At Last (Lucky Harbor)

by Jill Shalvis

  The Olympic Mountains. Where Amy currently sat. “Did he get to do those things in time?”

  Her mom was quiet, not answering.

  “Mom?”

  “You haven’t called me in two years. Two years, Amy.”

  She sighed. “Yeah.”

  “It’d have been nice to know you’re alive.”

  The last time Amy had called, her mother had been having marital problems with husband number five—shock—and she’d wanted to play the place-the-blame game. Amy hadn’t wanted to go there. So it’d been easier not to call. “What happened to Jonathon, Mom? And do you know where it was exactly that Grandma Rose ended her journey? Her journal is clear on the first two legs of their trek in the Olympic Mountains, but it’s vague on the last stop.” Where Rose had found heart… “Do you—”

  “I’m fine, you know. Thanks for asking.”

  Amy grimaced. “Mom—”

  “Is this your cell phone? This number you called me from?”

  “Yes,” Amy said.

  “You have enough minutes in your phone plan to make a few extra calls?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Call me again sometime, and you can ask me another question. I’ll answer a question with each call. How’s that sound?”

  Amy blinked. “You want me to call you?”

  “You always were a quick study.”

  “But—”

  Click.

  Amy stared at the phone. This was almost too much information for her brain to process. Her Grandma Rose had made this journey when she’d been seventeen years old. Seventeen. And she’d been a newlywed, in love with someone who’d died young and tragically.

  How had that brought her hope? Or peace? Or her own heart…?

  Amy pulled out the journal. She’d read it a hundred times. She knew that there was no mention of Jonathon.

  Just the elusive and misleading “we.”

  It’s been a rough week. The roughest of the summer so far.

  Well, that made sense now. Jonathon had been sick. Dying. Amy flipped to the next entry.

  Lucky Harbor’s small and quirky, and the people are friendly. We’ve been here all week resting, but today was a good day so we went back up the mountain. To a place called Four Lakes this time. All around us the forest vibrated with life and energy, especially the water.

  I never realized how much weight the water can remove from one’s shoulders. Swimming in the water was joy. Sheer joy.

  I could hear the call of gulls, and caught the occasional bald eagle in our peripheral. The sheer, vast beauty was staggering.

  Afterward, we lay beneath a two-hundred-foot-tall old spruce and stared up through the tangle of branches to the sky beyond. I’d always been a city girl through and through, but this… out here… it was magic. Healing.

  I carved our initials on the tree trunk. It felt like a promise. I had my hope, but now I had something else, too, peace. Four Lakes had given me peace.

  A little shocked to find her eyes stinging, her knees weak with emotion, Amy sank to the grass, emotion churning through her. As odd as it seemed, she’d found the teeniest, tiniest bit of hope for herself after all. Maybe her own peace was next…

  “Phone’s for you!” Jan yelled to Amy across the diner. “You need to let people know that I’m not you’re damn answering service!”

  Amy had gotten to work on time, and though she was still reeling from the afternoon and all she’d learned, she managed to set it aside for now. That was a particularly defined talent of hers. Setting things aside. Living in Denial City.

  For now, she had to work; that’s what kept a roof over her head and food in her belly. She had no idea who’d possibly be calling her here at the diner, but she finished serving a customer his dinner and then picked up the phone in the kitchen. “Hello?”

  Nothing but a dial tone. She turned to Jan. “Who was it?”

  “Some guy.” Jan shrugged. “He wanted to talk to the waitress who’d been seen with the runaway teen.”

  Amy went still. “And you didn’t think that was odd?”

  Jan shrugged again. Not her problem.

  Amy had a bad feeling about this, very bad. To save money, she’d never gotten a landline at her apartment. This meant she couldn’t check on Riley, which she felt a sudden real need to do. “Going on break,” she said.

  Jan sputtered. “Oh, no. You just got here an hour ago.”

  Amy grabbed her keys. “I’ll be back.”

  “I said no.” Steam was coming out of Jan’s ears. “You’ve got a room full of hungry people.”

