Finding Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  Brodie was oblivious to the problem—wearing hearing protection against the noise and focused on his saw and the log in front of him.

  Cobra swore under his breath, rushing toward their station, approaching an official and meeting Raven there.

  Brodie saw what was happening, but Cobra motioned for him to keep going.

  After a brief discussion, the official nodded, and Cobra headed for the splitter. He pulled a multi-tool from his belt and cut an end of the hose. In moments, he’d reattached it and restarted the splitter. It roared back to life.

  He got out of the way, and Raven went back to work, trying frantically to catch up to the other teams.

  Although her effort was valiant, it was clear they weren’t going to be the winners. Still breathing hard from their efforts, Brodie hugged her tight and offered what were obviously consoling words as Marnie, Cobra, Mia and Silas went to offer their own reassurance.

  “There’s still the Partner Packing,” Brodie told Raven when it came out they’d only managed third place.

  “We’ll need the full five points in that,” she said, sounding worried. “Plus, we’ll need Balsam Ridge to finish third or worse for us to win.”

  “Doable,” Silas said.

  Cobra touched Marnie’s arm and motioned her away with a tilt of his head.

  She followed him a few steps.

  “You and I could enter Partner Packing,” he said. “Paradise is allowed two teams.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, taking a step away in protest. “I’ve already told you I’m not doing that.” She’d seen pictures of the undignified race. She was, frankly, astonished that Mia had agreed to enter.

  “We’d win,” he said eagerly. “I promise you we would win.”

  “Silas and Mia can win.”

  “They won’t.” Cobra shook his head. “I’ve seen their competition out practicing.”

  And Marnie had seen how the women were slung over the men’s shoulders in a completely undignified fireman’s carry and cringed. No thanks, not her.

  “They might win.” She glanced to Silas, trying to decide if he looked confident about his and Mia’s chances.

  “It’s for the championship,” Cobra said.

  “I’m not a sack of flour.”

  He chuckled at her protest. “Neither is Mia. Neither are any of the competitors. Nobody will think less of you. You’ll be a hero.”

  She didn’t appreciate his humor. “I don’t want to be a hero.”

  “Marnie.”

  “Cobra.”

  “It’s a guaranteed five points. It’s for the town.”

  “And if Balsam Ridge comes second in the race?”

  “Then we don’t win the plaque.”

  “And my sacrifice would be for nothing.”

  He was silent for a beat before speaking. “So, you’re thinking about it?”

  No, she wasn’t. Was she?

  The last thing in the world she wanted to do was enter the stupid race. But Cobra was fast, and he was strong, and she was even lighter than Mia. They were Paradise’s best shot at the championship.

  She hated that he’d put her in this position. She didn’t even care about this competition; she was only participating to help out.

  “Well?” he prompted, looking hopeful.

  “Let me think about it.”

  “No. Don’t think about it. If you think about it, you’ll talk yourself out of it.”

  “I will not.”

  “You will.” He leaned in. “Just say yes. Right here, right now. Let me go tell them all that we have a fighting chance.”

  Marnie glanced Silas and Mia’s way again. Brodie was talking, and some other team members had gathered around. They all looked worried.

  She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, telling herself it would be over with quickly.

  He took her hand in his. “For the town,” he repeated.

  “Fine,” she said, hating her answer but knowing guilt would haunt her for days if she said no. Win or lose, Cobra had better know how much of a sacrifice she was making.

  Chapter Seventeen

  At the starting line, Cobra settled Marnie across his shoulders. He held her effortlessly, barely feeling a strain—this would be easy.

  “How long is this thing?” she asked, raising her head and looking out across the field.

  “About a half mile.”

  “A half—”

  “There are a few obstacles, but don’t worry, I won’t drop you.”

  “Wait . . . obstacles?” The apprehension in her voice was becoming more pronounced.

  He hadn’t described the details of the race, not wanting her to worry, or worse, back out. “A few logs to jump over, things like that.”

  “Cobra.”

  The whistle blew three times, signaling for the runners to put their toe on the line.

  “It’s fine,” he assured her. “It’s all good. You’re easy to carry, and I have great balance.”

  “You didn’t tell me there’d be—”

  “Take your marks,” the official’s voice boomed over the bullhorn.

  Cobra tightened his grip and put his toe on the line.

  The starting gun sounded, and he took off running.

  Marnie made an inarticulate sound of horror and clung on tight.

  A half mile was a short jog but a long sprint. Cobra checked the pace of the other runners, putting himself slightly into the lead. He wanted to stay out front, because he couldn’t count on having a kick at the end, not while carrying an extra hundred pounds.

  The competitors strung themselves out, the front ten staying within a few yards of one another. Cobra glanced to the side and saw Silas was sticking with the front pack.

  The competitor from Balsam Ridge upped the pace, and Cobra stayed with him. The ground was uneven, and Cobra had to focus on his footing to make sure he didn’t stumble.

