Reaching For Normal Page 19

  To leave or not to leave, that was the question.

  If she left, Sawyer would never know her feelings. He could go happily or grumpily, about his life without knowing she’d left a large part of herself behind.

  The man was living with enough guilt about things that had happened in his past. She didn’t want to add to that mountain of emotion. He didn’t deserve to have any more regrets.

  But if she left, she’d never know if there was even a sliver of potential for a relationship between them.

  Even a sliver would be enough to keep her there.

  She hadn’t had a home base in years, she basically lived out of her car and bought whatever she needed at the time.

  The absolute last thing she’d needed was to buy snowshoes that would have to be stored in Freddy.

  But she’d bought them anyway because she believed in that sliver.

  Could she be a normal woman who stayed in one place? One who loved a man and created a future with him?

  Myla huffed out a huge breath. Past experience proved over and over again that normal was beyond her reach.

  Running again?

  The voice tickled at her brain. In her Christmas cards, Irene often asked that. Why didn’t Myla find a home? Why did she keep moving?

  Because she was terrified of staying.

  Staying in one place had never worked out. Just as she’d become attached to a foster family, she’d been moved. Just as she’d gotten used to college, she’d graduated.

  Job to job.

  City to city.

  Her current freelance writing could be done anywhere.

  Even if she stayed in one place. Like Bloo Moose.

  Warmth seeped through Myla at the thought. One place. Bloo Moose. With Sawyer.

  Or not.

  With a sigh, Myla decided the exercise wasn’t doing her any good. She was just as confused as before.

  Talking to Sawyer was the obvious choice but if she hurt him in that process she’d never forgive herself. He’d given her so much.

  She hadn’t had a single self-pity thought directed at her leg since they’d tumbled into bed. She’d finally come to truly accept her leg as a part of herself.

  Thanks to Sawyer.

  He’d also fulfilled her desire to not be a virgin anymore. And boy, had he fulfilled it.

  So to thank him, she’d dump her feelings on him and add to his guilt load.

  Unless he felt something for her in return.

  If nothing else, Bloo Moose was working to convince her she was a worthy person. From Mel who’d fixed Freddy, to Darby who’d been nothing but kind and generous, to Quinn and the other men out in the bush, to Sawyer. All of them.

  For the first time in her life, she wasn’t itching for the next assignment. She wanted to stay.

  With Mother Nature’s sense of timing, Myla broke into the open and the sunlight as she made her decision.

  She’d tell Sawyer how she felt.

  She’d ask for a future with him.

  She’d fight for love and a home.

  Grinning Myla spread out her arms and did a little jig on the edge of the tree line. Before her, the Vermont forest spread out in all its glory.

  The steep bluff in front of her echoed her thoughts of tumbling into love. Sunshine glinted off ice formations growing out of the rocks on the sides of the valley. Trees showed their determination and persistence by growing between rocks at ridiculous angles.

  Apparently Ma Nature approved of her decision.

  Clumsy Girl Finds Home.

  Now she needed the courage and the means to tell Sawyer. Romantic dinner? Another hike? Flowers? An article?

  Myla slipped off her backpack and grabbed her phone. She sent up a cheer when she saw the bars. Opening her cloud, she quickly typed up an article for her blog. The words flowed easily and quickly and had tears shimmering in her eyes.

  When she was done, she dropped the phone back in the pack and grabbed a water bottle and granola. She’d packed lots. Just in case.

  While she munched, Myla looked over the valley. Loco and Gunner would love this place. Sawyer’s wolves as well. He assured her they liked to play as much as the dogs.

  She could picture them all zipping in and out of the trees and bushes, wrestling and them jumping apart to do it all again.

  When a gunshot sounded, Myla threw herself to the ground. Only a few days ago, she’d never heard the sound, now it sent fear rattling through her.

  This shot was far closer than the one they’d heard the day she and Sawyer hiked this area. At least she wore her red coat.

  Should she stay crouched down or jump up and make noise so the hunter would know she was there?