  Amy understood, but there was a sinking feeling in her gut that Riley needed her more. “Sorry.” She headed out the back door as Jan let out a furious oath.

  There was no Riley waiting at home.

  And no note.

  No nothing, though the clothes Amy had set out for Riley were gone. Unhappy, Amy left Riley a sticky note in case she came back, then returned to work, eyeing the door every time someone came in.

  But Riley never showed.

  At the end of Amy’s shift, Mallory and Grace arrived. Amy waved them to a booth, grabbed the plate of brownies she’d been saving as well as the charity jar from the counter, and joined them. She plopped down, put her feet up, head back, and sighed out a very long breath.

  “Long day?” Mallory asked sympathetically.

  Amy looked at Mallory. “You, I’m not talking to.”

  Mallory winced, guilt all over her face, clearly knowing Amy was referring to the Matt-to-the-rescue episode.

  Amy popped the lid off the money jar and pulled out a wad of cash, 100 percent of which would go directly to the teen center at the local health services clinic that Mallory ran. “Two hundred and fifty bucks. Even if I am mad at you.”

  “Luckily you’re not the type to hold a grudge,” Mallory said sweetly, taking the money.

  “I hope we’re going to talk about guys,” Grace said, picking out a brownie. “I’m in the middle of a man drought, and I need a thrill. I plan to live vicariously through you two.”

  “Ask Mallory here to set you up,” Amy said dryly.

  “Actually,” Mallory said, ignoring the jab, “there’re plenty of single guys around here. My brother’s newly single. Again.”

  “Yes but he’s a serial dater,” Amy said. “Even I know to stay away from serial daters.”

  “Even you?” Mallory asked.

  “I don’t date.” But she did, apparently, lust after sexy forest rangers who shared their tents and last Dr. Pepper.

  “Why?”

  Amy shrugged. “Not my thing.”

  “Again,” Mallory said. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I guess because I haven’t had much time for that sort of thing.”

  “That sort of thing?” Mallory repeated. “Honey, every woman has enough time for love. It’s what makes the world go round.”

  “No, that’s chocolate. And of course you think love makes the world go round. You’re getting lucky every night with Ty.”

  Mallory grinned. “True.” Her smile faded. “Tell me the truth—how bad did I screw up by sending Matt to the forest?”

  “Yes!” Grace whooped and pumped her fist. When Amy and Mallory stared at her, she winced. “Sorry. It’s just that we’re really going to dissect Amy’s life instead of mine.” Happy, she stuffed a brownie in her mouth.

  Mallory was looking expectantly at Amy, who gave in with a sigh. “It’s not your fault,” she admitted, digging into her own very large brownie. “I’m the idiot who got lost on the mountain. Matt helped me out. And then, because of a stupid tree, we ended up camping out overnight.”

  They both gasped, Mallory in delight, Grace in horror. “With no electricity?”

  Mallory laughed. “They spent the night together and that’s what you want to know? About the lack of electricity?”

  “Hey,” Grace said, “a woman’s morning routine is complicated enough with electricity.”

  “We didn
’t sleep together,” Amy said, then grimaced. “Well, at least not until I fell down a ravine trying to find a place to pee in private, sprained my wrist, cut my leg, bruised my ass and my ego, and had to be rescued again.” She waved her bandaged wrist for their viewing pleasure.

  Mallory’s eyes were wide. “You fell down a ravine going to pee, and he rescued you? Were your pants still around your ankles? Because that’s not a good look for anyone.”

  “No,” Amy said. “My pants were not around my ankles. But your concern is touching.” She kicked Mallory, who was snorting with laughter. “And how would that have been funny?”

  “Oh, trust me, it would have been. Come on, this is the stuff that chick flicks are made of—the classic meet-cute, you know? And a story for your kids someday.”

  “There will be no kids!”

  Mallory licked a brownie crumb from her finger. “I’d suggest that good girl lesson number five should be to keep your pants on during a first date, but the truth is I can’t really talk in that regard since I slept with Ty on our first date.”

