Page 24 of Just Act Natural

I wavemy hand at the freaky rocks and skinny trees around us.

“You’re doing research?”

“I could just Google ‘central Oregon hikes that make you want to pass out from exhaustion,' but I’m hoping the first-hand experience will provide an edge when I give my presentation.”

“That’s a good idea. What else is on your list to get first-hand experience with?”

“Just this.” A five-day hike is plenty. Isn’t it? I chew the inside of my lip. “Do you think I should do more?”

“Couldn’t hurt. There’s a lot in this area to enjoy. Mountain biking, fishing, kayaking, rafting. And that’s just summer activities.”

My hopeful little heart deflates. Arranging this hike had seemed like such a genius move a few weeks ago. Get a little one-on-one time with nature and prove to the council I’m committed to the cause. Now, I’m having second thoughts about how much difference a single hike will make. I don’t know the first thing about any of that other stuff either, and my winter experiences aren’t any better.

Unless sitting in a ski lodge sipping hot cider while the rest of your group tackles the slopes counts. Which I doubt.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to criticize.” Grant’s got his look of concern on, like I’m covered in ants again. “It’s a good plan. When do you give your presentation?”

“In three weeks.”

“That’s plenty of time to get a few more outdoor activities in.”

I try to smile, but I’m not sure I manage it. “Yay, me.”

“Is this your job focus? Events and tourism and social media marketing?”

“Basically, aside from the tourism. That part’s new. I worked for a tech firm in Seattle for several years,but I moved back to Sunshine last winter.” And…that’s about as in-depth as I want to be. I’m really not in the mood to talk about Josh’s business or my old role in it. There’s no point in sharing how I sometimes worked sixty hours a week just to make his company look good.

Definitely don’t want to mention how I was “downsized” within twenty-four hours of breaking up with him. I was replaceable in every way.

“Seattle to Sunshine’s a big change.”

“Yeah. I’m…adapting.” I’m trying, anyway.

“What brought you back?”

“I missed my family.” I refuse to tell him the truth: that the choice stemmed from a place of total humiliation and the utter loss of almost everything I’d valued in my life. I lost my fiancé, my job, my apartment, and my friends in one fell swoop. Just your average rom-com cliché. The only thing missing was my car breaking down on my drive of shame to my hometown and getting rescued by a lumberjack.

“Change like that isn’t easy. I admire?—”

He steps closer to me and throws an arm out like he’s slammed on the brakes and he’s the only thing stopping me from flying through the windshield. In the same instant, a shadow swoops low over us. I shriek and crouch behind him, clinging to his pack.

“What is it?” I whisper.

“Just an owl.”

“But?”

“But…it landed right in front of us.”

Slowly, I peek around the edge of his pack. Not fifteen feet away in the trees sits a massive owl. Maybe it’s regular-sized, I don’t know that much about my nemeses. Either way, my bird-fearing brain concludes it’s massive, and that’s really all that matters.

“It’s staring at us.” I barely make a sound. Am I clutching Grant’s biceps again? Absolutely, I am. He’s the closest thing to a lumberjack rescue I’ve got.

“It probably has a nest nearby.”

“I know how this scenario goes. Up against a bird that big, we don’t win.” My scalp tingles with potential injuries.

“We’re just going to walk by it slowly.” He reaches across me until his hand hits my hip, like that would do anything to protect me against the bird’s pointy beak and sharp claws.

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