She shook away the unwanted memories, dropped her helmet and jacket atop the picnic table then tugged the phone from her back pocket and sent a text to her sister, letting her know she’d arrived safely. Thirty seconds later, the phone rang and Lucy’s name appeared on the screen.
Grace should have known her little sister wouldn’t be satisfied with a text.
“Hey, Luce.”
“I told you to call me when you got there. Not text.”
“Just trying to save time.” Grace sat down at the table. “I haven’t even set up camp yet.”
“In that case, I’ll cut you some slack. So... What do you think of Ouray?” Excitement laced Lucy’s tone.
Her sister and mother had spent the summer after Dad’s death up here and Lucy had fallen in love with the town. If only things had been that simple with their mother.
“In a word? Gorgeous. The pictures you showed me didn’t even begin to do it justice.”
“See? Didn’t I tell you?”
“You did.” Something she was certain Lucy would never let her forget.
“I think the change of scenery will do wonders for you, Grace. At the end of the summer, you’ll feel like a new woman, refreshed and ready to conquer the world.”
Conquering the world was exactly what Grace planned to do. Unfortunately, the ship the cruise line had assigned her to was in dry dock, undergoing renovations, and she wouldn’t be setting sail as an excursions manager until late September. So, at Lucy’s relentless urging, Grace reluctantly accepted a summer job in Ouray.
Using her finger, she traced the heart someone had carved into the wooden tabletop. “I hope so.” After her divorce last year, she finished out her enlistment then discharged from the navy, eager to flee Jacksonville and start a new life. A life lived on her terms, not those of a God who’d turned His back on her.
“Have you been to see Mama yet?”
Grace’s whole being sagged. That was the one aspect of this summer she was divided on. She knew she needed to reconnect with her mother, at least on some level, before heading out to sea. But seeing her mother meant she would also have to see him.
“No. Like I said, I have to set up camp.”
“I still don’t understand why you won’t stay with Mama and Roger.”
“You know why.”
“Come on, Grace. They’ve been married for three years. Don’t you think it’s time you gave Roger a chance?”
“Not particularly.” That would be like turning her back on her father.
“He’s a good guy, Grace. He makes Mama happy.”
“Perhaps.” But how her mother could move on only a year after Daddy’s death was something Grace would never understand. “Hey, look, I need to get things going here, so I’ll talk to you later, Luce.”
Grace ended the call, eager to be done with any and all talk of Roger, grabbed work gloves from her saddlebag and unhitched her trailer from her bike. With a firm grip on the tongue of the trailer, she maneuvered it back and to the right, a position that would afford her a nice view, as well as some privacy.
Forty-five minutes later, both her trailer and a separate canopy she’d use as a lounge/kitchen area were ready to go. Sure it was small, but compared to her cramped quarters on the aircraft carrier, it was the Taj Mahal.
She giggled then, remembering that was exactly what her father used to call it. When he was alive, he would take a monthlong road trip on his motorcycle every summer. Sometimes he’d go to bike rallies or visit her if she wasn’t at sea. Wherever he went, though, this camper was his home away from home.
A tear spilled onto her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. If only he could be here now. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so alone. So vacant. He’d wrap her in one of his famous bear hugs and help her make sense of her life.
I miss you, Daddy.
She ducked under the canopy and collapsed in her favorite lawn chair, suddenly exhausted. The sun had barely risen when she pulled away from her sister’s house in Flagstaff this morning. Lifting the lid on the cooler beside her, she snagged a Diet Dr Pepper and was just about to kick off her riding boots when she noticed the back tire on her motorcycle was flat.
“Are you kidding me?” She groaned, setting the unopened can on the cooler, and went to investigate. Once she removed the saddlebags, it didn’t take her long to find the nail lodged into the tread. Thankfully, it would be an easy repair.
After pulling her hair into a quick ponytail, she opened the first saddlebag and dug through it, searching for a plug kit. Coming up empty-handed, she moved on to the next one. “Where are you?” She always carried at least two plug kits.
“Aha!” She pulled out the orange box and opened its lid.
Her heart dropped. Everything was there. The tools, the rubber cement... But no plugs.
She looked at her watch. Five thirty. What time did stores close around here anyway? She’d spotted a hardware store on her way in. Hopefully, they’d not only be open, but have what she needed, as well.
She tucked her saddlebags inside the tent, then briskly walked the six blocks to the hardware store.
“I’m sorry, but we’re temporarily out of both the plugs and plug kits.” The clerk’s apologetic smile did little to comfort her. “But you could check with one of the Jeep tour places. They might be able to help you.”
Seriously? A Jeep place?
Okay, so they had a lot of tires to worry about, but she was only familiar with one Jeep place and the idea of going back there again today didn’t settle well. What if Kaleb thought she was one of those women who was merely looking for an excuse to return?
You could check with your mother.
Definitely not. Besides, she was planning to walk to work tomorrow.
What if there’s an emergency, and you need your bike?
