by Emily March
He wanted what they represented—a whole, healthy, healed heart able to love once again.
Until now, his attempts to find love again had proved unsuccessful. He’d begun to fear it simply wasn’t in the cards for him. Then Thursday night, he’d told Celeste about the baby, and she’d told him to be a light.
The baby. Be a light. Okay, the two really weren’t difficult to connect once he’d cleared the cobwebs from his brain. Being a light to this baby was how his heart would finally heal.
So Boone needed to be a light to … whom? What was he going to name this child? He really needed a name for the little guy.
Aware that he was coming up on the turnout to Lover’s Leap, he recalled the careless tourist. He really, really hoped that whoever traveled with her had convinced her to stay away from the edge.
Probably wouldn’t hurt to check. He could call the tourists’ attention to the warning signs and mention how a moment of carelessness last summer had tragically cost a hiker his life. Who knows, that bit of good work might be a notch for his “Be a light” meter.
Moments later, he spied a car parked at the Lover’s Leap pull-off. He parked his Ducati beside it and climbed off his bike.
That’s when he got his first good look at the woman and realized he’d been wrong about her being a careless tourist. Boone recognized despair and desperation. He’d seen it in witnesses. He’d seen it in the courtroom. He’d seen it in his own wife’s expression.
He saw it now in this woman’s big luminous violet eyes. Despair, desperation, and brittle hopelessness.
This was no careless hiker.
This woman was a jumper.
Chapter Three
As the motorcycle approached, Hannah stepped back from the edge of the cliff, took a seat atop the stone wall, and tried to look like a regular tourist. With any luck, the rider would blast on past.
As to be expected, she had no luck. The motorcycle pulled off the road and into the Lover’s Leap parking area.
Suddenly, Hannah became aware of her isolation. This was the first vehicle she’d seen on this road this morning. Nonchalantly, she shifted her legs back over the wall, rose, and reached for the backpack she’d left lying on the ground. Experience had taught her to keep her gun accessible. Harming herself was one thing. Someone else doing harm was another matter entirely.
The motorcycle was a Ducati, the figure a man. He wore faded jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, and a black leather jacket. Hannah unzipped her backpack and slipped her hand inside as he climbed off the bike and removed his helmet. He was tall, well over six feet, and model-handsome. Dark hair, chiseled cheekbones, a nose with a small bump that suggested a break at some point. Intense silver-gray eyes paused on her briefly before sliding on toward the view of the valley below.
He didn’t look like a killer. Neither had Andrew.
Hannah gripped her 9mm.
The guy only murmured and nodded her way as he strode past her to step over the wall the way she had a few minutes earlier. Whoa. Hope this guy didn’t have the same idea she had. Hey, I got here first.
She watched him move toward the edge without hesitation. Nervous, she called out, “Mister? Aren’t you getting a little close to the edge?”
He ignored her. Hannah tried again. “Hello! Mister? Please don’t go any closer to the edge.”
He finally looked around. He stood directly between Hannah and the drop-off. “I’m sorry. Are you talking to me?”
“Well, yes. It’s just the two of us here.”
“Oh.” He glanced around, then gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I’m preoccupied.”
“Would you please step away from the edge? You’re scaring me.” He was maybe two of his long-legged steps away from a fall. “You’re not planning to jump, are you?”
“Jump?” His brows arched in surprise. “Why would you think that? Do I look suicidal?”
“I don’t know. Does suicidal have a look?”
His silver-gray eyes pinned her. “Sometimes, yes, it does.”
Whoa. Hannah blinked. He sounded like he spoke from experience.
“The trouble is that many times, it’s hard as hell to spot,” he continued. “That’s a sad thing, because the destruction that suicide leaves in its wake for families and friends is horrific and immense. I don’t care how bad things are, suicide is not a solution. It’s never a solution.”
“Not everybody has a family.” Hannah felt compelled to defend herself.
