Finding Love in Sun Valley, Idaho (Resort to Love Book 1)

by Angela Ruth Strong

  “Yeah.” Tracen nodded, her disbelief making the story more fun to tell. “I think I was in eighth grade when somebody in the church gave him a jet ski. ‘What am I supposed to do with a jet ski?’ he asked. ‘You could use it for a jet ski ministry,’ they answered. So that’s what he did. Every Sunday after church he would bring his jet ski out here and give rides to anybody who wanted one. The only catch was they had to listen to him preach about Jesus the whole time.”

  Emily threw her head back and laughed. “I love it.”

  Tracen loved her reaction — the way she radiated contagious joy. She didn’t reveal her own beliefs, but at least she didn’t get tense at the mention of Christianity. “Yeah, he takes my dog for a ride on his jet ski sometimes too.”

  Emily’s giggles were addicting. “You’re kidding.”

  Tracen shook his head, trying to remember the last time anyone had been so entertained by one of his stories.

  “Hey, Captain,” Howie’s voice called from the water. “What are you two laughing about?”

  Tracen felt Emily turn to look at Howie with him. “You,” she said at almost the same time he did. Then her eyes caught his, and he couldn’t look away. He had to study them closer to see if they were really a lighter blue than the sky. They belonged in one of his niece’s Disney movies.

  “That’s nice,” hollered Howie. “Take advantage of the fact that I’m freezing my tail off in the lake so you can blab all my embarrassing stories.”

  Tracen dragged his gaze away from Emily. “If you’re ready to wakeboard, Howie, say so. I need more embarrassing stories to tell about you anyway.”

  “Shut it,” Howie shot back.

  Tracen held a hand up to his ear. “Did you say ‘hit it’?’” Before the older man could answer, he pressed on the throttle.

  Emily doubled over, watching Howie try to get up out of the water. She wiped tears from her eyes as Honey raised the orange flag again, and Tracen circled around.

  Her contagious laughter made Tracen chuckle as well. “He looks like a walrus trying to wakeboard, doesn’t he?”

  Emily’s laugh turned silent. She could barely get enough air in to breathe, let alone make a sound. She shoved him on the shoulder as if he were the only one making fun of Howie. “You are so mean.” She gasped for the next breath.

  “I’m only repeating words that came out of his own mouth.” Tracen grinned down at her. He could get used to this, but he’d better not. He motioned toward the back of the boat. “Why don’t you go coach him?”

  Emily did. And Howie got up on the third try — his average. He never mastered the no-hander, though Honey perfected her flagwaving skills. Between each brief run, Tracen finished the story he’d been telling Emily.

  She plopped back into the front seat as Howie readjusted his board. “He’s not a pastor anymore?”

  Tracen shook his head. “Not in the traditional sense. After seeing how many non-believers he could reach on the lake, he decided to try the river, as well. He started the rafting company I now own. He didn’t like the business side and offered me a great price to buy it.”

  Emily’s humor finally settled down. She studied Tracen with what appeared to be respect. “It’s worked out well for both of you.”

  Tracen shrugged. That’s not how Serena had seen his career choice. He revved the engine and pulled Howie another third of the way across the lake before the big guy bit it once again. Tracen ignored Howie’s rant about “receiving an enema” to focus back on Emily.

  “So what do you do in the winter?” she asked.

  Tracen pointed past her to the jagged Sawtooth Mountains, still boasting snow between each peak, even in July. “We teach boarding lessons.”

  Emily’s lips hinted at a smile. “Howie too?”

  “Howie too.” Tracen pretended not to notice how much the rafting guide thrashed about in the water to reach the rope Honey threw him. “He’s better on snow.”

  Emily ran a hand through her tangled locks and looked around. “I forgot how gorgeous it is up here.”

  Tracen knew how gorgeous the scenery was. It was Emily’s vibrancy for life that had all his attention. “You’ve been to Redfish Lake before?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Emily turned her attention back to Tracen, forcing him to monitor his expression. “I grew up in Idaho.”

