Page 9 of Married in Misty Mountain

Hurley Hanlon had asked me to go eat dinner with him, and I’d turned him down.

Is it possible that was him watching me from the street?

But why?

Unless…unless he knows who I am.

But no, that’s impossible. There’s no way he can see through my disguise. And even if my hair was still brown, my eyes still green, and I didn’t wear makeup, he probably doesn’t remember me. Or the awful nickname he gave me.

The next morning, I dress in my most practical yet professional outfit in my meager wardrobe: a beat-up pair of jeans that happen to be the only ones I own not ripped at the knee, and a plain tee-shirt that hits me right at the waist. If I raise my arms over my head, a person can see my entire tummy, so I’ll have to be careful about that. Maybe Jack will give me an apron or a uniform to wear over it.

My new boss doesn’t comment on my outfit, only congratulates me on a job well done. He informs me that I’m officially hired as the store’s new assistant manager.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have much work for you today, but Hurley told me he could use an extra pair of hands on his wilderness excursion,” Jack says.

Wilderness excursion?

“I’m really more of an indoor cat,” I say.

Jack chuckles. “You’ll be in good hands. Hurley’s a professional. He doesn’t say much, but he’s good at everything he puts his hands to.”

I have no idea why my brain automatically goes to a dirty place when Jack mentions Hurley’s hands. I certainly have no idea why I’m blushing, either.

“Professional? He’s certainly very…assertive.”

“Oh, so you’ve met him,” Jack says with a sly grin that I don’t know how to process.

“Last night. He gave me the fright of my life, and I almost called you to tell you we had an intruder at the store.”

Jack winces and slaps his forehead. “Oh, shoot. Sorry about that, Mildred. I should have warned you. Hurley shows up sometimes when you least expect it.”

“I’ll say.”

The last thing I want to do is go camping with Hurley Hanlon. For no other reason than the longer we hang around each other, the more likely he is to remember who I am.

The bell rings, and a shadow crosses the room as someone with big, heavy feet enters the store. I’m afraid to turn around.

“There he is now,” Jack says. “Whatever you need for the overnight trip, feel free to borrow from the rental supplies. And take whatever food you need. On the house.”

“Overnight?”

“Yeah. Did I not mention that?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“If you’d rather not do it, I suppose I could show you how we do the inventory spreadsheets, but that can wait for another day. Hurley was really insistent that he needed some help today. I hope that’s okay,” Jack explains.

I really do not want to screw up this job, so I bite my lip and give my best brave nod.

Guess I’m going camping.

Jack busies himself with a confused customer, so I set my sights on asking Hurley what I need to pack for this overnight trip. I’m not much of a hiker, so hopefully, I won’t have to buy new shoes.

But before I can get some clarification from Hurley, I step back when I hear the amount of money he quotes to the couple standing in front of him.

“You charge how much for one overnight trip? You wouldn’t consider a newlywed discount?” asks the man.

Hurley stares down at the couple in their matching designer outdoor gear.

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