Page 15 of Hearts Don't Lie

Piñon Ridge…

It was evident from the moment Hardin stepped inside Elevation Outfitters that the owners had a passion for the outdoors. He knew his way around a sports store, but one focused almost solely on outdoor gear and equipment? Not so much.

An attractive, athletically lean brunette came up to him. She was very much the epitome of an accomplished outdoorswoman. “Hi. Can I help you?”

As he removed his sunglasses, Hardin offered her the paper on which Cori had scribbled the list of items he would need.

“Oh my God! You look like Hardin Ambrose,” she said, taking a step back, then wagging her head back and forth as if disbelieving who she was seeing, her brown ponytail swishing about like a horse’s tail. “You can’t be though.” She stepped closer and ogled him. “Right?”

He vacillated only for a moment. How to play this? Large bills filled his wallet. Surely he could pay for whatever he needed without using a credit card. He had one focus. Time with Mac. Hardin squinted at her. “Who?”

“I’m sorry. Of course you can’t be him.” She continued talking nervously. “You could be his twin though. It’s unbelievable how much you look like him. He’s an American soccer player, as in among the best. I watch him play all the time. Plays for Spain. You might say I’m a soccer geek. Played through college. Do you play soccer?” She smiled brightly and barked a laugh. “Sorry. That was rude. Never thought I could be starstruck. We get everyone in here. Hollywood peeps. Tech millionaires.” She inhaled deeply and then extended her hand. “I’m Veronica Chastain. Ronni. My family owns Elevation.”

“Nice place,” he said, looking around the large store. Brick walls and rough plank floors anchored the space while an exposed high ceiling and rustic industrial fixtures gave the store an inviting, hip vibe. Oversized windows and suspended metal lamps provided ample light in what would have been a dark space. He didn’t offer his name but nodded at the paper in Ronni’s hand. “Cori sent me down to buy those items.”

“Intrepid’s the best.” Ronni scanned the paper. “Let’s get you taken care of. Follow me. I’ll help you pick out a backpack first. Where’re you headed?”

“A three-day excursion. Elks Pass and Chasm Incline.”

“That’s an incredibly demanding hike. I hope you’re as fit as you look.”

Hardin couldn’t help himself. A cocky grin broke over his face, but he said nothing.

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You’re a seasoned hiker,” she stated.

“Nope.”

She stopped and turned. Her hazel eyes raked over him, then dropped, sweeping over his well-worn hiking boots. “You haven’t hiked in those?”

“Nope,” he said, smirking. “I wear them because I like how they look and feel.”

“Okay. You picked out one of the best pair of boots, and they’re decently broken-in, so you had me fooled. They’ll serve you well on your trip.” Ronni spun around and moved toward a corner of the store at a brisk pace. “Do you have a budget in mind?”

“I have no idea what it takes to outfit me. I want the most functional, best performing.”

“I’ll show you a number of options. Who’s guiding?”

“Mac.”Shit.“Uh, no. Kenna.”

If Ronni had noticed his slipup, she made no mention of it. “Kenna’s a beast. She’ll put you through your paces.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means be prepared. She’s one of the best guides in Peaks County, but she’ll also compete with you if you’re as fit as you seem to think. If you challenge her.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I live for a challenge.”

A broad smile broke out over Hardin’s face, rendering Ronni speechless. She handed the first pack to him to try on.

Properly outfitted for his adventure with Mac, Hardin went back to the Urban and dropped off his purchases, then went out in search of lunch. Much of downtown Piñon Ridge was designated a National Historic District and was reminiscent of the small quaint villages in Europe he escaped to when there were breaks in his schedule. The feel of the picturesque town was laid-back yet vibrant.

He strolled past buildings that had stood for over one hundred years and others that were newer, designed to reflect Piñon Ridge’s historic character. Occasionally, Hardin stopped at a restaurant and checked out the lunch menu posted outside. Not satisfied, his search continued, taking him past the art district. The doors to the Hazy Rebel Brewing Company were wide open, inviting him to look clear through the dark rustic interior to the back where a large deck overlooked the water. After reading the menu, he noted a few items that interested him along with the handcrafted beer. He was on the early side for lunch, so the host showed him immediately to a small table in the dappled shade under the pergola.

He ordered the special—a brisket sandwich, fries and coleslaw, along with the restaurant’s flagship beer, a lager made exclusively with German malt and noble hops that the host assured him finished clean and crisp. It came immediately and Hardin took a deep sip. It was delicious, light, and refreshing. He nursed it while waiting on his food, knowing full well that drinking too much would enhance the effects of the time difference between Spain and Colorado. He certainly didn’t want that on top of the altitude change. He also planned to pack this afternoon for the trip and be in bed early.

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