  So she knew what she was giving up. Yet she chose the smog and traffic jams of Southern California over “adventures in living” — as the brochures advertised Idaho. She’d made her choice, exactly as Serena had.

  Tracen stood, ripped off his shirt, and dove overboard, the cool splash of water almost knocking some sense back into him.

  ****

  EMILY BLINKED AT TRACEN’S hasty exit. Was he hot? Was she supposed to dive into the lake, as well? Or was Tracen going to board with Howie? That was always fun, though Emily didn’t know if the engine to the tiny craft was strong enough to pull both boarders. Howie alone had been almost too much for it to handle.

  Howie apparently thought so too. “Dude,” he admonished.

  “My turn.” Tracen called dibs. “Honey, can you toss me a life jacket?”

  Emily almost responded before she realized he hadn’t been calling her honey. That would have been a little presumptuous.

  Howie reached the ladder. “Was I really that painful to watch?” he grumbled.

  Tracen stuck his arms into the vest Honey tossed him. He floated on his back and buckled the straps across his long torso, leaving a huge strip of skin above his trunks. He was fascinating to watch, but the sudden shift in behavior baffled her.

  His attitude didn’t improve much as she coached him on his backroll. “You under rotated.” She leaned over the edge of the boat after he crashed on his first attempt.

  “I know.” He didn’t even look at her.

  Maybe he was humiliated that she could do the trick and he couldn’t. “Do you know how to correct it?”

  Tracen set up for another run. “Rotate more?” He sounded testy.

  Emily stood tall and crossed her arms. “Just keep the rope in tighter.” Okay, now she was getting testy. She shouldn’t challenge him. Relaxing her posture, she added, “I had the same problem when I first started.”

  Tracen tossed his head as if shaking water out of his ear. Either he hadn’t heard her, or he didn’t care to respond. What had happened to the sweet man who talked of Christ and shared her laughter? Hello, Mr. Hyde.

  Emily lifted her chin and took her seat. As Tracen attempted the back roll again, it was obvious he’d heard her advice. He landed the flip by holding the rope closer to his body. It wasn’t pretty, but he pulled it out. The second time his landing flowed. The third time he owned the move.

  Emily cheered along with Howie and Honey. Surely nailing the back roll would put him in a good mood.

  But as Howie circled the boat around in front of the campground, Tracen dropped the rope and mimicked the dock landing she’d previously performed. Only he didn’t climb back in the boat afterward. He left the wakeboard and his vest resting on the wooden planks above the water and yelled to Howie that he was headed to town with somebody else to help them finish painting their house. He didn’t speak another word to Emily, and she couldn’t tell if he even looked at her with his blasted glasses on. Not the ending to their outing that she’d expected. Not the ending she’d hoped for.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NOT ONLY HAD EMILY GONE WAKEBOARDING when she should have been memorizing lines, but Tracen’s early departure had kept her from being able to focus that evening, as well. She moaned the next morning while plopping into Char’s chair.

  Char gasped. “You’ve got puffy eyes, girl. I’m going to have to pull out the big guns.” She opened a plastic drawer in her pink case to remove a tube of hemorrhoid cream. “Didn’t you sleep last night?”

  Emily flipped through her “sides” to find the scene with Jack. “I stayed up late trying to learn my lines.”

  “What?” Char was so full of dram
a, she should have been the actress. “You know them now, don’t you?”

  Emily bit her lip. “Not as well as I should.”

  Char’s fists found their way to her hips. “Why not?”

  “Oh…” Emily looked around the grove as if a good answer to Char’s questions would appear. None did. “’Cuz I went to Redfish Lake yesterday.”

  “Goodness gracious, girl. I’m guessing you went with that Tracen fellow. Hope it was worth it.” Char twisted the top off her tube of cream and smeared it under Emily’s eyes. She continued her rant, not giving Emily time to respond. Or maybe Emily’s response was too slow in coming. “Well, you look over your lines on paper while I take care of the lines on your face.”

  Emily ignored the herbal smell as she lifted the script so she could read it over Char’s hand. She read a sentence then dropped the papers back to her lap. “Won’t work.”