She blew out a frustrated breath. Logic left so much to be desired.
Trekking across the street, she swallowed her pride and walked into the somewhat dingy office of Mountain View Tours. A gallon or two of paint would do wonders for this place.
Kaleb stood behind the desk, his back to her. “Be right with you.” The overhead fluorescent bulbs highlighted a bit of blond in his short sandy-brown hair.
She waited in silence, her anxiety building.
“Grace?” His smile was easy and he appeared almost happy to see her. “What are you doing here?”
“I have a flat on my bike. By any chance do you sell tire plugs?”
“No, we do not.”
In that instant, her tire wasn’t the only thing that was deflated. Oh, well. At least she was within walking distance of work. She’d just have to wait for the hardware store to replenish their stock. Or check with one of those other Jeep places the clerk had mentioned.
“But I’d be happy to give you one.”
Her gaze jerked to Kaleb’s. “Really?”
“Mountain View Tours always takes care of their customers.”
“I’m not a—”
“And their employees.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks grew warm and she turned her head to hide the reaction.
“I’ll be right back.” He rounded the counter and disappeared through the door that led to the garage. A minute later, he reappeared. “Here you go.” He handed her a bag with three plugs. “You need any tools?”
“Those I have, so no—” she dared to look at him “—thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He glanced at the generic round wall clock behind the desk. “I’m about to lock up. I could give you a lift and help with that tire, if you like.”
“Oh, that won’t be—”
“Grace, a gentleman does not let an unaccompanied female fix her own flat tire.”
“But—”
“No matter how capable sh
e might be.”
Again she felt herself blush. Totally weird since she couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed. Still, she didn’t need or want Kaleb’s help. She didn’t like to rely on other people. She could take care of herself.
“Look, this wouldn’t be the first plug I’ve done.” No, it would be the second. “I can have it fixed—”
“Grace.” The look he gave her left no room for question. Much like her commanding officer. “I’m coming to help you, and that’s all there is to it.”
Great. So her boss thought her a damsel in distress.
She’d just have to prove him wrong.
Chapter Two
Kaleb held the passenger door of his Jeep open as Grace, now sporting a ponytail and a plain gray T-shirt, reluctantly climbed inside. Clearly, she was a strong, independent woman, evidenced by the fact that she drove a motorcycle and was staying alone at the campground. Still, he preferred to make sure things were done and done right.
“This really isn’t necessary, you know.” Grace’s tone held a hint of annoyance, which he chose to ignore.
“So you’ve said.” He tossed the door closed, continued around to the driver’s side and hopped in. “But given that you’re new in town, it’s only logical that I should offer my newest employee a hand. People helping people. That’s how we are in Ouray.”
While she stared out the window, he started the vehicle, crossed Main Street and headed down Seventh Avenue.
Grace jerked her head in his direction. “How do you know which way to go?”
“Easy.” He eyed the cross streets for traffic. “There are only two RV parks within walking distance of Main Street. I saw you coming up Seventh before turning into the hardware store.” He shrugged. “Simple process of elimination.”
She didn’t say anything, but her narrowed eyes told him she wasn’t necessarily pleased with his observation. Not that he cared. War had taught him to pay attention to detail.
He made a right onto Oak Street, gravel crunching beneath the Jeep’s heavy-duty tires. “I’ll have to rely on you to direct me to your campsite, though. Either that or drive around until I see your motorcycle.”
“Wouldn’t take you long. I’m just a few sites into the campground.”
Sure enough. Once they’d passed the office on the right and showers to their left, he spotted her motorcycle and camper.
Grace was halfway out the door before he even brought the Jeep to a stop in front of her campsite. She moved around the vehicle and continued straight on to her tent.
Women. He hoped she wasn’t going to be this stubborn about everything.
She had a tire that needed fixing, though, and he intended to do just that.
He stepped out of the Jeep and retrieved his toolbox from the backseat. When he turned around, Grace reappeared—carrying a toolbox.
Uh-oh. Tread lightly, Palmer.
“For the record—” he set his toolbox on the ground beside her motorcycle “—I’m not a chauvinist or anything. I just like to make sure things are done correctly.”
She set her toolbox down with a thud, then crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t think I can do it correctly?”
“I didn’t say that.” He eyeballed the flat tire, spotting the nail right away. “It’ll just make me feel better, that’s all.”
Kneeling on his good knee, he lifted the lid on his toolbox and reached for a pair of pliers. “Do you have a compressor or something to inflate the tire once it’s repaired?”
She continued to glare at him. “Wouldn’t take a road trip without one.”
“Glad to hear it.” Using the pliers, he pulled the nail from the tire. “You said you had a plug tool?”
Her brow shot up. “You mean you don’t have one?”
He pondered the spitfire staring down at him. “Actually...” He dug through his toolbox until he found his own plug kit tucked in the bottom. “Yep.” He held it up.
