Page 6 of Canadian Wild: Love

He flushes and his eyes light up. “Not yet but I wish. I think she might be a bit older than me and she’s skittish. Pretty though and smart. American.”

Grimacing, I sigh again, running my hand over the short-cropped sides of my dark hair. “Of course she is.”

Only an American would wander way off the trail to do something asinine. She probably was trying to take the perfect selfie with her damn phone and fell over a fucking cliff.

“I’ll let you know when I find her.”

“Thank you, man. I haven’t even been back yet. I called one of the other guides to come get the rest of them and take them backand I’ve been searching for her, calling for her but I just can’t find her.”

“I’ll find her but do me a favor and go back to the inn. I don’t want to be searching for two people tonight.”

“You got it,” he says with a smirk and for some reason, even though I usually like the guy…I really want to punch him. Weird.

I grab my go bag that I keep in the closet by the door, ready to head out on a moment’s notice in an emergency. Like a stupid lost hiker.

With one quick look around to make sure that I’ve got everything secure, I throw my pack on my back and slam the damn door behind me.

Lord save me from foolish women that can’t stay with a big fucking group of people to save their lives.

Lightning cracks overhead as I stalk into the woods and I pull my slicker over my head just in time. The promised rain sheets down on me and it’s like I’m sucking in water every time I take a breath of frosty air.

Rolling my eyes, I grumble under my breath. “Perfect. Just fucking perfect.”

Pulling out my phone and the information I asked for, I stalk down the path, my eyes on the trail, searching for anything out of place. Anything that’s been disturbed by something bigger than a damn rabbit.

Up and down the trail, I search, my eyes getting more and more tired, my body slumping as I feel more and more of my forty-three years catching up with me.

“I’m gettin’ too old for this shit,” I mumble.

But I keep searching and after three hours, I find what I think might be my first sign of her.

But if it’s her, she’s way off the trail and heading straight up the damn mountain.

Another hour and I’m almost positive it’s her. The only problem is that the rain has been a fucking deluge for hours now and the trails are washing out. The ground is saturated and I’m struggling to keep on my feet. I can only guess how she’s doing now.

At one point, I realize that I must be catching up to her since I find a small boot print that must be her and it’s not washed away completely yet.

“Lizzie! Are you here? Where are you? I’m here to help you! George sent me!” I’m hoping she at least recognizes the guide’s name and comes out of hiding.

Nothing. I stop for a second and there’s no sound but the wind whipping over me and the rush of the nearby creek leading up into the lake that Carter Creek is fed by further up the mountain.

Slipping and falling to my knees as I make a quick move, I jerk upwards again and struggle to my feet, wincing as I feel a sharp sting in my ankle.

“Fucking hell. Just what I don’t need.” If it’s a sprain it’s a slight one. I just need to be careful and get it wrapped as soon as I can.

My head jerks up when there’s a sharp crack and a shrill scream ahead of me.

“Shit!” I holler and wincing, I race as fast as I can up the steep incline, praying that I don’t have to take a body back. I’ve had to do that and I hate it.

“Dammit!” I hear a sharp holler and a smile curls my lips.

“Well she ain’t dead yet,” I say, smiling. There’s something about her voice that makes me shiver and I push that thought aside. She’s as good as taken if George wants her and with my past, there’s no way in hell I’d touch another man’s woman.

Besides, I’m just not interested. I’ve got my total freedom at this point. The bitch can’t even bother me anymore and I’m free and clear and I’m keeping it that way.

All those thoughts go through my mind until I finally find her and my heart almost stops in my chest. She’s beautiful. Even covered in mud and with her hair slicked back to her head like a wet seal she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Her hair is wet and dark, her skin is like pure white snow at the top of the mountain. Her eyes. Well, I can’t see her eyes because she’s got tinted glasses on. Which makes no sense. It’s not bright out. Only idiots wear sunglasses at night.

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