  Char continued to rub at Emily’s skin. “Sure it will.”

  Emily tried to go through the lines in her head. What came next?

  Ugh. It was going to be a long day.

  “I’ll have to wait till you’re done, Char. Even if I could see my lines over your hand, you know that with my learning style, I need to be moving to memorize something.”

  Char pulled away and huffed. “Go.” She pointed toward the backwoods. “Swing through the trees like Tarzan, or do whatever it is you do when you learn your lines. I don’t really buy that ‘learning style’ stuff, but I can put Jack’s makeup on first if that helps you. And I’ll be extra slow about it. That hemorrhoid cream needs time to work its magic anyway.”

  Emily pushed to her feet. She was going to have to cram to make sure she was ready in time. But she could do it. “Thanks, Char. I owe you.”

  “And don’t you forget it. I don’t know what you’d do without me.”

  Emily left Char raving about how if Wonder Woman had a super-hero sidekick, she’d be the perfect fit. Escaping the craziness of the film crew, Emily found a clearing where she could focus without distraction. She paced from tree to tree, letting her lines spill from memory, pausing to look up the ones she forgot. As the scene began to form in her head, she found herself moving faster. She circled around a fat tree stump, bounding over the snakelike roots.

  She could see the scene in her head. Jack would yell. She’d wave her arms as she argued. He’d grab her wrists to hold her still. Then she’d be in his arms, his lips hovering close to hers. His hazel eyes would caress her face, their golden flecks lighting with awareness. Then they would grow darker as they… dang. Jack had blue eyes. She’d been imagining kissing Tracen.

  Even when she was practicing her lines, she was still thinking about the rafting guide. With a growl of frustration, Emily charged the largest tree. She didn’t slow down as she neared it. Rather, she placed one foot on the thick trunk as if she were going to run right up it, kicked the other leg through, and tucked her body into a flip. Landing on her feet, she found herself face-to-face with Tracen. His startled eyes were definitely hazel.

  ****

  TRACEN SWUNG THE AXE one last time and felt the satisfying split of the log becoming firewood. Even though Idaho summers were warm, the mornings usually started out chilly. And a roaring fire was always a sure hit with customers hoping for an outdoorsy adventure.

  Dropping a couple more sticks for kindling into his pack, he headed back toward The Point, surrounded by the woodsy scent of cedar and pine. He needed the day off from filming. Not only did he have a backlog of bookwork and phone calls to return, but he could use a distraction from the actress with the irresistible smile.

  He’d only known her for three days now, but during those three days, she’d been everywhere he went. It was intoxicating. That’s why he’d run away from Redfish Lake the day before. Yes, a friend had asked him to help paint his living room, but if his friend hadn’t been there, he would have found another excuse for taking off. He felt bad for leaving Howie to remove the boat from the lake without his help, but he was sure Honey understood.

  As for Emily, he’d definitely sent her mixed messages, which was another good reason he was glad he wouldn’t have to face her today. He needed time to think about what he would say when he saw her again.

  But his time was up, because there she was, flying through the air like a wood sprite, landing only a few feet away. Her lips parted in an expression showing the same surprise he felt.

  This was the last thing Tracen had expected when he’d left The Point to chop wood. The thought caused a chuckle to rumble in his chest. Dare he ask? “What are you doing?”

  Emily stepped backwards, as if embarrassed. The humility made her even more endearing. “I’m practicing my lines.”

  Tracen glanced at the tree Emily had pushed off from before flipping through the air. “It looked like you were practicing for a stunt.”

  “No.” Emily shrugged. “The stunts are easy. It’s the lines I really have to work on. I can’t remember them unless I’m moving while I practice.”

  Tracen swung his pack to the ground, the weight too much to support while standing still for a discussion. It would have been a good excuse to keep going, but curiosity kept him from continuing to the lodge. “Shouldn’t you know your lines by now?”

  “Yeah.” Emily’s cheekbones popped out as she smiled. “Yeah, I should. But, see, I went wakeboarding yesterday instead of working.”

