Sneak Peek: Rescued by the Mountain Man

Chapter One

Piper

“Can you come here for a minute?” Brock asks as he stands in the doorway of his office. My big brother is the sheriff here in South Tahoe. He’s also my boss though I don’t think of him that way.

For years, my dad was the sheriff. He proudly served the people of South Tahoe. When Brock followed in his steps and went to the police academy, he couldn’t have been prouder. Except that Brock didn’t come home right away. He spent years as a homicide detective until my dad’s sudden passing brought him home. He assumed my father’s old post and life has continued on.

I step into the cream-colored office that I updated for my father about a year before he died. He encouraged me to go after my dreams, but I could never imagine working anywhere else. So, I went to school and became a dispatcher.

Even before that, I was spending every spare minute at the station. I loved being around my dad. He always doted on me and there are still moments when I can’t believe he’s gone. It seems like a dream that I keep waiting to wake up from.

“What’s up?” I spot the pastry on the desk. I bounce over to it. This one is my favorite, the cheesecake Danish with extra filling and glaze on top. I sniff the coffee, confirming that it’s a salted caramel mocha from Patty’s Cakes, a local bakery here in town.

“Big brother wants a favor.” I take a seat across from his desk. He doesn’t have to butter me up. He only has to ask, and I’ll do anything I can to help him. But that’s not going to stop me from eating my treat.

He takes his seat across from me and watches me bite into the pastry. I know that look on his face. It’s the one he gets when he’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear. “The county has me personally reviewing the personnel records and making sure everything is updated.”

I nod along. Since Brock took over, the county is making us upgrade to digital records for everything. Dad fought them for years but with him no longer here, the task of dragging the station into the twenty-first century has fallen on my brother’s shoulders. “Do you need help with the personnel files?”

I might be a dispatcher, but I’ll do anything to keep my dad’s legacy running. From getting coffee to sweeping the floors, there’s never been a task I wouldn’t do here.

My dad always believed that the highest form of leadership was servanthood and he instilled in me from a young age that the police and other first responders are servants of the people. Maybe that’s why I’ve had such a hard time admitting that I’ve been dreaming a new dream. It’s quiet, tucked away in a corner of my heart.

“There’s a problem with your file,” he says.

“You mean with uploading it to the new system?” The salted caramel taste hits my tongue perfectly. Autumn is just around the corner, my favorite time of year.

“No, with your file. What I’m seeing says you’ve never taken a day off since you started as a volunteer at sixteen. You even came in on the day of dad’s funeral.”

“He would have wanted me to carry on,” I counter, keeping my voice even. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about working in an office full of men, it’s to keep my emotions in check. Getting angry or upset only feeds into the idea that women aren’t suited for some workplace environments. Fortunately, my brother doesn’t carry any of these sexist ideas.

Brock studies me as if he’s seeing me for the first time. Maybe he is. After all, we’re ten years apart in age. “The county owes you a lot of vacation days, and it’s time you took them.”

I finish the rest of the Danish and brush crumbs from my pants. “No, I’m good. I’m not going to crack up on you.”

My brother saw some gritty things as a homicide detective. He may not have said it all those years ago, but he was really struggling. It was why I got him into reading romance books. Something with a guaranteed happy ending can be a source of hope when life doesn’t make sense anymore. My brother even found a romance author and fell in love with her. It doesn’t get any cuter than that.

Because of his own struggles, Brock is pushing for more training and education about mental health for first responders. It’s slow going but he’s trying to raise the funding the county would need for his program.

There’s a knock on the door then Zoey pokes her head through. She’s Brock’s wife and the romance author I mentioned. She writes books about adorkable plus-size heroines who fall for strong alpha males. She’s pretty much my hero and the reason I’ve started writing my own books. They’re not very good but Zoey says to keep going. “Hey, Pipe! I’m glad you’re here! I wanted to talk to you about the lodge.”

I don’t know what lodge she’s talking about but I’m always happy to see Zoey. She’s the best sister-in-law a girl could ask for. She makes my brother smile and she’s good to my mother. Plus, she’s my friend. My really good author friend who always gets me advanced copies of the dirtiest books.

My brother’s entire expression has changed since Zoey knocked on the door. He gestures her into the room, and she skirts around his desk, catching her shoe only once.

She settles into Brock’s embrace, sitting on his lap. They fit together perfectly and I’m glad they’ve found each other.

I stand and take a step toward the door. Whatever she wanted to tell me about a lodge can wait until later. “I’ll see you two—”

“Wait,” Brock growls out. He reluctantly pulls his gaze from Zoey to me. “You’re going on vacation next week.”

