Buch lesen: «Hold Me»

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

NO ONE WOKE UP in the morning and thought to themselves, Today I’m going to get lost in the woods. But even without a plan, it happened.

Maybe it was simply that innate human need to explore. Maybe it was bad luck, or maybe it was just people being idiots. Grandma Nell had always loved to say, “Beauty is skin deep, but stupid goes clear down to the bone.” Not that Destiny Mills was going to be judgmental either way. People got lost, and her job was to make sure they got found. It was kind of like being a superhero. Only instead of laser vision or invisibility, she had a brilliant computer software program and a finely honed search and rescue team.

Well, technically the team wasn’t hers. It belonged to whatever town or county had hired her company. Her firm had created the software program, and she was one of three facilitators who helped those wanting to use it. She showed up, trained the search and rescue group and then moved on to the next assignment.

If it was Monday, she must be in Fool’s Gold, she thought humorously as she stepped into her small, temporary office. Fool’s Gold, California. Population 125,482 per the sign she’d seen on her way in. Nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, the town attracted tourists by the thousands. They came in winter to ski, in summer to hike and camp and all year long to attend the dozens of festivals that had put the community on the map.

None of which concerned her. What was of more interest were the literally hundreds of thousands of acres right outside the city borders. Uncharted wilderness with plenty of slopes, gullies, streams and caves. Places where people got lost. And when someone was lost, who you gonna call?

Destiny chuckled as the Ghostbusters theme music played in her head. She didn’t know about anyone else, but for her, life was a soundtrack. Music was everywhere. Notes formed melodies, and melodies were little more than memories to be recalled. Hear a song from your high school prom and you were back in your boyfriend’s arms.

She settled in her chair and plugged her laptop into the docking station. She only had a week or so to get up and running before the real work began. For the next three months she would be mapping the terrain, feeding the information into the incredibly intelligent software her company used and training the local search and rescue team. She was the point of contact, the human connection. And in three months she would move on to another part of the country and do it all again.

She liked the moving around. She liked always being somewhere new. She made friends easily and then just as easily left them behind when it was time to go. There would be more friends at the next new place. Sure, there was a lack of continuity, but on the upside, she was spared the emotional drama that went with long-term friendships. Whether it was her getting close to them or them getting close to her, relationships could be exhausting.

She’d grown up in a family that made any of the “real housewives” shows look as interesting as reading the phone book. Reality TV had nothing on her parents. As an adult, she got to choose whether or not she wanted that drama, and she’d decided she didn’t. Destiny had deliberately picked a job and a lifestyle that allowed her to forever be moving on.

But for the next few months she would enjoy the small-town quirkiness of Fool’s Gold. She’d already read up on the place and was looking forward to sampling plenty of local flavor.

Right on time, the door to her small office opened. Destiny recognized the tall, blond, good-looking guy standing in the doorway. Not that they’d met before—she’d been hired by the mayor, not by him—but she’d seen him on plenty of magazine covers, television interviews and internet articles.

She stood and smiled. “Hi, I’m Destiny Mills.”

“Kipling Gilmore.”

His eyes were a darker blue than she’d expected, and he had that easy grace that most likely came from a lifetime of being an athlete. Because he wasn’t just Kipling Gilmore. He was the Kipling Gilmore. Famous athlete. Superstar skier. Olympic gold medalist. The press had called him G-Force, because on skis, at least, he went for speed. Rules of physics be damned. He could do things that had never been done. At least until the crash.

They shook hands. He handed her a small, pink bakery box. “To help you settle in.”

She lifted the lid and saw a half-dozen doughnuts. The scent of glaze and cinnamon drifted to her. It was intoxicating and made her instantly want fifteen minutes alone with her sugar fix.

“Thank you,” she said. “Way better than flowers.”

“I’m glad you think so. When did you get to town?”

“Yesterday. I got to Sacramento the night before and made the short drive in the morning.”

“You’re settling in okay?”

“I am, and I’m excited to get to work.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

They both sat. She angled her laptop toward him and tapped on several keys.

“There are two major parts to getting the search and rescue software functional,” she began. “Mapping the physical geography of the area and then getting you and your team trained on how to use it.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“It always does, and then reality sets in.”

One eyebrow rose. “Is that a challenge?”