  Tracen clicked his tongue. “What’d you do that for?”

  Emily’s smile turned mischievous. “Well, there was this one guy I wanted to help with his back roll.”

  Tracen crossed his arms. “Did he get it?”

  Emily’s eyes lit up as if delighted Tracen chose to play along. “He did.” She tilted her chin up. “Then he took off without saying good-bye.”

  So she’d called him out on the floor, and it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. The words he thought he’d have to take time to consider came easily and truthfully. “He should have at least said thank you.”

  Emily wandered away, running her fingers through the leaves that waved in the trees. “That would have been nice. Though I don’t think he was thankful. He seemed kind of resentful.”

  Tracen wanted to follow but instead rested one hand on a branch overhead and watched her. “Maybe the guy was dealing with something else you know absolutely nothing about.” Oops. That was more than he’d wanted to say.

  Emily rounded a tree and came back to face him, the teasing twinkle gone from her mesmerizing eyes. “It would have been nice if he’d told me, instead of keeping me awake all night wondering.”

  Tracen had trouble absorbing her words. He’d been up all night too, but he never expected Emily Van Arsdale to feel the same way. Wasn’t he simply a challenge for her? While he ached to hear her words, he needed to ease away from getting his feelings tangled with hers. “I’m sure he’ll make it up to you if he can.” There. He’d taken the conversation to the tangible.

  Emily stopped moving — a rare sight. “Really?”

  Her one word caused him to freeze, as well. “What do you want?”

  ****

  WHAT DID SHE WANT? She wanted to know what Tracen was dealing with, but obviously he was hesitant to tell her. He just wanted to fix his mistake. He’d offered to make it up to her, but how far was he willing to go? The way he grew still when asking what she wanted gave her the impression that she’d do better to ask for something little.

  Taking a step forward, Emily moved closer to Tracen. “I know what I want.”

  Tracen’s eyes went on alert. What was he afraid of? What did he think she would ask? She took another step forward. His face turned to stone.

  He was shutting down, like he had before diving out of the boat. Could the mysterious “something else” he was dealing with have to do with another woman? Is that why he put up his guard every time she got too close?

  The closer Emily got, the higher she had to lift her head to focus on his face. Tracen’s gaze grew wary.

 
He cleared his throat, causing his Adam’s apple to bob. “What?”

  Emily waited a moment before lifting her script between them. “I want to learn my lines. Will you read the scene with me?”

  Tracen’s nostrils flared as he inhaled. He took the script from her hands, careful not to touch her. “I can do that.”

  Emily decided not to let him off so easily. Grabbing his free hand, she pulled him toward the stump. His skin felt warm and rough, hinting at the strength it must have taken to split the logs he’d been carrying. His grip was light, but protective at the same time, making Emily think he was hesitant to overdo another rescue.

  Reluctantly she let go, wishing he would want to continue touching her as much as she wanted him to. Wishing he would cradle her cheek in his palm or run his fingertips along her arms. Her toes tingled at the thought.

  “Okay.” She stepped up onto the tree stump so her eyes were level with his chin. “Second page.”

  Tracen looked down at her a moment before lifting the script. “Who am I? Where do I read?”

  Emily leaned forward. “Right there.” Tracen’s breath lifted a curl from her forehead. He was so close. “Right, um…” The warmth spread through her face and down her spine. “It’s, uh, Jack’s character. I think.” How could she talk when her senses kept her so distracted?

  Tracen snapped to attention. “Got it.”

  Emily straightened, as well. “I’m ready.” Yeah, right.

  Tracen’s eyes focused on the paper. “Where’s your fiancé?” His voice came out stiff as he read the line.

  Emily made sure she spoke naturally. “He’s patching the raft.”

  Tracen took time to follow the written dialogue. “How are you?” he finally asked.

  “I’m scared,” Emily answered. “Do you get scared?”

  “I’m scared right now.” Tracen plodded along.

  Emily gave a disbelieving laugh. It must have sounded real, because Tracen glanced up to gauge her expression. “What are you scared of?” she asked.