  The sound of grumpy cursing reached her and Myla smiled at her own prejudices. A female hunter.

  More relaxed now, Myla started pushing to her feet. “Hello. I’m not a moose. Please don’t shoot.”

  She was smiling at herself when her knee buckled and she thumped back down to the snow.

  Another shot sounded and a breeze blew through Myla’s hair as she fell. From the bullet?

  Myla massaged her calf as she surveyed the area. It was crazy to think someone was shooting at her. Sawyer had told her sounds carried for miles in the forest. Neither the swearing nor the wind had to be connected to the shot.

  She got to her feet but stayed low and tried to channel Sawyer’s calm. What would he do?

  Well, he wouldn’t be panicking. He’d be reaching for his guns and making plans.

  And protecting her.

  Rustling branches drew Myla’s eye to the trees to her right. Animal or human? Rampaging moose or scavenging squirrel?

  A woman wearing a dark green jacket and toting a rifle as big as her strode through the trees. Relief at not seeing another pissed off moose dissipated until Myla looked into her eyes.

  Triumph. And hatred.

  The woman pointed the rifle at her with a smile.

  Myla stepped back. Twice. She held her hands to the side to show she wasn’t armed. Judging by the movies she’d seen, she should probably say something soothing. Or brave.

  But she had nothing and she wasn’t sure her mouth would obey her brain. The only parts of her body working were her feet and letting them retreat seemed like a good idea.

  Crazy lady kept advancing with that rifle pointed at Myla’s chest.

  At her next step, Myla’s foot landed on absolutely nothing.

  Arms flailing, feet scrambling, Myla tried to grab at anything to stop the fall down the steep hill she’d been looking at earlier.

  Nothing.

  Then she was falling, tumbling ass-backward down the slope.

  Her head smacked against something and reality started to spin away. With her last coherent thought, she hoped Sawyer wouldn’t blame himself when they found her body.

  AS Sawyer neared Darby’s B&B, his Spidey senses were tingling on full alert.

  Something was very wrong.

  Myla’s ridiculous green car wasn’t in the parking lot and those warning bells ramped up.

  Inside he found Darby working some dough into a long roll.

  “Hey. I’m trying out a pretzel recipe. If you stick around long enough, you can be my guinea pig.”

  “Do you know where Myla is?”

  “And hello to you too. I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

  “Darby.” His voice was almost a growl. “Do you know where she is?”

  Something in his tone must have alerted her because Darby dropped her dough and turned to the sink to wash her hands.

  “I think she went snowshoeing. She bought a pair from Quinn yesterday and told me she wanted to try them out. Why? What’s wrong?”

  He paced the kitchen and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. she’s not answering her phone or returning my call and...” He let the voice trail away. His gut hadn’t been reliable in so long he didn’t want to trust it but if Myla’s safety was in jeopardy, he couldn’t ignore it.

  Sa
wyer pulled out his phone and called Quinn. He didn’t let his friend answer before he spoke. “Where’s Myla?”

  Quinn laughed. “Worried I’m going to steal your little spitfire away from you?”

  “Where is she? When did you last see her?”

  Quinn pulled in an audible breath. “Something’s wrong.” It was a statement so Sawyer didn’t bother answering. “Okay, Myla was here yesterday. Bought snowshoes. Teased about her how expensive a purchase that was if she’s leaving in a couple of days.” He chuckled. “Turned all shades of pink but didn’t say anything else.”

  “Did she say where she was heading?”

  “No, but I figured she was going with you. What’s going on Sawyer? Is Myla okay?”

  Sawyer kept pacing. “I don’t know. Probably nothing. I’m not sure. Can’t get a hold of her and I’ve got this feeling.”

  “Shit. That’s not good. Did you piss her off? Is she avoiding your calls?”

  Maybe. “Hey, Darby. Call Myla and see if she picks up.”

  They all waited but Sawyer could hear the rings through his sister’s phone. No answer.

