by Donya Lynne
There was something serene and homey about the town. Congenial. Relaxing. No one seemed to be in a rush. If Grandpa was giving her a sign, he’d picked well. She could definitely find herself in a place like this.
“Here you go.” Shirl set a Lipton tea bag, a small metal pot of hot water, and a glass of ice water on the table. “You need more time to look things over?” She gestured toward the plastic-covered menu with her yellow number two pencil.
Lacey glanced down and scanned her choices. “Um…” She’d been so busy reminiscing she hadn’t even looked at the menu. “What’s good here?”
Shirl perked up as if eager to educate a newcomer. “Pappy’s is known for our burgers, sweet potato fries, and shakes.” She pointed to a blackboard on the wall behind the counter. Over twenty flavors were written in brightly colored chalk of all hues, the lettering fat and bold. “We’ve got the best veggie burger this side of the Mississippi, too.”
Wow. That was saying something since California was the predominant culinary force in the western states, especially when it came to veggie burgers.
“Okay, um…I’ll try the veggie burger then. And the sweet potato fries. And an Oreo shake. Can I get caramel in that, too?” Might as well break all the rules. She was finding herself, right?
Shirl scribbled on her pad, nodding. “Sure thing, sweetie. Anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
Shirl collected the menu with the practiced movements of someone who’d been waiting tables all her life. “Be right up, honey.” She scuttled off to put in the order, and Lacey scanned the inside of the diner.
Locals gave her curious glances but otherwise paid her no attention. As if she were just another passer-thru and nobody special. Not Lacey Moon, Olympian and X Games champion.
A thrill shot through her. She might just be able to pull this off. Be an invisible nobody. Walk down the street without anyone running after her for an autograph or photo op.
While she waited for her food, she pulled out her phone and did a search for a place to stay while she was in town. Because, yes, she’d decided to give Hope Falls a shot. She’d stay here a few days, maybe a week, see how it went.
Hotel Hope Falls looked nice, but she wanted something more obscure. Someplace that felt like home and offered extended stays, but was more isolated. Surely, there was a cabin rental place around here. Places like Hope Falls always had cabin rentals.
Within minutes, she found two that looked promising. McCord Cabin Rentals and Evergreen Cabins. Both had availability, and both were close enough to Hope Falls not to be in the sticks, but far enough away she wouldn’t feel crowded.
Okay, Grandpa, if you really want me here, you decide which cabin place I should stay at. Give me a sign.
Bobby Darin’s “Dream Lover” cranked up in the jukebox just as the bell jangled on the door. She looked up, her index finger still poised over her phone’s touch screen, and her jaw dropped.
The specimen of tall, dark, and handsome that entered stole her breath, along with her motor skills and ability to form coherent thoughts. All she could do was stare as he crossed to the counter and swaggered onto one of the barstools in an easy way that bespoke he’d done so a thousand times. And from the way the others in Pappy’s reacted to him, he was a regular. Several of the patrons nodded, waved, or grinned in greeting, and the waitresses all seemed to brighten, as if they’d simply been waiting for him to show up.
“Hi, Scott,” Shirl said with a wink.
“Hey, Shirl.” The deep timbre of his voice overruled every conversation in the place, traveling to Lacey’s ears as if it had been made just for her.
He wore a perpetual scowl, but not in a way that made him seem unfriendly, just…intense. Guarded maybe. As if he’d gotten so used to pushing people away with just a look that the expression had taken up permanent residence on his face.
He glanced up and down the counter, returning the greetings of those around him, and then unfolded the newspaper he’d carried in and began to read.
She was still studying him a moment later when his gaze lifted and met hers as if he’d felt her staring. Sucking in her breath, she buried her face in her phone again, absently tapping her finger on the link for McCord Cabin Rentals without thinking.
Decision made. Thanks to the handsome, brooding man at the counter who had forced her to look busy instead of gaping at him like a starstruck groupie.
As she finished making her cabin reservation, Shirl returned with her food on a large oval-shaped plate.
“Here you go, sugar. I’ll check back in a few.”
Lacey hadn’t expected such an oversized spread, but it looked and smelled mouthwatering, and before she knew it, she had inhaled half the burger and the fries. She’d been hungrier than she thought.
“Here’s your order, Scott.”
Lacey was chomping out another bite of her veggie burger as one of the waitresses handed a to-go bag to Mr. Gorgeous. He pressed his lips together in what she imagined was his attempt at a smile, took the bag, and stood. As he made his way to the door, he glanced sideways at her again. This time, instead of looking away, she sat a little bit taller. This might be the last time she saw the guy, and she kind of wanted to commit that striking, brooding face to memory.
His pace slowed as he neared the door, and his expression softened. The faintest of smiles touched his mouth. It wasn’t much as far as smiles go—almost imperceptible really, but that didn’t matter.
He was smiling. At her.
She smiled back, still holding the burger in front of her mouth.
With a subtle nod in her direction, he pushed open the door and exited.
She continued to stare after him as he walked toward the parking lot on the other side of the restaurant and climbed into a dark grey Dodge extended cab truck that looked like it had seen its share of salt spray and muddy puddles.
