CHAPTER ONE

TRAVIS (SASQUATCH)

Night pressed down on me, the whirring of chopper blades stirring the air into a wild tempest, chaotic and confusing. Wind whipped and the screaming of hundreds—maybe thousands—of voices pulled at something inside me, bringing terror bubbling to a simmer just below the surface.

I stood ready to help, but I was blinded by the darkness, by the fierce slash of dust thrown at me by the helicopter. Who was I supposed to help?

Babies cried, women screamed. And in the background, shattering the persistent noise around me, explosions rocked the night.

My stomach roiled and sweat coated my skin beneath the heavy uniform I wore, under the Kevlar I knew was a paltry protection against what was likely to happen to me here.

A woman appeared in my field of vision, her head swathed in a bright blue scarf that stood out vibrant and shocking against the smear of darkness closing in on us.

Her dark eyes met mine and the terrifying noise faded, my vision beginning to tunnel until I all saw was the desperation and fear in her fathomless gaze.

“Take him,” she said, her voice coming as if down a tunnel. “Save him.” She pushed a bundle into my arms and vanished. I looked down to see what I held, what she’d given me, and the tiny pink face of a baby stared up at me.

The scream built low in my belly, spurred on by fear, by horror, by the knowledge I couldn’t do anything against the force of this situation. I was one man, and even the scream I’d muster against the inevitability of death all around me would be impotent and futile.

When the sound ripped from my chest, it was more like a cry for help, a smothered, muffled gasp that had more to do with the pressure on my chest and my inability to breathe than the baby I held. I tried to suck in a lungful of air, but the pressure built, and then . . . rain?

Why was my face wet?

Why was my nose suddenly full of the stench of foul, musty heat?

Why . . . I pushed the heavy lump off my chest and sat up, sleep fading slowly as my vision cleared.

“Roscoe.” My voice was gritty and harsh, as if I’d carried sand home from the nightmare inside my lungs.

Roscoe stood on the bed at my side, breathing his heavy dog breath into my face, and gave me one more sloppy lick for good measure, accompanied by a low whine.

“I’m fine. It was just the dream.” Relief surged through me, along with the familiar feeling of failure, disappointment.

The dog seemed reassured by the fact I was now upright and speaking—had I been screaming before?—and he settled again at my side, curling against my legs. Roscoe was good at his job, which was unofficially to keep me sane. When I’d gotten home, it had been clear to me I needed some kind of support, and a dog felt like the right solution. Roscoe was my best friend, and my lookout. I sank my hands into his thick fur.

I was glad one of us could get back to sleep. I already knew it would be pointless for me to try. That dream—more of a memory really—it was one I could never quite push aside when I wanted to. Whenever it appeared, I grit my teeth and lowered my head, recognizing that there was nothing for it but try to get through the discomfort. It was kind of like bumping into my mom’s friend Lilac when I was back home. She’d talk your ear off for hours about goiter and backgammon, but you had to suffer through it or Mom’d teach you a lesson in manners when she heard you’d been rude.

Not that I’d been home in a while. Sometimes even suffering through one of Lilac’s hugs and monologues about the new recipe she was perfecting for mince pie might be a nice alternative to my reality.

Roscoe whined again at my side, dog language for “go back to sleep, moron,” I figured.

“Can’t, buddy. You get some sleep.” I pushed off the twisted heap of covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed, letting out a sigh.

Ten minutes later, I was dressed and heading down the long hallway to the elevator. I’d hit the gym before most folks were even awake, and then head down into the kitchen to get the rolls baking.

Since the resort had lost our pastry chef, I’d discovered a knack for basic baking, and Ghost—the resort owner and an old friend who was tolerating me hanging out here—seemed to appreciate my willingness to get up at hours no one else wanted to take on.

The resort fitness center was empty when I used my key to unlock the door. Not a real shock, since the guests here were mostly on vacation, and normal people didn’t get up to work out at three in the morning when they were supposed to be relaxing.

As I pounded out a few miles on the treadmill, I pushed the last remnants of the dream from my mind, wishing I could somehow banish it permanently. That was the one that got me the most, that woman. The baby in my arms.

It hadn’t really happened. It was an amalgam of things that had, or of stories I’d been told by the other people who’d served in that disastrous mess. I wanted to forget it all.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? The thing that had cost me everything I’d once thought would be mine.

You didn’t forget things like that.

If you were lucky, maybe you shoved them to the back of your mind so you could do your best to be a regular guy when you were around other people, and you didn’t let anyone close enough to see what was really going on.

