by Carol Ross
The list went on, and to avoid romantic complications, or eventual hurt feelings, she attempted to stave off undue interest before it escalated into relationship territory.
Kai said, “I need to tell you something. When I said I wanted to be a travel writer, I wasn’t completely joking. Well, not the writer part but the travel. I majored in tourism and travel management at the University of Nevada.”
“What! Kai, why haven’t you mentioned that before?”
With a sheepish shrug, he admitted, “Self-conscious. I looked you up, and you’re kind of a big deal. I even realized that I’d read some of your stuff before.” With an apologetic wince, he added, “Sorry.”
“Oh, please.” She waved him off. “Why would you remember?”
“Because I’m hoping to work in the industry. I’ve done consulting work for a few local tour companies, in addition to guiding.”
“That’s awesome,” she said and then pointed out, “Sounds like you’re there, already.”
He agreed but not with an excess of enthusiasm. “But I’d like to do something different. Live somewhere besides the Southwest. I need to get out of here.”
“You need to get out of here?” she repeated in a teasing tone even as the phrase resonated through her like a familiar song.
“Yeah, I, um... That might sound a little dramatic, but you know that ex I’ve mentioned?”
“Emma.”
“Right. Well, she’s back in town, and I...” Inhaling a breath, he filled his cheeks with air before puffing out a sigh. “I don’t want to be where she is. I don’t want to be within five hundred miles of her. Do you think that’s cowardly?”
“Ha!” she sputtered. “If it is, then I’m the biggest coward on the planet.”
“Really?”
“Trust me. I get it. It was a romance disappointment that originally had me packing my bags.”
A bit more complicated than that, but after the fiasco of her breakup with her high school boyfriend, Derrick, and the simultaneous rejection by Cricket, she hadn’t wanted to remain in Rankins. But there wasn’t anywhere else she’d particularly wanted to be either.
The summer before college, she’d toured a portion of Europe and fallen in love, wished she’d had time to see more. So that was what she did, spent her sophomore year of college studying abroad. And then every break, every summer, almost every weekend until graduation, she’d gone somewhere. Anywhere but home.
On a whim, after a visit to Paris had excessively strained her bank account, she’d begun submitting articles to magazines and sites on topics she wished someone would realistically cover. Like “How to Enjoy Paris Cuisine on a (Real) Budget” and “Useful Tips for a Woman Traveling Alone in Southeast Asia.”
Keeping her expectations low, she’d started her blog, Hazel Blazes Trails, telling herself it was a way to keep track of her experiences. But it grew steadily as she slowly ventured further and wider, turning her passion into a career.
Had she been running away? Maybe. But she didn’t regret it. Only lately had this inexplicable longing started nipping at her heels. The problem was she couldn’t identify the exact cause, or even what she wanted, or where she wanted to go anymore. Chalking it up to both Iris and Seth finding their soul mates, and now Iris’s pregnancy, she hoped it was just a phase. A simple case of nest envy that would pass.
“That is so cool!” he cried and then immediately realized how that sounded. “No, not cool for you, I mean, but...”
“No, I get it,” Hazel said with a snicker. “It’s always nice to know you’re not the only one who’s suffering, right? I recommend traveling for getting over just about anything that ails you. And for discovering who you are, what you like, who you want to be. Learning how to rely on yourself is one of the most powerful tools you can have.” For her, that was possibly the best byproduct of her lifestyle. There wasn’t much she was afraid of.
“That’s what I’m hoping to do. Hey, if you hear of anything interesting, will you let me know?”
“Sure, I will,” she answered immediately.
“Thank you.” Kai’s phone began to emit a quiet buzz. “Shoot, sorry, I forgot to turn this off.” An eager grin spread across his face as he checked the display. “It’s Franco. Do you mind if I take this?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Go! Tell him I said hi.”
“Thanks. Be right back.” Hurrying toward the French doors that exited onto the veranda, he stepped outside.
Behind her, the sounds of shuffling feet and the murmur of cheerful voices provided a pleasant backdrop. More people were arriving, and the crowd was shifting to accommodate. Softness brushed across the bare skin of her back, maybe a shirtsleeve or jacket, sending a shiver over her. Even then, the sensation wouldn’t have caused her a second thought if not for the scent that drifted along with it.
The familiar yet distinctive combination of sandalwood, cinnamon and vanilla seeped into her consciousness. She’d know that fragrance anywhere. Since her teenage days, she’d puzzled over how a man could smell so singularly delicious and unique at the same time.
Closing her eyes, she breathed in the essence of Cricket Blackburn and tried to talk herself out of what she was thinking. No way he was here. And yet, when the hand landed on her elbow with an accompanying light squeeze, her heart told her otherwise.
“Hazel.” The deep baritone of his voice was unmistakable.
A multitude of questions bombarded her. What was he doing here? Could this possibly be an extremely wild coincidence? If not, how had he found her? When had he arrived? But she didn’t ask any of them; she couldn’t settle on one. Because he was here, and she was shocked, and he was staring at her. She could feel that, too, without even turning her head to look at him.