  “Actually,” Amy said, “technically, you slept with Ty before your first date. And fine, if you must know my pants weren’t down when I fell but they might have come down shortly thereafter.”

  Grace and Mallory gasped in delighted tandem.

  “Get your heads out of the gutter,” Amy said. “I had a cut on my leg, and he had to doctor me up.”

  “Of course,” Grace said dryly, and then leaned forward, brownie forgotten. “What kind of undies were you wearing, a thong or granny panties?”

  “What does that matter?”

  “Oh, it matters,” Mallory said.

  “I can’t remember,” Amy lied.

  From the next booth over, a face popped up. It was Lucille, local art gallery owner and all-around gossip extraordinaire. She exited her booth and stood in front of the Chocoholics, a smile on her face. She wore eye-popping lime green sweats today with Skechers tennis shoes that gave her four-foot-nine-inch frame an extra few inches. Her steel-gray bun gave her a few more. She shoved a twenty into Amy’s now empty charity jar while sliding her dentures around some. “What’s this I hear about panties and Ranger Hot Buns?”

  Both Mallory and Grace pointed at Amy like the Two Stooges.

  Good friends.

  Amy pulled the entire plate of brownies toward herself. “Good girl lesson number six—don’t be traitors.” She looked at Lucille. “I had a little trouble out on the trail and got some assistance. End of story. Nothing more to report.”

  “But he rescued you from the latrine,” Lucille pressed. “I don’t suppose you have a pic?”

  “No!” She didn’t need a picture. Everything that had happened, from being rescued to the feeling of lying in Matt’s arms, was engrained in her brain.

  “Well, jeez,” Lucille said. “No need to get your panties in a twist.” She paused. “But if you did get your panties in a twist, what kind of panties would they be? You know, for accuracy in reporting’s sake?”

  Amy narrowed her eyes at her, and Lucille backed away. “Oops, look at the time—I’ve gotta skedaddle.”

  When she was gone, Mallory eyed the brownie plate.

  Amy tightened her grip on it. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Forget the brownies. What happened with Ranger Hot Buns?” Grace demanded to know.

  “We shared his tent,” Amy said. “Nothing happened.” Well, nothing except for some pretty amazing kisses…

  “Let me get this straight,” Grace said in disbelief. “You slept with Matt Bowers, the hottest guy in town, and nothing happened? Are you kidding me? That’s a crappy story.”

  “Matt’s pretty hot,” Mallory agreed. “But I wouldn’t say he’s the hottest guy in town. Because Ty’s pretty damn hot. I mean think about them, side by side…”

  There was a beat of silence as the three of them thought about the incredible hotness that was Ty and Matt, side by side. Amy let the image sink in and shivered, which she covered by stuffing another big bite of brownie into her mouth. There were certain things she knew for sure. When in doubt, eat chocolate. When stressed, eat chocolate. When in doubt and stressed, eat chocolate. Especially when that doubt and stress were related to a man and her feelings for said man.

  “Did you at least dream about all the things you would do to him?” Grace asked. “Cuz that’s what I’d have done.”

  Hell, yes, Amy had dreamed about all the things she’d like to do to Matt. Repeatedly. Not the point. “Yesterday he found a homeless teen up where we camped and brought her here to the diner. We fed her and then took her to my place so she could have a bed and a hot shower.”

  “We?” Mallory asked. “You took Matt home with you as well?”

  “He showed up on his own. I found him outside my house keeping watch.” She shook her head. “Not sure what that was about, to be honest.”

  “I bet he wanted to make sure you were okay,” Mallory said.

  Amy laughed, and Mallory and Grace exchanged a telling glance. “I’m always okay,” Amy said. “Probably he didn’t trust me not to screw it up.”

  “Honey.” Mallory covered Amy’s hand with her own. “Why wouldn’t Matt trust you?”

  Because no one ever had. But that was before, she reminded herself, before she’d worked so hard at growing up and separating herself from the past. She needed to remember that.

  Mallory squeezed her hand. “Can I ask you something?”

  “No, you can’t have another brownie. They’re all mine now.”

