Page 34 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

Evie reaches the antlers, then sits on her butt and holds them over her head. “Success!”

I raise the antlers I have and return her loud whisper, “Success!”

Then I back out of the spot I’m in, so Evie has room to back out of hers.

I join Zach on the trail and Evie makes her way to both of us. Her cheeks are flushed pink from the effort, and her eyes shine darker. Is that a thing? They remind me of a sky filled with stars but no moon. So blue they’re almost black, but still warm.

“If there were any deer still around when we got here, there aren’t anymore.” Zach smiles and shoves his hands into his coat pockets. He’s trying to not to shiver. He never could take the cold for long.

“That’s okay. We got what we came for.” Evie takes the antlers from my hand and holds the pair together. “These are perfect.”

“Do you only need one set? That’s a big rack.” I measure one of the smaller tines with my finger. “You’ve got a ten-pointer. I don’t know if we’ll get that lucky twice, but I know a couple other places we can try.”

Evie looks at the sky. The sun grazes the tops of the mountains to the west. Too soon, it will dip behind them. “It’ll be dark soon, won’t it? Can we come back another day?”

“Sure. Let us carry those.” I reach for the antlers and hand one to Zach.

We make our way back in the direction we came, but there’s no silence this time. Evie is asking a million questions about how to determine how many points on a buck to what killing one is like.

“I didn’t like it,” Zach says. “That’s Adam and Dad’s thing, but I enjoy venison.”

“You don’t feel bad killing something that... majestic, Adam?” If her tone were anything other than curious, I’d be offended by her question, but there’s no judgment in her voice.

“I look at it more as honoring nature and the circle of life,” I answer. “If there are too many deer, they fight for resources and starve. When they’re malnourished, they don’t grow the kind of rack you found. That rack is a sign of a healthy herd, which means everything is in balance.” We step out of the thicket and the valley lays below us, and it takes my breath away like it’s the first time I’ve seen the place I’ve called home my entire life.

I stop, and Zach and Evie follow my lead. Smuk Lake looks ice blue from this height. The flat-topped mountains on the opposite side circle the lake in gray while the sun crowns them in pink clouds. I take a deep breath. “There’s nothing like this in New York.”

“True,” Evie says. “I forgot you went to culinary school there. CIA, right?”

I nod. If she knows the acronym for the Culinary Institute of America, then she knows how prestigious it is.

“No wonder you’re so good! When did you graduate? Were we living in New York at the same time? How weird would that be?” She bombards me with an avalanche of questions, and suddenly I can’t breathe.

“About a year ago. Probably. Weird.” I keep my answers short and walk faster, but so does Evie. There’s no escaping her or the questions that bring up memories of Dakota that I’d rather leave behind.

When she asks, “If you love it so much, what made you leave here?” The emphasis she puts onheremakes me stop.

I can’t run from Evie’s other questions. If Georgia or someone else hasn’t already told her the story, then it’s better she hears my version first. The short version. She can get the details from someone else.

“I followed my fiancée—ex-fiancée—to college in Utah, then to New York. I went there for her. I went to CIA because I like to cook, it was there, and I didn’t know what else I was going to do while Dakota worked all day. And night. But Ialwaysknew I’d come back here.” My voice is tight and controlled. This is all Evie will get from me, ever, about Dakota, so I let it all out. “I never would have left if not for Dakota. You see it. It’s literally Paradise.” I sweep my arms, including the antlers, across the valley.

Her eyes close in one long blink. When she opens them again, there’s an even deeper warmth in their darkness. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t ask personal questions.”

I should wrap myself in that warmth, but it scares me. “No reason to be sorry. Things happen. I don’t want your pity.”

Evie blinks again. “I don’t remember offering you any pity. All I wanted to do is get to know you a little better, Neighbor.”

She steps around me and makes her way down the trail, and I realize I’ve been rude to her again. I should stop her and apologize, but I don’t. My truck is just visible in the distance, so it’s not like she’ll get lost. And I need time and space to walk off my embarrassment.

Zach skirts around me to follow Evie, slapping me on the back as he passes. “Time to move on, bro.” He wags his chin toward Evie. “And she’s a good place to start.”

That’s one thing I can agree with him about. As long as I haven’t just screwed up any chance I might have with her.

Chapter 17

Evie

Is the ride back to the condo uncomfortable after Adam got all weird and rude? Maybe for him. I have ade-lightfultime talking to Zach. He tells me all the places I need to check out for the best views of the lake, shows me where they used to go foraging for Paradise’s famous huckleberries, and points out the falling-down barn that he and Georgia graffitied as teenagers.

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