“No. I’m simply saying the process takes time. STORMS can adapt to nearly any situation. The success or failure of a search is usually a combination of information and luck. My goal is to take luck out of the equation.”

STORMS—Search Team Rescue Management Software—worked with the rescue team. Data was fed into the system, and the program then projected the most likely areas to search first. The more information known about the person missing, terrain, time of year and weather conditions, the faster the search went. Each searcher had GPS tracking information on his or her person. That information was sent back to the software so the search could be updated in real time.

As more areas were eliminated, the search was narrowed until the missing person was found.

“I’ll start mapping the area in the next day or so,” she continued.

“How does that happen?”

“First by air. We use a helicopter and various kinds of equipment to supplement the satellite data we already have. The heavily wooded areas and steep mountainsides will have to be mapped on foot.”

“You do that?”

While the question was polite enough, the tone suggested he wasn’t a believer. Silly man, she thought with a smile.

“Yes, Kipling. I can hike when necessary. If the areas are too remote, I take in local guides.”

“I thought you were a city girl. Didn’t someone tell me you live in Austin?”

“That’s home base for me, yes. But I grew up near the Smoky Mountains. I can hold my own in the great outdoors.”

What she didn’t mention was that when she’d been younger, she’d spent several years living with her maternal grandmother in those same mountains. In addition to knowing her way around rugged terrain, she could fish and knew three ways to cook squirrel, but she wasn’t going to share that. Tell someone you grilled a mean steak and you were applauded. Mention squirrel stew with root vegetables and they looked at you like you were in league with cannibals. People were funny, but she’d known that for a long time.

“Then I’ll trust you to take care of business,” he told her. “When does your helicopter arrive?”

She checked her calendar. “By the end of the week. It’s going to be a busy summer. Once we get the geography into the database, we’ll start testing the system. That means looking for people who aren’t really lost.”

Humor pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I read the material.”

“Good to know. Does that mean you also open instruction manuals?”

He hesitated just long enough for her to start laughing.

“I didn’t think so,” she said. “What is it with men and instructions? Or asking for directions?”

“We don’t like to admit when we don’t know something.”

“Ridiculous. No one knows everything.”

“We can try.”

No surprise there, she thought. Bravado seemed to go hand in hand with being male. Another reason she’d had so much trouble finding the right one. She wanted an absence of bravado and minimal ego. When emotions got riled, the opposite sex could be counted on to act crazy, and there was no place for crazy in her life.

“Are you going to have a problem taking instructions from me?” she asked. “Because if you are, we need to get that taken care of right this minute. I can arm wrestle you into submission, if necessary.”

Kipling laughed. “I doubt that.”

“Be careful with your assumptions. My grandma taught me a lot of dirty tricks. I know places to dig in a knuckle and make a grown man scream like a little girl. And not in a happy way.”

“There’s a happy way to scream like a little girl?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve had to use that threat before, and some men think I’m talking about sex. I’m not.”

His gaze settled on her face. “Interesting.”

“So, am I going to have a problem with you?”

“No.”

“Then this will be a good summer. I’ve never had a job in California before. I’m looking forward to getting to know the area.”

“The town is a little strange.”

“In what way?”

He sat easily in his chair. There was no squirming, no sense that he wanted to be somewhere else. He had patience, she thought. He would have to. Waiting out bad weather, waiting out the seasons. Needing conditions to be right.

Kipling Gilmore had won big at the Sochi Olympics, then disaster had struck a few months later. She wasn’t one to follow sports, so she didn’t know many of the details. Obviously, he’d recovered enough to take the job of heading the Fool’s Gold search and rescue team. She wondered if he’d had trouble adjusting to regular life.

She knew it could be difficult for those cursed with fame to try to live like ordinary mortals.

“Everybody here knows everybody’s business,” he said.

Right. She’d asked him about the town. “That’s not uncommon for small towns.”

“Yeah, but it’s different here. People here are more involved. We’ll talk in a couple of weeks and see what you think. The festivals are interesting, and you don’t have to lock your doors at night. If you live near the center of town, you don’t need a car very often.”

“Sounds nice.” Despite having her home base in Austin, she wasn’t really a big-city girl. She preferred the eccentricities of a small town.

“Have you met Mayor Marsha yet?” Kipling asked.