  Mallory smiled but shook her head. “Why would you give Riley a chance and not Matt?”

  “What are you talking about? Matt’s never wanted a chance with me.”

  “Oh, please.” Mallory gave her a get-real look. “The guy comes into the diner only when you’re working. He sits at your table, and he watches you the same way that Ty watches me.”

  “Yeah, and how’s that?” Amy asked.

  “Like you’re lunch.”

  Amy squirmed a little bit because deep down she knew it was true. She’d caught him at it. It never failed to evoke a multitude of emotions, not the least of which was an undeniable lust in return, but also something deeper and far more complicated than sheer desire.

  And that’s what made it so uncomfortable. That’s what scared her.

  “So I’ll ask you again,” Mallory said quietly. “Why not give him a shot?”

  It was a question for which Amy didn’t have the answer.

  Chapter 9

  A balanced diet is a chocolate in each hand.

  Matt knew he had a reputation for being laid-back and easygoing. He wasn’t sure that either of those things was exactly true, but part of the appearance came from being prepared for anything at any time.

  This ability had been honed in the military and then on the streets of Chicago. If a guy could survive warfare and SWAT, he could survive anything. Certainly one willowy, enigmatic, tough-nut-to-crack brunette named Amy Michaels.

  He wanted to see her again. He’d resisted for two days now, but then he caught sight of her at the front counter of the ranger station. His office was down a hallway so she hadn’t seen him, but he’d seen her just fine. After she left, his junior ranger manning the desk had said she’d asked for a map to Four Lakes.

  Matt had known she’d gone back up to Sierra Meadows the other day. He’d seen her there, amongst the diamond rocks, sketching. It’d taken all he’d had to leave her to the privacy she’d obviously wanted.

  But why was she suddenly out on the mountain on her days off, hiking alone? He didn’t know, but he wanted to, so he made it a point to patrol today instead of trying to conquer the mountain of paperwork in his office. Just as well since he’d been taking a ribbing all morning for a certain Facebook post that had gone up the other day, something about how he’d added two new duties to his job description: rescuing maidens and playing doctor.

  His staff had loved that. So had Josh and Ty, both of whom had call
ed him with the news like two little girls, the fuckers. Matt could only imagine what Amy thought of it.

  He found her just where he thought he would, up at Four Lakes. What he hadn’t expected was that she’d be about fifteen feet up a huge five-hundred-year-old spruce at the base of the first of the four lakes, which were connected by little tributaries.

  Amy was holding a sketch pad and was talking either to herself or to the tree.

  “If you fall,” she was saying, “you know who’s going to come get you, right? And just your luck, you’ll break your fat ass this time…”

  “Your ass isn’t fat,” Matt said, staring up at the long, toned leg hanging down. “It’s perfect. And what the hell are you doing up there?”

  She went still, then leaned over a branch and peered down at him. “I’m not lost.”

  “Good. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  This was met by silence and a rainfall of pine needles as she began to climb down. Her backpack dropped to the ground and then the sketch pad. Then those long legs came within reach, so Matt grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out of the tree. “Hey there, Tough Girl.”

  “Hey.” Her warm body slid down every inch of his, and there was a moment just before her feet touched the ground where he’d have sworn she even nestled into him.

  Or maybe that was his imagination, because then she stepped free. She was wearing jeans shorts, emphasis on short, and a V-neck tee that was loose enough to be hanging off one shoulder, revealing a bright blue bra strap. She had a scratch on her jaw and a smudge of dirt across her forehead. “The tree’s taller than I thought,” she said.

  “What were you looking for?”

  “Nothing important.”

  Nothing important, his ass. She wasn’t the type of woman to climb a tree just for the hell of it. But if he knew anything about her, it was that he couldn’t push for answers. He needed a diversion for now, then he’d work his way back to the subject at hand. “How’s Riley?” He’d heard back from Sawyer that the teen wasn’t a missing person, or even a person of interest, so there’d been no legal reason to interfere in her life again. But he wanted to know that she was okay.