“Cricket.” She finally forced herself to meet his gaze and discovered green eyes blazing with startling intensity. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged a casual shoulder, but she could see the tension radiating from his body. “Looking for you.”
A little thrill spiked through her, only to be immediately tempered by concern. “Why would you be doing that?”
“Because you wouldn’t return my calls. Or my texts. I texted you three times.”
“What are you...?”
“You know how much I hate texting.”
She huffed an exasperated “Cricket!”
He sighed. “We were worried, Hazel. And I need to talk to you.”
Worried? “Is everyone okay? What do you need to talk to me about?”
“Everything is fine with your family. Aside from the fact that no one has heard from you in nearly three days. Do you want to explain that? Because I can’t think of a single reason that doesn’t involve you being in serious trouble. And believe me, I’ve given this a lot of thought.”
He went on before she could explain, as if needing to prove his assertion, “If you’d lost your phone, you’d buy another. A quick look at cell phone coverage in this area revealed that the chances of you being out of range around here for that long are slim.
“At first, I figured it was just me that you didn’t want to talk to.” A narrow-eyed pause followed, possibly an invitation for her to confirm or deny. When she did neither, he went on, “Then I found out I wasn’t the only one—Tag, Hannah, your mom. None of whom would have caused me to fly across the country in search of you. Except, I asked Iris, too.” He quit then, not needing to point out the obvious result.
It had been just him. Or at least it had started that way. Ugh, she really did not want to admit that.
“It was for an article,” she muttered, not quite meeting his eyes as she dug her phone out of her bag. A partial truth, because it had morphed into that, hadn’t it?
“Was it?” His tone held an edge of skepticism, as if he was trying to imagine how this could be so.
“Yes. My ph
one has been off, but I texted Iris and Seth to let them know I’d be out of touch.”
“Well, she didn’t get it.”
Staring at the screen, Hazel powered her phone on to check because she’d absolutely sent them a message before heading into the caves.
“Why? Why would you turn your phone off?”
“It’s not unusual for me to be...unreachable.” Her fingers flew over the screen, ignoring the million texts and social media notifications lighting up the display.
“That’s true,” he smoothly interrupted as if he knew the defense she was about to employ. “But you always let Iris and Seth know when you’ll be out of range for more than a couple of days. And at the very least, your location alone serves as an explanation. Mongolia or Nepal, for example, might lead a person to conclude that perhaps you are out of cell phone range or lacking electricity with which to charge your electronic devices. The wilds of Utah,” he added with a twinge of sarcasm, “not so much.”
Pulling up Seth and Iris’s text thread, she saw the message she’d sent. Tried to, she silently amended as she noted the tiny error icon along with the words Failed to send.
“Oh, no.” Her stomach dipped, and she met his gaze again. He was right. “It didn’t go through.” And that meant... “Is Iris worried about me?”
“Yes.”
She cringed. Why hadn’t she waited to make sure the text went through? Kai had even told her the service was bad. The truth was, she’d wanted to turn it off. Because she had been trying to avoid the very man now standing before her. And now here he was. Mission accomplished turned mission backfired. What a mess.
It reminded her that her pregnant worrier of a sister was also fretting about her. She fumbled for her phone again. “I need to call—”
“Iris is with me. She knows you’re fine.”
“Iris is here?” She glanced around but didn’t see her. That’s when something else occurred to her. Visions danced before her of police units swarming the grounds and SWAT teams busting through the windows. “Is everyone worried?”
“She’ll be by in a minute. She’s taking care of something. Not everyone. Iris, Tag, Bering and I were the only ones fully aware of your MIA status. We didn’t want to alarm anybody else until we knew for sure what was going on. Iris made some calls but failed to find where you stayed last night or the night before. She found out where you had been, but there was still the question of where you were now, and then the even bigger mystery of why you weren’t answering your phone.
“It made for a very pleasant journey, what with your sister pointing out how someone could have stolen your identity.” His wry tone assured her it had been anything but. “Or, in true Iris fashion, kidnapped you, murdered you and then stolen your identity. You can imagine all the variations on this riveting theme, I’m sure.”
“I can.” Poor Cricket. Her sister’s “caution” was legendary.
“Anyway, after we got here, she made more calls and found out that you attended a guided meditation session this morning. At some point, she remembered you’d mentioned being excited about a sort of holiday menu thing, which by the way, was not booked in your name. And here we are.”
Staring down at her shoes, she nodded, thinking this through, realizing how difficult tracking her down must have been. Most of the reservations had been left in Rory’s name. Bad timing to go “unconnected.”
“Hazel, I was...” His voice went lower and softer and lacked its previous hint of censure. When she looked into his eyes, she saw only concern and affection. “I was terrified. After South America, I...” Gaze narrowing, he trailed off as if carefully considering what to say next.
“Like you said, Utah is hardly South America.” She was trying to lighten the mood, but it came out sounding almost flippant, and she immediately regretted the words.
His jaw went tight, and he took his time inhaling a deep breath before calmly but soberly stating, “People disappear everywhere, Hazel. Every single day. On that point, Iris is correct.”