Destiny shook her head. “No. She hired me, but it was all done through my boss. I have a meeting with her later today.”

Amusement returned to his eyes. “I’ll be there, too. I think you’re going to like her. She’s California’s longest-serving mayor. She looks like a sweet old lady, but she’s actually pretty tough and keeps firm control over her town. She gets things done, and sometimes I’ve left wondering what just happened.”

Qualities she could totally get behind. “I like her already.”

“I thought you might.” He stood. “Welcome to Fool’s Gold, Destiny.”

She rose, as well. “Thank you.”

As he left her office, she let her gaze drift over his body. He was in great shape, she thought, admitting he was just charming enough to make her wonder if there was any potential there.

She shook her head, because she already knew the answer, and it was no. No way, no how. She wanted ordinary. Regular. The kind of man who understood that life was best lived quietly. Kipling, aka G-Force, had roared down a mountain at who knew what speed. He was a thrill seeker at heart, which meant not for her.

She would simply keep looking. Because the man of her very own calm, rational dreams was out there, and one day she would find him.

* * *

KIPLING CROSSED THE STREET. As he waited for one of the few traffic lights in Fool’s Gold to change to green, he glanced up at the mountains. Now that it was late spring, he could look at them and not feel anything. The only remaining snow was up at elevations that didn’t allow for skiing. So there was no sense of loss, no reminder that he would never again be able to fight the mountain and win. That the sense of flying on snow was lost forever.

He knew what his friends would say, what the doctors would tell him. That he was damned lucky to have made as much of a recovery as he had. That he could walk and that was its own miracle. Anything else was gravy.

Kipling heard the words. On his good days he even believed them. But the rest of the time, he avoided thinking about what had been lost. When it got bad, he simply stopped looking at the mountains.

The light changed, and he crossed the street. As he walked he considered the fact that it might have been easier to simply find a job somewhere there weren’t mountains. There were flat places. Maybe in the Midwest or Florida. Only he couldn’t imagine what that must be like. To look up and see nothing but sky. He might have an uneasy relationship with the mountains; he might equally love and hate them, but there was no way he could be away from them. They were a part of him. It would be easier to cut off an arm than live without them.

“Hey, Kipling.”

He waved automatically at the woman pushing a stroller who had greeted him. Fool’s Gold was a friendly kind of place. Where neighbors knew each other and tourists were welcomed as much for their presence as the money they brought with them.

He was used to people he’d never met knowing who he was. That came with the celebrity he had been. Only being in Fool’s Gold was different. More intense, maybe. This town wasn’t just a place. It was a living, breathing essence.

He shook his head, wondering where all that had come from. He didn’t usually think too much about things. He was a doer, preferring to move than sit still. Which had made his recovery a particular brand of hell. But that was behind him now. Except for the scars, the limp and the dull aches that would be with him always, he was healed. And walking.

He headed into his offices at the corner of Eighth Street and Frank Lane, right by one of the fire stations and the police station. No one was going to break in, he thought with a grin. Or party too hard in this neighborhood.

As he unlocked the front door and stepped inside, he reminded himself that years ago he would have chafed at being so close to any kind of authority. That he’d believed that with the ability to fly down a mountain came the right to party as hard as he wanted, and damn the consequences. As long as he beat the clock by even a thousandth of a second, he was a god. At least until the next race.

But time had a way of maturing people. He’d been dragged kicking and screaming into adulthood, and here he was, running the town’s search and rescue program. Who would have guessed?

And while his younger self would have mocked authority, even as a kid he’d respected the mountains and those who saved those unfortunate or stupid enough to get themselves lost. He’d been caught in an avalanche once. The local ski patrol had saved his ass.

He’d always been lucky, he thought. Until last summer when he’d had his crash. He’d known one day his luck would run out, and he accepted that it had. Now he was onto another chapter in his life. He had a problem, and he’d fixed it. That was what he liked to do. And in this job, there was going to be plenty of fixing. Or finding.

He walked to his desk and turned on his computer. The office was new enough that he could still smell the fresh paint, and the plants that had been delivered as a sort of welcome were still alive. Kipling considered himself more of a people person than a plant person. Eventually, there would be staff, and he could rope one of them into watering and feeding the plants.