  “Let me know when you have a plan. I’ll close up shop and help.” Quinn hung up knowing he’d need to think. And plan.

  Or not. Maybe he was crazy.

  Maybe she made a note and left it in her room. Or her computer might have some answers. She was a writer. Chances are she wrote things down. Lists and things.

  And when he said all of that to Darby she told him he’d lost his marbles.

  “I’ve got to know. Let me peek into her room.”

  “No way. All on a hunch that’s something’s wrong? I won’t violate a guest’s privacy like that.”

  “She probably looked up trails online. She’s not a local. Please, Darb. I need to see.”

  When she crossed her arms and shook her head, he blew out a huge breath. He’d get in there one way or another but he’d rather not break down the door because he’d only end up having to fix it.

  He did a gut check. Tried to clear his head of everything and think. She was out of contact. They were in Vermont. Outside of town, contact was sketchy at best.

  His senses had been shot since Afghanistan. He’d had a flashback in the bush. Maybe he was still screwed up over that.

  But his gut continued to scream at him that Myla was in danger.

  “I’m going in there Darby whether you help me or not. What’s it going to be?”

  Tears glittered in her eyes. “You think she’s in trouble?”

  He nodded and followed her as she scooted up the stairs.

  Upstairs, Sawyer brushed past his sister as soon as the door clicked open.

  The subtle scent of Myla filled the room and nearly knocked him off his feet. The room looked like her too. Organized chaos. Books and magazines everywhere. One drawer open giving him a tantalizing view of lingerie.

  Shaking his head, Sawyer turned to the desk where the laptop lay open.

  Hoping the dainty chair would hold his weight, Sawyer sat and tapped the mouse pad, hoping it was on and not password protected. In only a few seconds, the screen blinked a few times, and then he was looking at a photo of a forest.

  His forest.

  The photo from the clearing where he’d left her on the first day he’d taken her out on snowshoes. The clearing where he’d first kissed her.

  Loco’s ears and the top of his head showed in the bottom of the picture, the dog’s head cocked at an angle indicating curiosity.

  Beyond the dog’s head, Sawyer’s and Gunner’s tracks led across the clearing and disappeared into the trees. Sun sparkled off the snow making the picture look like the entrance to a fairy tale.

  Darby’s hand on his shoulder told him he’d been sitting staring at the picture too long. “Is that Loco?” He nodded and she squeezed his shoulder. “You guys have obviously made a big impression.”

  Yeah. Maybe.

  Pulling his eyes away from the picture, Sawyer checked the toolbar to see what icons were open. Multiple word processing documents. That felt personal. Too personal but the worry was real.

  He clicked open her internet browser instead. At least a dozen tabs open.

  Darby’s soft gasp told him he’d missed something in the page he was looking at.

  “Myla is Clumsy Girl? Seriously? I love her blog. I’ve got a celebrity in my B&B!”

  It was like she’d started speaking Klingon. “What?”

  Darby pointed at the screen. “Myla is a blogger as well as a writer. Famous one, too. She writes about her disasters as she goes about her life. She’s hilarious.”

  The page in front of him was titled Little Red Clumsy Girl. It detailed her adventures of their first snowshoeing experience. She didn’t give even the slightest clue of his identity or their location. It could have been any forest anywhere.

  He was grinning by the end of the article. She’d conveyed her fear and nerves, along with her excitement, made the reader laugh along with her as her imagination created one scenario after another about what might have happened to her guide.

  Talented writer.

  Darby reached over his shoulder and pointed to another tab, so he clicked.

  Clumsy Girl Learns to Walk. About her first attempt at snowshoeing.

  Clumsy Girl Skis. Sort Of.

  Clumsy Girl’s Trial by Ice. Her experience of walking on the stream on snowshoes. No mention of being chased or the dangers.

  Clumsy Girl Visits Gossip Central. Darby laughed aloud as they read how the grapevine had been updated to texting. She’d nailed Megs Carter and Mario Fortini without jeopardizing anyone’s identity.

  “She’s amazing. I’m going to fangirl all over her.”