  They came to the horizontal log obstacles.

  “Hang on,” he warned Marnie through his heavy breathing. He hurdled over the logs, jumped the creek, then sprinted a few strides to zigzag first through the vertical logs.

  Balsam Ridge was hot on his heels.

  He hated to up the pace, because his thighs were already starting to burn, and they were only halfway through. But Balsam Ridge pushed, and Cobra had no choice but to run faster.

  His lungs labored. His heart pounded. His muscles went from burning to trembling, and he knew he was in trouble. There were fifty yards, then thirty, then twenty. Balsam Ridge was coming up fast. Cobra would have dived across the finish line if not for Marnie on his back.

  He pushed through the tape to the cheers of the crowd.

  He didn’t know for sure they’d won until he saw the expression on Brodie’s face.

  Cobra dropped to his knees, Marnie still on his shoulders.

  “Let her go,” Brodie said with laughter.

  “Let me go,” Marnie echoed, sounding annoyed.

  It took Cobra a minute to get his cramped hands to release her, and he hoped he hadn’t hung on too tight.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as she slithered to the grass beside him.

  “Who the hell came up with that?” she demanded.

  Brodie laughed again. At the same time, Raven dropped to her knees to give Marnie a hug.

  “That was some race,” Raven said.

  “Balsam Ridge came second,” Marnie said, looking around at the competitors.

  Cobra sobered, knowing they’d won the race but lost the plaque.

  “Mia and Silas took third,” Raven said with a grin.

  Brodie nodded confirmation, and Cobra laughed through his heavy breathing. They’d taken the championship by one point.

  “Where’s Mia?” Marnie asked, coming to her feet and looking around.


  Brodie offered his hand to Cobra.

  Cobra took it and pulled himself upright, stretching out his cramping muscles.

  “Walk it off,” Brodie advised.

  “Yeah,” Cobra agreed, taking a few steps to get the blood flowing. “I thought it was going to be easier than that.”

  “You left most of the pack in the dust. It was just you and Greenwell.” Brodie paused. “Track star, apparently.”

  “He’s good.” Cobra looked around and spotted the competitor.

  He made his way over then shook the man’s hand. “Nice race.”

  “You too.” Greenwell grinned. “Thought I had you there at the end.”

  “Another thirty yards and maybe,” Cobra agreed.

  “Get you next year,” he said.

  “You’re on,” Cobra answered, though remembered he wouldn’t have Marnie to carry next year.

  Chances were very slim, but maybe she’d come back for it. They were already planning more matchmaking events. Maybe one of them could sync up with next year’s Klondike Challenge and they could do it all over again. He shook his head, wondering why he was even thinking so far in the future.

  He took a step forward, stretching his cramped muscles, deciding he’d have to train if he wanted to do next year’s race. He didn’t want to go into it cold again.

  A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder. “You’re the man,” Silas said on a laugh.

  “You’re the one who got us over the top,” Cobra said back. He let out a breath. “Wow, that was tough.”

  “Hell yeah,” Silas said. “I can’t believe you stayed ahead of that guy.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  “Well, we won the plaque.”

  Cobra grinned at that, even as he looked around for Marnie, wondering where she’d gone. “The women take off?” he asked Silas.

  “Probably off to open some wine.”

  “I could sure use a beer.”

  “Bar’ll be open for the presentation,” Silas said.

  Cobra would have rather gone in search of Marnie, but he walked with Silas to the main gazebo where the Paradise team would be presented with the championship plaque.

  They bought themselves cold beers and accepted congratulations from the other towns, chatting with people they knew, everyone relaxing now that the competition was over. There would be a party tonight, and tomorrow, teams would pack up and move their gear back to the hometowns to hunker down for the first big snow of the winter.

  Hating the thought of hunkering down alone, Cobra looked around for Marnie again. He spotted her talking with Mia, and he headed that way.

  “Tell them to come up and sign off,” Silas called out behind him.

  Cobra gave a wave to show that he’d heard.

  “You didn’t find the wine yet?” he joked as he approached the two women.

  Marnie frowned. “I’m not exactly talking to you right now.”

  He knew she was joking. At least he thought she was joking.

  “We should go sign off,” he said to Mia.

  “That’ll be fun,” Mia said with a grin.

  “What’s that?” Marnie asked.

  “Accepting our prize. The plaque—which will hang in the Bear and Bar for the year—and a check for the charity of our choice.”

  “The Paradise Volunteer Firefighters Association,” Cobra said in case Mia didn’t already know. “It’ll put us over the top for a new pumper truck.”

  “You’re a firefighter?” Mia asked.

  “We all are.” Cobra cast a worried glance Marnie’s way, afraid she might have been serious about not talking to him. “Shall we go sign?”

  She didn’t answer, but she did nod, and he took that as encouraging.

  The three of them stepped up in the gazebo. Silas was already there signing. Mia lined up behind him then signed her name and handed the pen to Marnie.