He turned his chair so he could study the huge map that dominated the main wall. It showed the fifty or so square miles around Fool’s Gold. There were vineyards to the west, and the road to Sacramento went south. So his main area of concern was east and north. The rugged mountains of the Sierra Nevada rose up quickly. There were a thousand ways to get lost out there, and he was confident tourists and locals alike would find every one of them.

He rose and walked closer to the map. The terrain grew rough within just a few miles of town. There were dozens of popular hiking trails and camping spots. Just last year, there’d been a flash flood through a campground. The rushing waters had endangered a group of girls and their leaders. He wanted to make sure that didn’t happen again. That if someone got lost, he or she would be found quickly and safely.

With the new software program, searching would be easy. He knew there would be a learning curve, but in the end, the effort would be worth it.

As soon as Mayor Marsha had told him about the new program, he’d started reading up on it. The results were impressive, and he was looking forward to learning the ins and outs of the system.

And maybe of Destiny Mills, as well, he thought with a grin. She was beautiful. Tall, curvy. A redhead—his personal weakness. There was something about the combination of red hair and pale skin that got his attention. And if she had freckles, all the better. A man could go looking for freckles and not resurface for days.

She was his type in other ways. Single, according to scuttlebutt, and in town for a limited amount of time. He was a man who enjoyed serial monogamy. Having a predetermined expiration date on a relationship was his idea of perfection. If the lady was interested, he was more than willing. At least in the short-term.

Every now and then he wondered if he should want more. That forever thing other people seemed to seek. He’d seen love. He even believed in it. But he’d never felt it. Not the romantic kind. Lust, sure. Liking, absolutely. He loved his sister and his country. He would do anything for a friend. But fall crazy, let’s-get-married in love? That hadn’t happened.

At this point, he figured it wasn’t going to. And he could live with that.

* * *

MAYOR MARSHA WAS in her late sixties, with white hair swept up in a loose bun and piercing blue eyes. Her suit was tailored, her pearls luminous, and she had a kind smile that made Destiny feel immediately at home.

“Welcome to Fool’s Gold,” the mayor said, her voice warm. “It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Destiny shook hands the way Grandma Nell had taught her—firmly, while looking the other person in the eye. You’re a human being, not a fish. You should act like it. Because Grandma Nell had advice for every situation. Not all of it was appropriate, or even helpful, but it was nearly always memorable.

“I’m happy to be here,” Destiny told the mayor. “We’re going to have a good summer getting STORMS in place.”

“Your boss, David, said I would enjoy working with you, and I can see he was right. I like your attitude,” the mayor told her. The other woman looked past her and nodded. “Here comes the rest of our meeting.”

Destiny turned and saw Kipling strolling into the mayor’s office. There was no other way to describe the easy way he moved. A neat trick, she thought, taking in the slight limp that no doubt came from the horrific crash he’d survived the previous year. What must he have been like back before the accident?

If she were someone else, looking for something different, Kipling would be a temptation, she thought. But he wasn’t or she wasn’t. Regardless, he was wrong for her, and she knew better than to start down the wrong path. She’d seen way too many emotional disasters in her life to take the chance. Sometimes you take on the bear and sometimes the bear takes you on. If it’s the latter, then you’d better run like hell.

Destiny held in a chuckle. Yup, Grandma Nell had always had a practical streak in her. She would take one look at Kipling, push Destiny aside and ask for a little privacy. Then she would have her way with him and toss him aside. Because the relationship drama she’d grown up with hadn’t started with her parents, although they’d been the worst offenders. No, bad marriages and broken hearts went back generations on both sides.

Kipling hugged the mayor, then kissed her cheek before nodding at Destiny.

“Good to see you again,” he said.

“You, too.”

Mayor Marsha led them to a seating area in the corner of her office. Once they’d claimed their places, she began the meeting.

“Destiny, the town is thrilled to have you here, helping us launch our HERO program.”

Destiny nodded even as she glanced at Kipling. She saw him wince, and couldn’t resist pretending she didn’t know what the mayor was talking about.

“HERO program?”

“Help Emergency Rescue Operations,” Mayor Marsha told her. “What we’re calling Fool’s Gold’s search and rescue organization. We held a contest, people submitted names. The city council narrowed it down to ten, and then we voted. HERO won.”