“I know,” she whispered, feeling terrible about what she’d put him through. And Iris. The unnecessary worry she’d caused her family. “That was a stupid, terrible joke. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about all of it. You know this isn’t like me. I wasn’t thinking.”
His eyes seemed to search hers for sincerity. Nodding as if he found it, his voice held a rasp as he added, “I couldn’t stop...” He paused to take a sip of what she assumed by its amber color to be whiskey, his drink of choice. No festive and fruity cocktails for him. An epicure, Cricket was not, and a holiday tasting menu definitely would not be his cup of tea.
“Couldn’t stop what?” she urged, taking a small step toward him.
“Worrying,” he said, then looked away and clearing his throat. “Thinking about South America and all of Iris’s theories. And also wondering if you were still angry enough with me that you’d go to this extreme to avoid me and...and I’m just incredibly relieved that you’re safe. What happened, anyway? You never did say why your phone was off. What kind of article requires you to shut off your phone?”
Her face went hot. She didn’t want to admit that he was right about that part, that she’d shut it down on a whim, just to avoid him. “I’m working on a story about how to enjoy traveling without being connected.”
“People need someone to teach them how to do that?” he joked, and she appreciated him trying to make this easier on her. She wasn’t sure she deserved it. Probably, she should fess up.
But before she could muster the courage, he leaned in a little closer. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
Her pulse jumped and set her heart racing. Despite her frustration with him, she loved how he could make her feel.
“Thank you,” she said, joy boosting her smile and her ego. “You’re looking pretty handsome yourself.” And he was. He’d worn neatly pressed charcoal-colored slacks and a white button-down shirt with a tie—gray and dark green with a subtle pattern that perfectly complemented his striking green eyes. Unlike most of the guys she’d grown up around, Cricket didn’t mind dressing up, and he was oddly good at it.
But then he ruined it. “Very grown-up.”
Because that she hated. The way he qualified his compliments with subtle reminders of his honorary “big brother” status in her life. Something she never heard him do with Shay or Hannah or even Iris.
“Now, let’s get out of here. Like I mentioned earlier, I do want to discuss something with you. I’ll buy you and Iris dinner. I haven’t eaten all day.”
“I’m sorry.” She felt guilty about that, too, knowing that stress stole his appetite. “I can’t. I have a reservation for the tasting here, also for an article. But I can maybe meet you guys after?”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.” He gave a playful wince. “I was looking forward to the prime rib they’re serving in the dining room, but if you insist on staying, we’ll hang around here with you and eat tiny plates of things I can’t pronounce. Is it acceptable to order a regular-size entrée on the side?”
She gave him an apologetic look. “Unfortunately, this is an extremely popular event. Very trendy. Seats are booked months in advance. It would be impossible to get a spot now.”
“Yeah?” He sounded doubtful and scanned the room as if he couldn’t quite believe all these people were here for such an occasion.
“Yes, and besides, I have a date, so I’ll be fine.” Not that she needed company, anyway. She did this kind of thing all the time. Alone.
“Hey, you,” Iris said, approaching them and immediately enfolding Hazel in a hug. “So, so, sooo glad you’re not in the bottom of an abandoned mine shaft. There are so many of those in this part of the country.”
“Iris,” she said, squeezing her sister tight. “I am beyond sorry. I sent you a text, but it didn’t go through.”
Nodding, Iris took a step back
but held on to her upper arms. “My imagination went off the rails, worse than normal. Possibly, hormones contributed. Regardless, unfortunate circumstances made for a perfect worry storm. We can talk about those details later. Or not. Thankfully, Cricket is a man of action, right? And a pilot with several planes at his disposal. He flew us to Anchorage, we hopped on a jet, and here we are.”
Shifting toward Cricket, she held out two tickets and said, “Good news. It worked. We got seats.”
Hazel gaped. “Iris, how in the world did you get those? They’re supposed to be impossible.”
“Hazel,” Iris said, the sparkle in her eyes a perfect match to her self-satisfied smile. “A lot of things are impossible unless you know what to ask.”
CHAPTER FOUR
IRIS WENT ON to explain how she’d managed to score the tickets, but Cricket was barely listening. He was too busy fixating on that last thing Hazel had said. Specifically, the date part.
When they seemed to be wrapping up the ticket topic, he said, “So, where’d your date scamper off to? Can’t wait to meet him.” He’d been trying for lightheartedness but could hear the bitter infusion in his tone.
Hazel gave him a sharp, curious look as he silently acknowledged it for the jealousy it was. He should have known better than to drink on an empty stomach. But he’d worked himself up into quite a state on the way here, imagining the myriad ways she could be in danger.
The relief he’d felt upon arriving and finally locating her had left him shaken. Admittedly, he hadn’t thought much past finding her, so when he had, he’d been torn between pulling her into a hug or delivering a lecture. He’d gone with lecture because if he hugged her, he wouldn’t want to let go. The backless emerald-colored dress she wore complemented her hazel eyes and hugged her curves without being tight. She’d left her long, light brown hair to curl softly around her shoulders, and when she moved, the golden, sun-kissed tones shimmered in the soft glow of the holiday lights. Yeah, he still wanted to hug her.