“Doesn’t matter. Suicides touch people they never know. Believe me. I have some experience with this.”
Bingo. Hannah frowned in disgust. “So if you’re not trying to kill yourself, then you must be stupid.”
“Excuse me?”
“Why else are you standing so close to the diving board?”
“What diving board?”
She let go of her gun and felt around inside her backpack for the tourist map. She pulled it out and waved it toward his face. Suddenly, he grinned, and the force of it had Hannah swaying backward. This guy wasn’t just run-of-the-mill handsome. He was hot. The kind of guy that stopped you in your tracks hot. Mesmerizing eyes that glimmered with both intelligence and sincere gentleness that gave her chest a tight tug. She hadn’t noticed a man as a man in a million years, but she couldn’t help but notice this one.
“You have my map,” he said, striding toward her.
Her gaze landed on his ringless left hand for a millisecond. “Your map?”
“Well, the chamber’s map. The Eternity Springs Chamber of Commerce had it produced. I’m president this year.” He stuck out his hand. “Boone McBride. Welcome to Eternity Springs.”
She accepted his handshake. “Hannah Dupree.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Dupree. Mind if I ask where you picked up the map?” She told him, and he nodded. “The state’s official welcome centers are awesome. If I can answer any questions you have about Eternity Springs or the area, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you.”
He stepped back toward the edge, then glanced at her over his shoulder and gave his head a jerk. “Come look. This is the best view you’ll find. You can see the entire valley and all of the lake from here. As long as you’re not careless, it’s plenty safe to stand here.”
She hesitated. He absolutely could be a murderer ready to take advantage of the isolation to push her off the mountain. Just because he’s drop-dead gorgeous doesn’t mean that he can’t be a serial killer. Ted Bundy, anyone?
Nevertheless, she stepped up beside him. He pointed south.
Hannah’s breath caught. Sunlight glittered like diamonds on the surface of a sapphire lake shaped like a kidney bean and snuggled at the southern end of the valley. “Hummingbird Lake. The name rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? It’s pretty.”
“It’s my happy place,” Boone observed.
“The lake?”
“The lake, the town, the whole area. I have a friend who refers to it as a little piece of heaven in the Colorado Rockies. I can’t argue with her. When I came here five years ago, I was beaten and battered and close to being broken. Eternity Springs healed me.”
He sat cross-legged and gestured for her to join him. Again, Hannah hesitated. Again, she acquiesced to his request. She wasn’t certain why. She did not strike up conversations with strangers. Beyond placing an order with a server in a restaurant or the minimal exchange with the reception desk clerk when she checked into a hotel, she did not have conversations, period.
Maybe that was exactly why she sat down beside him. Maybe part of Hannah yearned to have some contact with another human after being so solitary for so long.
“So what brings you up to Lover’s Leap so early on a summer morning?” he asked. “Did you come up to watch the sunrise?”
She parsed her words. “I was here for the sunrise from here this morning.”
“This is one of the best spots around to watch the sun come up. For sunsets, I’ll recommend a porch rocker at Cavanaugh House.”
; “Where is that?”
He pointed toward the town. “There. On the far side of the creek. The big yellow mansion snuggled up against the mountain. See?”
Hannah believed he pointed toward a large Victorian house on the far side of the creek that ran through town. “I noticed that on your map. I thought it was called something else, though.”
“It’s Angel’s Rest on the map. Angel’s Rest Healing Center and Spa. My friend Celeste Blessing bought the property and has built a fabulous business that brought the town back from the brink of bankruptcy. She’s restored Cavanaugh House, the home of one of the original founders of the town. Now it serves as the main building of what is a sprawling luxury resort. Angel’s Rest is a great place to stay if you’re looking.”
“I actually called there yesterday and tried to rent a room. They’re booked up.”
“Summertime.” He winced and nodded. “Plus, we have a big destination wedding here this weekend. A whole bunch of folks are coming in for it from out of town. If you don’t already have a reservation, finding a room might be tough.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll just keep moving.”