Threading the thick rubbery plug through the eye of the tool that was best described as a giant needle with a handle, he glanced over his shoulder.
“That’s an interesting setup you’ve got there.” Definitely not like the campers he was used to seeing. Instead of the pop-up going up and out on both ends, it went up and then out on one side, making it look like a tent sitting on a wagon.
“Thanks.” Arms still crossed, she watched as he jammed the tool into the tire. “It belonged to my dad.”
Melancholy wove its way through her last statement, telling him far more than her words.
“I take it he’s no longer with us?”
“Cancer.” She scraped a booted foot across the gravel. “Four years ago.”
Even with the distance of time, her grief was evident.
“He must have been a young man.” Kaleb pulled the tool back out then grabbed a pair of cutters to trim the excess plug.
“Fifty-six.”
That had to be difficult. Losing someone who, by all counts, was in the prime of their life. He knew what that was like. Tossing his tools back into the box, he stood and looked at her, his annoyance fading. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” Despite a momentary chink, her armor was back in place. “I’ll get that compressor.”
She turned and again headed for her tent, but not before he noticed the sadness in her hazel eyes. Beyond the striking mix of green, brown and gold, there lurked something that intrigued him all the more.
For all of Grace’s toughness, it seemed her heart was as tender as the wildflowers that blanketed the mountains in late July. Those that endured the harshest of winters only to flourish and grow more beautiful.
Not at all like Gina, his ex-fiancée. She’d wilted as soon as the storm clouds rolled in.
The hum of an electric engine drew his attention. Looking up the road, he spotted Luann Carter zooming toward him in her signature red golf cart, her grin as wide as ever.
She slowed to stop in front of him. “I thought that was you, Kaleb.” She hopped out, scurried around the cart and greeted him with a hug. “It’s always a joy to see you.”
“How’s it going?” He released the sixty-some-year-old redhead and peered down at her. Luann was a short one all right. Not even reaching five feet tall. But what she lacked in height, she more than made up for in spirit.
“Just wonderful. And how ’bout yourself? I’m sure you’re so busy you’re havin’ to turn away customers.”
“I wish things were that good, Luann. But I’m hoping they’ll pick up after Memorial Day.”
“That reminds me. ” She wagged a finger his way. “Make sure you bring me some brochures. I want to have plenty on hand so I can tell everyone about the new Mountain View Tours.”
He couldn’t help smiling. Seemed the whole town had rallied around him, willing him to bring this fledgling company back from the brink of disaster. He was determined to show that their faith in him wasn’t unfounded.
“I’ll be sure and do that just as soon as I get them printed.” Of course, before he could do that, he had to have someone design them. Add that to the long list of things he had yet to do.
“Well, hello there.” Luann’s attention shifted to somewhere behind him.
He turned to find Grace, compressor in hand. “Luann, I’d like you to meet my new office manager. Grace McAllen, this is Luann Carter. She and her husband, Bud, own the campground.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Grace smiled at the older woman. “I think I met your husband when I checked in.”
Luann waved a hand. “Probably. I’ve been out running errands most of the afternoon.” Her assessing gaze skimmed over Grace. “So you’ll be working with Kaleb?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, let me tell you, sugar, this is proba
bly one of the finest young men you could ever work for.” Luann rested a hand on his arm. “He is kind, generous, respectful...” She hesitated a moment, then forged on. “Ol’ Bud and I were having some car trouble back this winter and, well, things were a little tight financially.” She gently squeezed his arm. “So Kaleb here fixed it for us and didn’t charge us a thing, ’cept for the parts.”
Warmth crept up Kaleb’s neck as Grace’s focus shifted to him.
“Poor fella spent two days in that freezing-cold garage and never asked for anything more than one of my coconut cream pies.”
He cleared his throat. “Grace, if you ever have one of Luann’s coconut pies, you’ll understand that it was a very fair trade.”
Luann playfully swatted him, her own cheeks turning pink. “Oh, stop, you.”
Grace watched the two of them, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “You have a lovely campground, Luann.”
“Thank you, sugar.” Luann’s phone whistled. She tugged it from the clip attached to the pocket of her cargo pants and looked at the screen. “Looks like Bud needs me. Gettin’ close to dinnertime, you know.” She winked at Kaleb before turning her attention back to Grace. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
Luann hugged both of them before hurrying back to her golf cart. “Catch ya later.” She waved as she sped off.
Kaleb looked at Grace and they both cracked up.
“You won’t find many people with a bigger heart than Luann,” he said.
Grace lifted a shoulder. “According to her, you’ll give her a pretty good run for her money.”
“Yeah, well. She tends to exaggerate.” He toed at the dirt. “Hey, look, about the tire. I’m sorry if I was a little pushy.”
“A little?” There went that perfectly arched brow again.
“Okay, so one of the first things you should probably know about me is that I like to be in control.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Does that mean you’ll constantly be looking over my shoulder at work? Questioning my abilities?”
Falling for the Hometown Hero Page 2