“The Forever After Lodge is in Sweetheart, North Carolina,” she explains. “My bestie, Valentine says it’s beautiful. It’s the perfect place to work on that project we were talking about.”

I mentioned my latest project to Zoey a couple of weeks ago. But I’m still struggling with it. I want to write something that touches people’s hearts, that makes them remember the characters long after the book is closed.

“Thanks, but there’s still a lot to do around here,” I answer, figuring I can buy myself some time. “I’ll try to go on vacation next month.”

Brock scowls and rakes a hand through his hair. “This can either be a request from your big brother or an order from your chief. It’s time for a vacation.”

***

“This can either be a request from your big brother or an order from your chief,” I repeat the words as the tiny Fiat I borrowed from the airport chugs up the curvy mountainside road to the Forever After Lodge.

I’m not even entirely sure what I’m supposed to do on vacation.At least, I’ll have a tour guide while I’m here. Some woman named Gray who owns the lodge has promised to show me around thanks to Zoey.

My phone dings for the thirtieth time in the past three hours and I’m tempted to chuck it out the window. He wants me to go on vacation then insists that I text him every hour of my travel time. You’d think I was traveling naked to some inner city with high crime rates by the sheer number of texts and reminders my brother has sent.

I pull over on the side of the road and get out of the car. I need to stretch anyway. I dial my brother’s phone. “You’re driving me nuts,” I hiss as soon as he answers. “I thought you wanted me to relax.”

I have to concentrate to hear him because he’s breaking up. I’m only getting every other word from him. “Then answer damn phone. Could be dead. Side of the road. You didn’t. Rest area. To avoid, did you?”

This is the problem with having a brother who’s worked homicide. He’s seen too many stories with bad endings to be comfortable with me traveling alone.

“I’m not dead on the side of the road,” I mutter as I walk the dirt road. The air here is different. It’s more humid on the east coast. But there’s still the slightest nip in the air. The trees around me have already started their autumn show, the leaves turning red and gold to celebrate the cooler temperatures. “I might just come back early from my vacation to kick your ass. Now that sounds relaxing.”

“Alright, alright. Check in. Few hours,” Brock says, and I feel the briefest flicker of guilt. He’s trying to look out for me. He feels responsible for not being there when Dad died.

“I promise. Go annoy your wife,” I insist before telling him I love him and ending the call. In the silence, I tell the trees, “He worries too much.”

I walk back to the car and settle in it, checking the GPS on my phone. It loads slowly and I’m having trouble getting my data signal up here.

Fortunately, there’s only an hour or so to go up the mountain road to get to the lodge but nowhere to stop along the way. At least, being a dispatcher taught me to ignore my bladder.

Even in small, safe towns like South Tahoe, there’s a steady stream of callers. I eat most of my meals at my desk and face near constant adrenaline surges. It’s hard to do what I do but I won’t let down my dad’s memory. He deserves my very best.

With that thought, I hit the button on my key fob to star the ignition. An error message displays on the dashboard: Electronic key not detected.

I mash the key fob two more times before it becomes very clear that the message isn’t going away, and the car isn’t starting. A quick search on my phone shows that the battery in the fob has most likely died. My phone battery drops low at the same time, showing off a blinking red battery icon.

“Peachy.” This is almost as disappointing as the day my favorite toy stopped holding a charge during the steamiest scene I’d ever read.

I pocket my phone and leave the car. I’ll call the rental service in the morning and tell them to send someone to get it.

Grabbing my bag and rolling suitcase with the old, loose latch, I start walking up the mountain in the direction the GPS told me to before my phone died. The entire time I’m puffing my way up the incline, I’m muttering under my breath, “Go on vacation, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.”

I’ve been walking twenty minutes when a twig snaps. I clutch my bag tighter and glance around. Peering into the densely wooded area, I can’t see anything. But the worst call I’ve had to take suddenly runs through my mind. The woman that called begging and pleading for someone to save her. I couldn’t get help to her in time and the familiar well of tears threatens to spring up.

I swallow them down and remind myself that it’s probably just a bunny or another forest animal. It’s not like I’m unfamiliar with the woods. There’s plenty of outdoor fun to be had in South Tahoe. Except that I’m usually inside reading.

The sounds start again, louder this time. Something is definitely in those woods. Just as I’m debating whether to seek the safety of the car, a large black bear lumbers out from the trees and onto the dirt road. It’s less than twenty feet away from me and making deep grunting noises.

My mouth goes dry as the bear stands on its hind legs and begins sniffing the air. Please don’t let me smell like your next meal.

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