“You’re traveling alone?”
This time rather than hesitate, she speared him with a look. “Is that a question an intelligent woman would answer? Tell me you’re not on the top ten list of charming serial killers.”
“So you think I’m charming?” His grin went a bit wicked.
“I think I’m probably acting too trusting.” His line about beaten and battered and close to being broken had lured her as sure as wisteria blossoms do bees.
“You have a point,” he agreed. “Okay, more about me in an effort to put your fears to rest.” He leaned up on his hip and pulled his wallet from the pocket of his jeans. He flipped it open and fished inside. “Here’s my card.”
Hannah accepted the plain white card with black printing and read it. TIMBERLAKE AND MCBRIDE, ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
“I’ve heard all the lawyer jokes, so spare me.”
Quietly, she said, “Actually, I have a lot of respect for attorneys.”
“Do you, now?” he said with approval in his tone. “That’s a pleasant change from what I usually hear. Yes, I’m a lawyer, and before moving to Eternity Springs, I was a district attorney in Fort Worth, so I’m on the white-hat side of things when it comes to killers. Now, however, the bulk of my practice consists of mostly of drafting and reviewing contracts. I’m single, love a good rib eye, fast cars, college football, and bespoke suits. I just moved into a new home on Hummingbird Lake, and I’ll be standing as co-best-man along with my cousin Tucker at our cousin Jackson’s wedding on Saturday. That’s the destination wedding I mentioned. They all still live in Texas.”
Trying to process all the information, Hannah said the first thing that popped into her mind. “So what brings you to Lover’s Leap so early this morning?”
“Well, you want the long answer or the short?”
“Either is fine.”
“Let’s go with short. I have a serious life decision pending, and this is a good, contemplative place. I need to pick a name.”
“A name for what?”
“I’m adopting…” He hesitated a moment before completing his sentence. “A dog. A pup.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Boy.”
“What breed?”
“Irish setter. A friend of mine’s dog recently had a litter. I need to come up with a name for him. I’m really not sure where to start. I’ve never done this before.”
“He’ll be your first pet?”
Boone shook his head. “The first name I picked all on my own. It’s a lot of responsibility. If I get it wrong, it’ll follow him the rest of his life.”
“Ah. I see.” Part of her wondered if he was putting her on, but she didn’t think so. He seemed sincere, and his concern for his pet was endearing. “I’m an animal lover myself, but isn’t it possible you’re giving this decision too much weight? You could name your dog something as inappropriate as, say, Lamp. He’d go through his life happily answering to it.”
“I don’t know.”
Hannah warmed to her subject. It was a nice distraction from her reality. “He’s a dog. As long as you give him care and attention and biscuits, he’ll be happy. You’ll have to live with the choice, but he won’t care. It’s not like he’s going to walk up to you one day and say, Dad. Seriously? Lamp? What were you thinking?”
Boone licked his lips. “But what if he could do exactly that? Say the little guy will one day grow up and come to me and ask why I chose the name I chose. I want to be able to support my decision.”
“This is a very strange conversation to have with an attorney.”
“Just go with me here, would you? I figure there’s a reason your path and mine crossed this morning—that’s the way things work in Eternity Springs—and I need to bounce this off someone. Where do I start?”
“Maybe you should google popular names for male dogs?”
Boone scowled. “I don’t want to tell him that I picked his name off Google.”
Hannah did something then that she never believed she’d do today, of all days. She laughed. Suddenly, for reasons beyond her understanding, she wanted to help Boone McBride, Esquire, pick out the perfect name for his dog.
* * *
Damn, but the sparkle in those fabulous eyes combined with a smile on her face transformed fragile loveliness into fascinating beauty, the kind that made him think of classic movie stars in their heyday. Liz Taylor eyes. Katharine Hepburn burnished tresses. The patrician nose, high cheekbones, and full lips of Loretta Young.
