Page 60 of Protective Heroes

My confidence carried me through my morning ritual—shower and careful makeup application, and choosing an appropriate outfit—and down to the lodge’s dining room. It might have faltered just a bit when I realized my careful clothing choice of black skinny trousers, black fitted sweater and red flats were a bit of a stretch. What seemed like the perfect business casual outfit for a professional woman while I was in my room, it stuck out like a sore thumb in the lodge dining room. Seven years was a long time away from the mountain. I looked like exactly what I was—a city girl in the wilderness.

I was also the only woman in the packed dining room. Almost a dozen men, all dressed for a day in the outdoors, sat shoulder to shoulder around several large round dining tables. I paused in the doorway. I could almost feel my confidence leaching out of me.

“Good morning!”

I turned to see Mrs. Morgan, the owner of the lodge, bearing down on me, a pot of coffee in her hand.

Relief poured through me at the sight of the other woman. I mentally rolled my eyes at myself. I was a strong, confident woman, for goodness sake. Why on earth was a room full of men getting me so rattled?

But I knew the answer. It wasn’t the men on their own. It was the men, and this place, and the fear of what could be lurking anywhere outside the doors of the lodge.

I pasted on a smile and gave myself one more mental reminder about why I was here.

“Morning, Mrs. Morgan! You’re just the person I was hoping to see.” And as I spoke the words, I realized they were true. Who better to give me advice about wedding planning than a local who hosts tourists on a regular basis? I might have grown up here but my younger self didn’t pay attention to all the good spots. I was more about boys, books and mascara. One particular boy to be exact. A senior while I was a junior. The bad boy type my momma tried to warn me about time and time again.

She was right. He broke my damn heart.

The older woman flashed me a warm, familiar smile but didn’t pause as she moved toward the table. “Aren’t you sweet? Come sit by me, sweetheart, and have some breakfast before these men eat it all. Let’s visit a bit. How’s the big city treating you? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

She waved me over. By the time I reached the table, Mrs. Morgan had already topped off coffee cups and settled herself at a seat at a small two-seater table with fresh flowers in a tiny vase in the middle.

“Right here, Miss Mackenzie. We’ll get a nice hearty breakfast in you.” Mrs. Morgan patted the seat of the empty chair directly to her left.

The older woman’s voice wasn’t overly loud, but it carried across the room and was just enough to make every head turn in my direction.

If I hadn’t been uncomfortable already, suddenly finding myself the center of attention of so many male eyes did the trick. I slowly pulled air into my lungs. I offered up the best smile I could muster and squared my shoulders as I followed Mrs. Morgan’s instructions.

I can do this. I slid into the seat and pulled the napkin off the table to place it on my lap.

“Good morning.” I let my gaze slide over the men and did my best to sound professional and upbeat as I spoke.

I got some head nods and jovial good mornings in return. It was only as the clinking of forks on plates and the swell of deep voices picked up again that I realized how quiet they had all gotten when Mrs. Morgan alerted them to my presence.

“Judging by the duds you have on, I guess it’s safe to assume you won’t be joining us on our fishing expedition,” the man seated across from me stated with a friendly grin.

I smiled back, shaking my head. “I’m afraid not. I have to work today.”

“Coffee, dear?” Mrs. Morgan held up the pot and I nodded.

“That’s too bad,” the man said. “Would have been nice to have you along instead of having to stare at all these ugly mugs all afternoon.” He jutted his chin to indicate the men around the table who all looked excited about their recent retirements if my assumptions were correct. None of them looked older than my dad.

I laughed and felt the ball of anxiety that formed as I walked into the room start to ease.

“Let’s get you some eggs.” Mrs. Morgan reached for a platter and like magic within seconds, a heaping plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, homemade hashbrowns, and biscuits landed in front of me.

My eyes grew wide. “Oh my goodness, this looks delicious, but I don’t think I could possibly eat all of this.” As if on cue, my stomach gave a loud growl, giving lie to my words.

Mrs. Morgan patted my hand. “You might surprise yourself. You know the air here helps you work up an appetite.”

“I’ll do my best to do this food justice.” I dug into my breakfast and after the first bite, had to fight to keep from shoveling it in. Mrs. Morgan was right. I was unusually ravenous and the simple breakfast tasted like a gourmet meal.

“Too bad you have to work,” the man across from me said. “I hope you have a little time while you’re here to enjoy the outdoors.”

I managed not to flinch at the thought. “I’m afraid my stay is mostly for business. I’ll be scouting out some potential spots for a wedding.”

“You getting married?” he asked.

“No, not me.” I paused to take a bite of crispy bacon. “I’m a wedding planner. My clients wanted an outdoor wedding and fell in love with my home town, so my only time I spend outside will be to find locations for a ceremony and reception.”

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