“Don’t get your hopes up, honey.”
Lacey snapped from her daze and looked up at Shirl, who winked down at her. “Oh, uh…what?”
Shirl bobbed her head toward Scott’s truck as it pulled from the parking lot. “Our Scott there.” She waved as the truck drove past. “Don’t get your hopes up for that one.”
“I’m not…I wasn’t…” She glanced out the window then down at her mangled burger.
Shirley laughed. “It’s okay, honey. We all have our dreams about Scott. Even an old grandma like me.” She propped her hand on her hip, holding her ever-present coffee decanter in her other hand. “After all, he’s just about the handsomest thing ever to happen to Hope Falls. A young thing like you can’t help but notice an eligible bachelor like Scott, am I right?” She giggled and continued without waiting for an answer. “But I feel it’s my duty to tell you not to waste your time. Scott hasn’t dated anyone in ten years. Tragic story. Just tragic.” She shook her head, but it was obvious she was simply waiting for an invitation to spill all.
“Why do you say that? What happened?” And just that quickly, Lacey took the bait, even though every bone in her body loathed her for it.
As a victim of gossip more times than she cared to remember, she hated the shit, but her desire to learn more about the man-god who had just walked out the door was stronger.
Shirl’s eyes twinkled, obviously pleased she’d found an audience who hadn’t yet heard the story. Lacey made a mental note to watch what she said around Shirl.
“It all started ten years ago,” Shirl said. “Scott was the biggest football star Hope Falls had ever seen. Earned a football scholarship to Oregon. Everyone was sure he’d go pro after college. A few pro scouts even tried to talk him into going straight into the big leagues, but Scott was too smart for that. A lot of talent and brains in that one.” She paused, shaking her head regretfully. Then she inched closer and lowered her voice. “He would have been a star if not for what his girl did to him.”
Chapter 4
“Daddy!”
Scott set his bag of food on a bench overlooking Hast
ings Skatepark and knelt to catch his daughter as she launched herself into his arms.
“Savannah, be careful,” her mom said.
Scott shook his head at his ex, Theresa, as he hefted Savannah and stood. “No, it’s okay.” He kissed Savannah’s cheek. “You’re not big enough to hurt your dad, yet. Are you, birthday girl?”
“No!” Savannah giggled.
“That’s right.” He hugged her and pinched her nose.
Someday Savannah would be too big for him to pick up and rest on his hip. Too old to indulge him his doting, fatherly love. But not yet.
Theresa tucked her brown hair behind her ears and crossed her arms. “How are you?”
Scott grinned blankly at Savannah as he set her down and watched her grab her skateboard and dart back to her friends. “Are you still planning on moving in two weeks?”
“Yes.”
“Then how do you think I am?”
In two weeks, Theresa was going to take Savannah away from him. Well, not really away, but two hours south was far enough to feel like away.
Theresa shifted her weight and averted her gaze back to the dozen or so friends who had joined Savannah for her birthday party at the park.
“I’m sorry, Scott.”
He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me all over again, Theresa. Destroying my world without even consulting me. Without even getting my input first. Just like before, when…” His jaw clenched as he watched Savannah skateboard down a slope to the other side, where she zoomed up the incline, pulled a u-ey, and rocketed back down to the flat. He hated thinking about the past.
“That’s not fair,” Theresa said. “This is nothing like what happened when I got pregnant.” Her face reddened with guilt.
Theresa didn’t like talking about how Savannah came to be any more than he liked to think about it. But even though they’d dealt with all that crap years ago, it sometimes still felt way too fresh.
Scott blew out a defeated breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But, damn it, Theresa, it feels exactly the same. I feel like this is a nightmare and I’m going to wake up and realize this has all been a huge mistake and that you’re not really taking her two hours away.”
Theresa sighed and lowered her head. “What do you want me to say, Scott? I can only say I’m sorry so many times.”
He turned and snatched his bag of food off the concrete bench, more to expend his frustration than because he was hungry. “Why can’t Brian move here?”
But Scott already knew the answer. Theresa’s fiancé Brian was a big-time potato farmer. He couldn’t move. His business was south, so if Theresa was going to marry him, that’s where she had to be. And she was taking Savannah with her.
In less than two weeks.
“Scott, you know Brian can’t move here.”
He sat on the bench and dug out his to-go box of burger and fries. “I know, but damn it, Theresa. You know how much Savannah means to me.”
“And you’ll see her every weekend if you want.”
“Two hours one way, Terry.” He gave her an affronted look. “I can’t take eight hours to pick up and drop off my daughter every week, and you know it.” He had work. Not just at the cabins, but at the high school, as well as for the park if they needed him for volunteer maintenance. And what about in winter? Two hours was how long the drive took without snow and ice piled on the roads. Not to mention, the drive would get old for Savannah fast.
Theresa made a noise of capitulation as Scott bit into his burger. “We’ll figure something out. Okay? I know how much Savannah means to you. I won’t keep her from you.”
Ten years ago, the last thing Scott had wanted was a daughter, but Theresa had had other plans. Without warning him, she’d stopped taking the pill and gotten pregnant. She’d said it was because she was scared of losing him when he went off to college.
