groaned. One rope snapped with a sound like lightning. As the bridge teetered, Wookie yelped, scrambling for purchase as the bridge hung vertically swaying precariously in the wind.
Ethan couldn’t breathe.
“Wookie!” Lily screamed. “No!”
When she dashed to the edge of the bridge, now hanging by a thread from the second rope, Ethan feared she would plunge into the ravine after her dog. His limbs unfroze and he darted after her, catching her around the middle and pulling her against his chest. The backpack she wore buffeted him in the face, but he didn’t care, not as long as she was safe.
Crack!
The bridge gave way plunging down the ravine, Ethan’s heart plunging with it.
“Wookie!” Lily broke loose and ran to the edge. Ethan rushed after her, culling his fist into her backpack so he could haul her back in case she did something stupid like jump over. He didn’t want to look at what lay below.
“Wookie, it’s okay. Mommy’s going to get you. Stay right there.”
What? Ethan stared over the lip of the chasm to see for himself. The cliff jutted out about seven feet down. Wookie, having landed on that outcropping, huddled next to the rock wall, visibly shaking. She was alive.
Thank God.
Lily struggled against him. “Let me go!”
Turning, he released her behind him and Lily shucked her backpack. She rummaged through it, strewing the contents across the ground. “Rope. There’s got to be rope. We’ve got to find some way to get her! I know her leash is in here somewhere.” Tears coursed down her cheeks, reddening her eyes and mingling with the rain. Above them, thunder rumbled.
Wookie yelped.
“It’s okay, baby. We’re going to get you up again.”
The pain in both sounds wrenched at his chest. He had to do something before the storm got worse.
Frustrated, Lily shoved the backpack away. “Why didn’t you design this thing to have a built in rope?”
There was a latch at the bottom of the bag to hold rope, but it had to be purchased and attached separately. He didn’t answer. His heart thundered as his instincts kicked in. He had to save Wookie from the certain death that awaited her the moment she panicked and slipped into the gorge. That meant going over the side of the cliff. He’d been in dangerous situations before and didn’t think twice about risking his life to save the being most cherished by Lily. But she was right—they needed rope.
“The rope bridge.”
“What?” She shoved her wet hair out of her eyes as she glanced up.
He pointed. “The bridge has more rope than needed to cross the ravine, so that the wind doesn’t pull it too tight and snap the rope. It’s already broken. If I can catch the rope, I can cut off enough to use to save Wookie.”
Lily wiped her eyes and sat up. “What do you need?” Her expression dimmed for a moment as she dropped her gaze. Then, determination overtaking her expression, she vowed, “I will help.”
“I’m going to lie flat on my stomach and dangle over the edge. I need you to hold my legs, sit on them if you have to, so I don’t fall.”
She nodded. “I can do that.”
As the storm surged around them, picking up in strength, Ethan tried not to think about the danger to himself and Lily. He breathed deep, as he’d been trained whenever he had a gun in his hand and aimed at a target. For the moment, no thoughts of fear entered his head. He laid on his belly on the cold, rocky and muddy ground and shimmied toward the edge of the cliff.
“Are you ready?” he called over his shoulder as his torso kissed the open air.
“Ready.” Lily clasped his ankles and leaned her inconsiderable weight against him. He hoped it would be enough counterbalance.
With a deep breath, he thrust his front half off the side of the cliff and reached for the rope. His fingers slipped, but he caught it on the second try. Bracing his hand on the cold, rough cliff face, he shut his eyes and tried to ground himself. The blood roared in his ears, but above that he heard the whimpers of a dog.
Wookie had offered him nothing but unconditional acceptance and affection. She deserved better by him than him giving in to vertigo. Wrapping the rope tight around his fist twice for leverage, he pulled the rope tighter as he walked his hands up the cliff. His muscles screamed at the full brunt of his weight.
He might have kept up his fitness level by hiking, but his arms had gone softer than they used to be. He should start lifting weights again. He gasped a mirthless laugh at his wayward thoughts as he thrust himself over the lip of the parapet and onto solid ground once more. He flung himself onto his back, the rain pelting his face as he caught his breath. The rope gave at first, then pulled back, pulling him an inch closer to the edge. Gritting his teeth, he told himself that he didn’t have the luxury of waiting for his heartbeat to slow. Wookie was still in danger.
Sitting up, he dug in his heels and used his full strength to pull the rope as taut as he could. His muscles bulged as he held the length steady. “Tell me you have something to cut this in that bag of yours.”
“Oh.” Lily bounced to her feet and rummaged through the bag. “I have a kitchen knife.”
“Just cut,” he said, grunting from the effort of holding the bridge steady. He didn’t have the strength to counteract the depth of the anchor at the other end. Either they cut the rope or he’d have to admit defeat and relinquish his hold.
Ethan wasn’t the kind of man who easily admitted defeat.
His arms shaking, he held the rope as tight and steady as he could while Lily sawed on the tough fibers with a paring knife. As she reached about halfway through the cord, the strength of the wind and Ethan’s pulling proved too much. It snapped, the far end fluttering into the chasm. The wooden planks, still held up by the other side of the bridge, rattled against one another. H
e fell backward, knocking his head against the ground.
Ow.
As his ears rang, Lily materialized by his side, touching him tentatively.
“Are you okay?” He read her lips more than heard her words.
His groan reverberated through him. “Yeah. Help me find a place to tie the rope. A tree near the edge will be best.”
She jumped up to do that one, pointing at the nearest tree to Wookie. Would it hold his weight? With the rain pummeling him, he couldn’t seem to think straight. He got to his feet and strode to the tree. The trunk was thinner than Lily’s waist, but the roots seemed to dig deep. He nodded and knelt by the tree, unraveling the fibers digging into his hand and cutting off his circulation. As he revealed his chafed skin, sensation jolted back into him, the raw skin from the rope burn protesting the cool rain. He flexed his hand and looked at the end of the rope for the first time since he’d grabbed hold of it.
“It’s been cut.” Those clean ends were certainly not made by nature.
Lily hovered over his shoulder. “The saboteur?”
“Is Pittman trying to kill somebody? The trails will close soon. It’s just been us on them, this past week. Unless he’s trying to keep people off his land…”
Still, a sick feeling churned in his stomach as he wrapped the rope around the tree, tying a knot and testing it.
“Actually…”
Ethan finished and glanced over his shoulder to find Lily standing with her arms wrapped around her middle.
“The bylaws for Greendale listed inspections in the spring. What if Ruby didn’t check the bridge properly and the inspectors noticed? She’s said herself that she doesn’t get around as often anymore as she used to. The inspectors might think the bridge was too worn for use and she was negligent.”