  Marnie stared at the sheet for a long minute.

  Cobra assumed she was being a lawyer and reading it. It was boilerplate. They used the same one every year, but he didn’t interrupt her.

  She tapped the pen on the paper as a line grew behind him.

  He finally bent close. “What?”

  “I can’t sign this,” she said.

  “You have to sign it.” What was she even talking about?

  “They want my address.”

  “Put down Mia’s, Mile 5, Airport Road.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I don’t live there.”

  “You do right now. Come on, Mia will back you.” He glanced over his shoulder as more team members crowded in behind them.

  “It’s a lie,” she said, making way too much of a technicality.

  “At worst, it’s an exaggeration,” he said. “There’s no time limit on how short or long you’ve lived there. Just sign it.”

  “If I don’t?”

  He couldn’t believe she was seriously considering that. “Then we don’t get the plaque. And we don’t get the check.”

  She took a beat. “Or the new pumper truck.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Fine,” she said, wrote down the address, signed her name and handed Cobra the pen.

  By the time he finished, she’d disappeared into the crowd, leaving him wondering what all that had been about.

  * * *

  * * *

  The windup celebration was under way with music blaring from the central gazebo into the Paradise team camp, coming easily through the canvas tent walls.

  Marnie heard footsteps outside, and her stomach clamped with anxiety. She’d known Cobra would come looking for her, but she’d hoped it would take a little longer. She felt sick thinking about what she needed to say and do.

  She wished she didn’t have to face him and say goodbye, wished right now that she’d stayed away from him altogether. But she’d walked into this thing with her eyes wide open, stayed in it with her eyes wide open too. She had no one to blame but herself.

  “There you are,” Cobra said, sounding happy to have found her as the tent door yawned open. “They’re firing up the grill if you’re hungry.”

  His gaze moved to her open suitcase on the bed and stopped.

  “I’m not hungry,” she managed. The very last thing she felt was hungry.

  “Why are you packing?” He moved closer, his brows knitting together.

  “Silas has a WSA flight in the morning,” she said breezily, pretending it was only a matter of practicality. “He’s heading back to Paradise tonight, and I’m hitching a ride.” She turned back to her bed, pretending he’d simply accept her explanation.

  He sounded cautious now, confused. “Why would you leave early?”

  She refolded a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt and took her time placing them in the suitcase to keep from meeting his eyes. “I was always planning to leave after the competition.”

  “The competition isn’t over.”

  “The events are done. You’re taking home the plaque. That’s what counts.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice as she took her toiletries bag from the bedside table and tucked it into the end of the suitcase.

  He moved closer still. “What’s going on here?”

  “Nothing,” she said with forced cheer, trying to hold it together.

  “Marnie.” His voice was strained.

  “My trip always had an end to it, and this is it.”

  He paused for a minute. “Is this about the Partner Packing race?”

  “No.” It was, but that was only part of it.

  “It was all in good fun,” he said cajolingly.

  “I know.” The last thing she wanted to do was start an argument about the race.

  “You thought it was tacky.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, so she didn’t answ
er.

  She looked around the room, making sure she hadn’t missed anything.

  Annoyance crept into his tone. “Is that what you think of me?”

  She was genuinely confused by that. “That you’re right?”

  “That I’m tacky?”

  “No.”

  “Classless?”

  “No!” The denial leapt from her lips.

  “Then what? Why are you doing this?”

  She saw bewilderment in his eyes and fought a sudden wave of heartache. “It’s not you.”

  “Yeah, right.” His tone was bitter.

  “I have a life. I need to get back to it.” It was true.

  “So, go tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. Don’t leave like this.”

  “The longer I put it off—”

  “What?” He sounded exasperated now. “The more fun we’ll have together?”

  “No.” She held his gaze. “That’s not—”

  He reached for her hands, but she pulled away.

  “What?” he repeated. “Tell me.”

  “You’re a great guy, Cobra.”

  He gripped the back of his neck. “Well, that tells me nothing.”

  “You’re smart. You’re strong. But you’re also bold and completely overwhelming.”

  He shook his head in denial.

  “You push me into things,” she said.

  “This is about the race.”

  “It’s not.”

  “You’re lying. Why are you lying to me?”

  “Okay.” She owned up. “It is about the race. But it’s not only about the race. I told you I didn’t want to do it.”

  “And then you changed your mind. Was it that bad? Was it really that bad?”

  “You know it wasn’t.” It was the principle that upset her, not the race itself.

  “All I know is that you’re packing your bag, and I feel like I’m never going to see you again.”

  Marnie’s stomach wrapped itself in a knot. “I can’t live like this,” she said, trying to put her anxiety into words.

  He looked around the tent. “You mean one more night here?”

  “I mean you,” she blurted out, giving up on trying to tiptoe around.

  He went dead still, his eyes hardening.