The betrayal of trust had destroyed their relationship, but not his love for his daughter. The first time he held her, he knew he would never love anyone or anything more. She was his life. His world.
And now Theresa was taking her away.
The knife drove into his heart again. And just as before, Theresa was the one holding it.
He frowned against the memories of the domino effect Theresa’s actions had stirred into motion that night ten years ago. The night he learned what she’d done, he’d been so angry, so hurt. He couldn’t comprehend how someone who claimed to love him—who he had loved with all his heart—could pull such a devious, life-changing trick on him.
In a heated flurry, he’d left her house and driven home, stunned, eyes misty with tears.
He winced as he remembered the impact. The sound of crumpling metal.
The way life as he knew it ceased to exist in the blink of an eye.
Feeling pain in his heart, he lifted his gaze to his nine-year-old daughter as she threw another trick on her skateboard. Losing her now, after she’d become his entire life, made him feel like he was reliving the car crash all over again.
The crash that ended his football career.
The crash that had almost killed him.
Chapter 5
Lacey pulled the blanket she was snuggled under farther up her body, hugging the bowl of popcorn she was munching on against her chest.
For a week, she’d remained mostly secluded in her cabin except for a trip into town for groceries. The place was fully furnished, so it had all the comforts of home. And the lake view from the private back patio was breathtaking.
She liked the place so much she’d extended her rental contract for another month.
At midnight, the movie she was watching ended, and she returned her empty bowl to the kitchen. As she rinsed it out, she shivered. Was it her, or was it colder inside the cabin?
A check of the thermostat sent a shard of alarm through her. The heat wasn’t working. And with the temperature outside near freezing, heat wasn’t a luxury she could do without.
Damn it. Pulling on the chunky, light-blue sweater she’d bought in town after leaving Pappy’s that first day, she hustled to the bedroom, where she pulled the rental paperwork from the bedside table and turned on the lamp. Surely, there was a maintenance number.
Within seconds, she found the phone number along the bottom margin and grabbed the phone.
“McCord Cabins answering service.”
“This is La—er, Mathilda Moon in cabin thirty-six. My heat isn’t working.”
There was a brief pause, and then, “We’ll send someone out. He should be there within the half-hour.”
“Okay. Thank you.” She hung up and paced back to the living room, where she waited on the couch, cuddled under her blanket, distractedly watching the late movie. Some horror flick. Why did they show these kinds of movies at such a late hour? Anyone who watched them wouldn’t get any sleep. But maybe that was the point. Anyone up this late wasn’t sleeping anyway.
Twenty minutes later, headlights flashed on the wall, and she hopped up to see a truck pull into the driveway.
Hurrying toward the door, she pulled it open as the service tech made his way to the porch.
“Thank you for coming out so late. I—” Her words caught in her throat.
The maintenance tech who had come to save her from freezing her ass off was none other than the man she’d drooled over at Pappy’s five days ago. Scott. The man who’d suffered more than anyone should ever have to suffer at such a young age, according to the story Shirl had told her.
He wore a puffy, green Oregon Ducks coat, grey knit scarf, and a green and yellow Oregon skullcap with a pom-pom on top. Dark brown—almost black—hair peeked out in tufts from under the cap, and dark scruff covered his proud, square jaw.
His gaze met hers and his steps briefly faltered as recognition lit his eyes. “Are you Mathilda?” He spoke as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
Lacey looked away. She hated lying to this guy. “Um, yes. But everyone calls me Matti
e.” If Grandpa could be considered “everyone,” it wasn’t a total lie.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mattie.” He stepped in front of her, and she lifted her gaze to his once more.
He looked like he was trying to put together a puzzle, studying her as though he wasn’t sure what to make of her. God, he was tall. As in way tall. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.
“So…” Scott’s eyes narrowed then he glanced over her head into the cabin. “I hear your heat’s not working.”
She was plenty warm enough now, thanks to him, but that wouldn’t sustain her through the night unless he stayed. Which no way would that happen. Lacey hadn’t come all this way just to hook up with a piece of hot man flesh. This trip was about finding herself, not her libido, even if her libido was currently making a persuasive argument about being found.
“Yes.” She stepped aside to let him in. He towered over her as he crossed the threshold and beelined for the utility room. He moved like a jungle cat, sleek and silent, but full of purpose.
She followed, pulling her sweater more snugly around her, recalling the story Shirl had told her. Who would have thought the man in front of her, who carried himself with such strength and control, had once been a mangled mess of broken bones, lacerations, and bruises? Was the crease jutting up from the inside edge of his left eyebrow a scar or just a product of too much scowling?
Scott had plenty of reasons to scowl, too, if what Shirl had told her was true. If Lacey thought she had problems, Scott had her beat. Going from being a promising wide receiver with the entire world at his fingertips and nothing but success in his future to having his dreams yanked out from under him in less than a second was way worse than anything Lacey had ever faced.
And how do you trust again after being lied to about something as important and life-changing as a baby? No wonder Shirl had told her not to get her hopes up.
She hovered nearby as Scott inspected the furnace.
“Looks like your pilot light went out.” He glanced over his shoulder. His gaze softened once it met hers.