Page 3 of The Maverick of the Mountain
“Difficult bride?”
As if on cue, my phone vibrates in my purse, and I glance at it. My blood pressure’s already rising. I’ll be sweating pretty soon if that thing keeps ringing.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“Well, I have the perfect thing to keep your mind off it. You don’t have a gluten allergy by chance, do you?”
I narrow my eyes as I turn to meet Jade’s gaze. “No…”
“Great!” She claps her hands once. “I’ll be right back.”
Jade excuses herself, and my phone buzzes with a voicemail. At least it’s not a rambling voice memo sent over text. Those are always my favorites.
I sigh, watching as Jade speaks with a woman perched on a stool at the counter. I wonder if it will be some of that cobbler I hear so much about. A dollop of vanilla ice cream. That could take my mind off Mackenzie. Maybe?—
I swallow hard. That mountain man… Maverick? He’s staring right at me. Good lord, he’s handsome. Rugged. A beard so thickI’m surprised birds haven’t nested in it. I can’t see the color of his eyes from this distance, but I feel their intensity all over my body. Even when he finally turns, smiling and talking with his daughter, I can still feel the aftereffects. My entire body is tingling. Hopefully, it’s not a stroke…
I glance at Candy. “What? He started it.” I swallow hard, looking out the window as I slide my hands over my arms. Goosebumps.Again.Remind me to book an appointment with my doctor. There’s clearly something wrong with my body.
I take a few centering breaths and focus on the mountains. The drizzle hasn’t turned to rain, so maybe I’ll be able to head up there after lunch. I could use the fresh air. It feels a little humid in here, thanks to?—
“Jade tells me you’re a photographer,” a woman says gruffly, jolting me out of my head.
I turn and find a short, stout woman who’s barely taller than me, even though I’m sitting, scowling at me. Her hands, perched on her hips, look like they’re made out of leather. Short, wispy gray strands of hair fly out at all angles—the rest are begrudgingly held back in a red bandana that matches her flannel shirt. Jean shorts. Well-worn, hefty boots. No nonsense face. I think I’d rather take one of those mountain men in a bare-knuckle brawl over this woman any day of the week.
I swallow. “T-that’s right.”
I glance past her, hoping to catch Jade’s eye, but she’s focused on another table.
“That’s wonderful!” she says, her resting scowl dissolving as she slides into the chair across from me. “I’m Marge, owner of the Hungry Hiker, but I really think of myself as a creative type like yourself.” She turns toward the dining room.
“Oh, oh yes. I see that. You’ve got a real... creative flair. A unique taste I’ve never seen anywhere else.”
She beams at me, and I can’t help but smile back.
“Well, I won’t take up your time. I wanted to drop off our signature dessert since Jade is busy.”
“Thank you,” I say, finally looking at my plate. This slice of cake ishefty—five layers at least.
“Roy’s Hazelnut Hiker.”
I take a bite and— “Wow…” I mutter reflexively, the taste of heaven still dancing in my mouth. “Thank Roy for me because that is amazing!”
Marge smiles, fingering the locket around her neck. “Will do.”
I can’t help but take another glance at the mountain man. He’s still smiling, laughing with his daughter. Completely oblivious to the creeper daydreaming about him from across the room.
I sigh, turning to the mountain view again.
Maybe I’ll find asinglemountain man out there.
“Areyou sure this map is accurate?”
I stare at the “map” in front of me. Much like the “FREE STICKS” sign, the map is scrawled on the back of a kid’s menu. Thankfully, Marge has been kind enough to sketch out her map with a ballpoint pen rather than a crayon this time.
But it’s not exactly helpful, even with her included notes.
Look for George Washington’s nose and take a right. Ahardright.If you pass the roaming band of chipmunks, you’ve gone too far. And it’s probably too late. Anyway…