The hourglass figure of Brigitte Bardot.
Despite all that gorgeousness, she could use some color. Her complexion was pale, not fair-skinned pale, but unhealthy pale. She wore black—black jeans, a plain black T-shirt. A black backpack sat at her feet.
She gave him an encouraging smile. “Maybe start here. Do you want a name that has meaning, or do you care more about how it sounds?”
Boone dragged his hand down his jawline rough with a three-day beard while he hauled his attention away from her charms. He wasn’t sure exactly how he’d let things get so far off track. He wasn’t looking for a name for his dog. He was pretty sure he wanted to call the pup Lucky. What he needed was a name for his son, but he wasn’t ready to roll that out to Hannah Dupree.
The woman had scared the living daylights out of him. He’d acted instinctively to put himself between her and the cliff’s edge, but had he misjudged her intentions?
Maybe. Maybe he’d overreacted. That was certainly possible. He admitted to being oversensitive where suicide was concerned. However, the fact that she had brought it up suggested that the subject had been on her mind. So he’d done a little two-step atop his soapbox and then changed the topic, gripped by a sense that he was meant to be here in this place, at this time, for this woman.
Be a light.
Maybe he needed to burn his candle on two different ends—the baby and this redheaded beauty. Or perhaps this was just a start, and he needed to stock up on batteries. He should have questioned Celeste about the whole light thing. Although knowing her, she’d said all she’d intended to say about it.
Be a light.
He looked into those startling eyes. Curiosity had replaced the anguish of moments before. He wanted to fall into those eyes. “Boone?”
“Hmm?” What had she asked?
“Names. Meaning or sound?”
Oh, yeah. Names. A name for his son. He pursed his lips and considered a moment before saying, “Meaning matters. Not the meaning of the name per se, but meaning to me. Sound is important too, though. I want a strong name. It doesn’t need to mean strength, but it needs to be strong.”
“Like Rocky or Rambo or Thor?”
Rambo McBride? “Too movie-character-ish. But I think something short. One or two syllables.”
“Okay, then, there’s your start. What things have meanin
g to you?”
“Family,” he said, without hesitation. “He’s joining my family. Becoming my family. I should give him some sort of family name.”
She glanced away at that point, but not before her eyes turned luminous with moisture. She cleared her throat, then said, “There you go. That’s an excellent start. See, wasn’t that easy?”
What’s the matter, Hollywood? “Not really. I have a big family with lots of children and pets and opinions. I love them. Don’t get me wrong, but they will second-guess the living daylights out of this decision.”
“Over what you name your dog?”
No, his family would second-guess his decision to adopt the Safe Haven baby. Come to think of it, they’d have an opinion about what he named his dog too.
Boone winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s complicated. Also, I tend to define family in a big-tent way. I have my nuclear family—my parents and two sisters—but I also have two cousins who are as close as brothers to me and some more distant cousins to whom I’ve become close since moving to Colorado. Add in the friends who are like family—I’m busting at the seams with ’em.”
“It sounds lovely,” she observed, a wistful note in her voice.
“I’m a lucky man.” A lucky man who was looking at a very lonely woman, he surmised. The morning sunlight made the fire in her hair glisten.
He’d opened his mouth to ask her where she was from when she dusted off her hands and asked, “Okay, then, what sort of strong, short, non-movie-character names say ‘family’ to you?”
Okay, we’ll just roll with this. He stared out at the vista spread before him, looking inward as he scooped up a handful of pebbles and began tossing them out into nothing. The idea of choosing his new son’s name here, this morning, felt right under these circumstances. Almost like a coming full circle. Having come to peace with his past during his trip to Enchanted Canyon, he could spend a little time with Ms. Hannah Dupree and attempt to share the wealth.
She looked tired, but not as desperate as before. However, one thing he was damned sure certain about: He would not leave her alone at Lover’s Leap. He didn’t care if he had to sit here until dark.