  More Klingon. Darby pointed at the last tab and he clicked over.

  Breath refused to move in or out of his lungs. Darby gripped his shoulder and sighed softly.

  Sawyer’s eyes rested on the headline. Big, bold letters.

  Clumsy Girl Falls Again. This Time In Love.

  Love.

  Sawyer skimmed the post. No names. He needed clues.

  Trusty guide...

  Winter expert...

  And even though I know he doesn’t feel the same and that I’m probably heading down the road to Broken Heartsville, it’s all right.

  Really. It’s all right because I know something else as well.

  It’s worth it.

  Loving him makes me better. Stronger. Whole.

  He’s given me so much and taught me so many things.

  Not only how to get up when I fall but to believe I can get up. For a long time, I wasn’t sure I was capable of taking the enormous, mind-boggling risk to love someone.

  Now, I know I am.

  So, along with my love, he’ll always have my thanks.

  Now, to find that magic spell to make him fall in love with me, too.

  Because you know believing in love means believing in miracles, too.

  Wish me luck!

  Better yet, wish me love!

  Sawyer’s heart slammed against his ribs and he was damn glad he was sitting down. She loved him back.

  Only she didn’t know he loved her too. He had to find her.

  Darby squatted down beside him. “Well, do you? Do you love her back?”

  He rolled his eyes and ignored her. They hadn’t found a clue to where she’d headed and he needed to find her now more than ever.

  Laughing, his sister reached up to kiss him on the cheek and squeeze him tightly. “I’m so glad.” Tears hung in her voice and he sighed. Women.

  Instead of clicking to another page, he read the article again, barely holding in the grin.

  Darby swatted him on the head and reached past him to open a new tab and to check the browser history. No snowshoeing trails.

  While Darby searched his mind clicked through what he’d read. Was it real?

  She was a writer. If Darby’s reaction was anything to go by, the article would garner a lot of readers.

 
; Was that the point of it?

  Or was it real?

  Darby pulled up the writing programs. Articles. Different style. Not as personal, although still fun. More informative. She gave the reader the sense he was the one experiencing the adventure himself.

  Talented writer. Like Jen.

  Was the blog post real?

  Darby opened an article on wolves and he braced himself. But, instead of spreading the fear she’d felt, instead of perpetuating rumors and lies, Myla brought the reader in and made them empathize with the wolves.

  She made the reader smile along with her as she exposed her initial misgivings. Her research packed a wallop. She called for action at the end. Positive action.

  Not like Jen.

  Darby kept clicking but Sawyer zoned out. Like Jen or not like Jen? Real or fake? Love or not?

  “This might be something, Sawyer. Look here.”

  Winter is full of fairy tale settings—both the good and the bad. If you’re not careful, if you don’t know what you’re doing, that pile of snow could hold a deadly trap. But if you’re prepared—if you trust your handy-dandy guide—that pile of snow can be brushed back to reveal a wolf’s den or a bird’s nest or an ice palace hidden beneath a stream.

  Take a hike. Take a breath. Take a chance.

  Paradise is waiting for you.

  Paradise.

  Before he’d overreacted to that hunter’s shot, she’d called the view of the bluff paradise.

  Is that where she’d gone?

  Only one way to find out.

  #blastfromthepast

  Everything hurt. Myla was used to aches and pains but this was new. As was the fuzziness in her brain and the queasiness in her stomach.

  In self-defense, she kept her eyes closed and slowed her breathing, hoping she wouldn’t vomit.

  Memory returned with a crash. Crazy lady with a gun.

  Time to move.

  But as Myla opened her eyes and tried to shove to her feet, she wasn’t able to go far.

  She was tied to a tree with her hands bound behind her back.

  Her heart pounded and the panic had her almost passing out. She needed help. She needed Sawyer but he didn’t know where she was or that she needed help. She’d have to save herself.

  To do that, she’d have to stop freaking out. Sawyer wouldn’t freak out. Not a single, solitary freak.