“It’s still a stupid name,” Kipling grumbled.

Destiny held in a grin. “You don’t like being a hero?”

“Let’s just say I take a lot of crap about the name.”

“Challenges build character,” she murmured, thinking he’d probably liked G-Force a whole lot better.

“Yet another place I’m not lacking.”

He winked as he spoke, which made her want to laugh. But this was supposed to be a professional setting, so instead she turned her attention back to Mayor Marsha.

“STORMS will work well for what you have in mind.”

“I’m counting on it,” the mayor told her. “We were very lucky to get the money we needed. Between our federal and state grants and a very sizable anonymous local donation, we’re fully funded for the next five years. Including your part in this.”

Impressive, Destiny thought. STORMS didn’t come cheap. With the software itself, the equipment required, the expense of mapping and training a team, the price was over a million dollars. And that didn’t include the cost of running a search and rescue operation.

“We’ve had excellent success with our software,” she said. “Your terrain is perfectly suited for what we do best.”

“Excellent. You and Kipling have a plan?”

Kipling sat as relaxed as he had before. “We’re getting one together. Destiny has to map the area and feed the information into her software. Then we’ll do some beta testing on the program. We’ll make the August first deadline.”

“Good.” Mayor Marsha nodded at Kipling, then turned back to Destiny. “Do you agree that we’ll meet our deadline?”

“We’re on schedule to have the program up and running by mid-July. The extra two weeks are a buffer I’m hoping we don’t need.”

Destiny didn’t like unexpected problems. Part of her job was anticipating issues before they happened. She prided herself on a smooth rollout.

“And how is Starr settling in to life in Fool’s Gold?”

The mayor’s shift in topic caught Destiny by surprise. Worse, it took her a second to remember who Starr was and why, for the first time in over a decade, she suddenly had someone other than herself to worry about.

“She’s, ah, doing okay. I guess. We just got into town yesterday.”

The mayor nodded knowingly. “Yes, it must be difficult for both of you. She’s your half sister, isn’t she? You have the same father but different mothers?”

Destiny felt her mouth start to drop open. She consciously kept her lips together as she nodded. “Yes, that’s right,” she said cautiously, not comfortable discussing her family. Because it was so much better when people didn’t know.

She glanced at Kipling, who looked only mildly interested in their conversation. Did he know who she was? He hadn’t hinted that he did.

“Fifteen is a difficult age.” Mayor Marsha shook her head. “That’s about when the trouble started with my own daughter. She was a headstrong girl. And that was a very long time ago. As for you and Starr, I hope you’ll consider Fool’s Gold your home as long as you’re here. If you need anything, just let me know. Oh, I have something for you.”

She walked back to her desk where she picked up a folder. She returned to the sofa and handed it to Destiny.

“We have a summer camp here. End Zone for Kids. It’s up in the mountains. There are a lot of interesting programs for young people. I think Starr would enjoy the drama classes, along with music, of course. You’re going to be busy, and a fifteen-year-old shouldn’t be left home alone all day.”

“I, ah, thank you.”

Destiny didn’t know what else to say. How had the mayor known Starr’s age? Or that she was home alone? Although maybe the latter wasn’t hard to figure out. After all, Destiny wasn’t home with her, and they’d been in town less than two days.

Guilt followed that realization. Because Starr was by herself. At fifteen she should be fine, but that wasn’t the point.

“There are charming festivals all summer,” the mayor continued. “I hope you’ll take advantage of them while you’re here. Fool’s Gold is a wonderful place to live.”

Somehow Destiny found herself outside the office. She didn’t remember walking there or saying goodbye. It was the strangest sensation.

Kipling stood next to her. He flashed her a grin. “Kind of wondering what just happened?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll get used to it. Nice idea about the camp for your sister.”

Destiny nodded. There was no way she was going to explain that until ten days ago, she’d never even met Starr. That between them, her parents had been married twelve or fourteen times, and there were dozens of step-whatevers and a few half siblings floating around the country. No one could keep up with it all, and Destiny had stopped trying years ago.

She held the folder tightly. “Speaking of my sister, I should probably get home and check on her.”

“Sure. I’ll catch you later.”

Right. Work. She forced herself to focus. “We need to talk about the training schedule.”

“Give me your phone.”