“Sure.” I motion toward the map rack that takes up an entire wall. “The ones marked in green are the most popular. If you’re looking for something quieter, the blue trails are a little less traveled but just as scenic.”

“And the red and orange ones?”

“Reds are more strenuous. Suited best for seasoned hikers. The orange ones are multi-day hikes.”

Donna marches to the rack and starts pulling out map after map. “Ooh, let’s do this one! No, wait, this one has a waterfall. Oh, but this one loops back to town for lunch—perfect. What do you think, Dan?”

Dan gives her an overwhelmed shrug of the shoulder, then turns to me. “What do you think?”

“Me? I’m not sure. It’s such a personal choice.” I tap my chin and think. “Why don’t you go with the Whispering Pines Trail?” I suggest, carefully removing one of the maps from the rack.

“Whispering Pines, huh? What a magical name,” Donna says as she takes the map from me. She unfolds it and shoves it under Dan’s nose. “Looks fantastic, don’t you think, honey?”

“Absolutely. A real adventure if you ask me.”

I bite back a laugh as I gently take the map from Donna and turn it around. “There you go. You had it upside down.”

“Oh, silly us.” Dan snorts.

“Anything else I can help you guys with?” I ask.

The man perks up. “Yeah, actually. What’s the deal with the museum? Is it worth checking out?”

“Absolutely,” I say. “We’ve got exhibits on local wildlife, early settler history, and even a few artifacts from the Gold Rush era. Admission is by donation.”

Donna gasps, but it’s got nothing to do with the subject of the museum. She’s already marching to another spot. “Oh my gosh, is that a stuffed grizzly bear?”

Before I can answer, she’s halfway across the room, her phone aimed at the bear statue like a weapon. Dan trails after her, peppering me with questions about trail permits, trekking poles, and bear spray. I answer them all to the best of my ability, but when he suddenly asks if I’d be willing to meet hisaccomplished single grandson,who happens to be in town later today, I’m seriously considering faking a fire drill. I’m here to help tourists, not date their grandkids.

“So, what do you say? Lunchtime work for you?” Dan asks.

He looks at me with an expression that suggests he thinks I’d seriously consider going out with his grandson.

I’m racking my brain for a polite yet firm excuse to remove myself from this awkward and inappropriate conversation when I hear the familiar creak of the front door. Good, another tourist. That’ll get me away from Dan’s inappropriate matchmaking.

But when I turn around, my heart sinks in my chest, and my smile falters. It’s not a tourist. It’s Sawyer—a walking mountain man cliché with his thick beard, piercing blue eyes, broad shoulders, flannel shirt, and denim pants. Not to mention the bane of my existence.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says, leaning casually against the counter like he owns the place.

I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you want, Sawyer?”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he drawls. “Just here with a question.” His eyes flick to Dan, who’s still waiting for my answer. “Busy, or do you have a second?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” I tell Dan, relieved that I have an out, even though it means having to talk to Sawyer.

I arch an eyebrow. “Can I help you with something, or are you just here to track dirt all over my polished floors again?”

He grins, and his annoyingly gorgeous eyes light up. “Come on, Reese. This is a mountain town frequented by hikers. Surely these floors have seen their fair share of dirt.”

“They do every time you walk in,” I bite back.

Dan clears his throat behind me, clearly not ready to let me off the hook yet. “So, about you going out with my grandson today. Did I mention he’s an accomplished lawyer? He makes good money. You won’t ever have to worry about finances again if you marry him.”

I give Dan a horrified look. “Marry him?”

“Well, not right away, of course, but maybe in a few months or—”

“Sorry,” Sawyer cuts in. “Don’t mean to interrupt, but Reese promised she’d help me out this morning.”