Only Roscoe really knew, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t tell anyone.

CHAPTER TWO

CEECEE

“I was ninety-nine percent sure I was going to die this morning.” The man in the passenger seat of the van, Vince from Columbus, laughed as he delivered this statement, and I grinned right back at him.

“You’re not the first guy to think that when we hit the rapids on that first stretch,” I told him, guiding the van around a smooth curve in the two-lane road heading back to the Kasper Ridge Resort. “But you handled it like a champion. You all did,” I added, glancing back to where his wife sat with their four kids. “Did you have fun?”

“Is fun the right word?” Liz asked. She’d arrived in the lobby this morning after her husband had signed the family up for a rafting trip, and announced that she had no intention of going. But he’d cajoled her into my van, and through the training, and she’d finally strapped on her helmet and life jacket willingly.

I didn’t blame her for having reservations. They had four kids, ranging from eleven to seventeen. Moms worried. Dads did too, I knew, but I’d seen this exact scenario lots of times. Moms worried a little differently. And river rafting could be dangerous.

But I was good at my job.

“All of you did great,” I assured her. “And if you want to come out for something a little less aggressive, we’re doing stand-up paddle-boarding at the lake tomorrow afternoon.”

“Dad, let’s do it!” Seth, the oldest, piped up.

“Sure,” Vince said.

“I think I might just spend the day with a book, or take a hike,” Liz said. “No more adventure. No offense.” She added that last part quickly, as if adventure was something I had a personal stake in.

“No worries,” I told her. “It’s your vacation. You should do things you want to do.”

We pulled up in front of the resort, and the family piled out of the van onto the curb in front of the gracious timber and glass structure. The Resort had been given new life in the last year, thanks to the unexpected arrival of Archie and Aubrey Kasper and their collection of friends, most of whom had flown with Archie when he was in the Navy.

I’d known the resort opening would be good for my adventure outfitter and guide business, but I hadn’t realized just how good. At this point, I’d had to hire full-time staff to help lead adventures, and I was doing quadruple the business I’d been doing before the resort came back to life. 

But the best thing that had happened since the Kasper Ridge Resort had opened was the friendship I’d struck up with outdoor influencer Douggie Masters, who I was pretty sure was about to change my life.

I watched the family from Columbus head inside and parked the van in the employee lot, and then jogged inside.

“Hey you!” Lucy was seated at the end of the bar, and she rose as I entered, her dark mass of curly hair pulled into a sleek braid over one shoulder and her petite frame sporting an adorable sundress.

“Look at you,” I gushed, leaning in to give her a hug. “You’re all dolled up and I smell like sweat and sunscreen.”

“You always smell like sweat and sunscreen,” she reminded me, retaking her stool. “And I hardly ever get out these days. It was worth a little time on hair and makeup.” Lucy and her husband Will had a three-month old son, and Lucy had complained often that her entire life had changed before she’d really realized what she signed up for. But that didn’t change the fact that my friend was happier than I’d ever seen her.

“You look great. Will and Teague doing okay?”

Lucy laughed. “Will is the most doting father I’ve ever seen. But I think he’s desperate for Teague to grow past the sleeping and pooping phase and into the part where he puts on a glove and plays catch, or asks about being a pilot.”

“I get it. He wants to do dad stuff,” I said as Wiley, the bar manager at the resort waved a hand at me, letting me know he’d be right down.

“Well, changing diapers and going to pick him up at three a.m. is all the dad stuff there is right now. The kid’s not going to do tricks and stunts for a while.”

I laughed, imagining Lucy’s adorable son doing any kind of tricks or stunts.

After Wiley pulled a beer for me and set a glass of wine in front of Lucy, I turned to face my friend.

“So, I’ve got some news.”

Her face lit up and she clapped her hands in front of her. “Oh good. Your news is bound to be more exciting than anything I’ve got going on at this point. Spill.”

The giddiness I’d been fighting all day rocketed through me, sending my words out in a rush. “Remember when Douggie Masters from Out and Outside was here for the grand opening?”

Lucy nodded. The opening of the resort had been attended by several media outlets, but the biggest was Douggie, who had a crazy popular YouTube show that featured him on various outdoor adventures around the world, sometimes with his husband in tow. He’d kind of become my idol, seeing the world, experiencing everything there was to experience.

“When he was here, he told me about this contest he was running with Outdoor Adventures, that show on Netfilms, where the winner gets featured on the show and wins fifty thousand dollars to go on the adventure of their dreams.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped open. “You won?”

“Not yet,” I said, wiggling a bit in my seat. “But I’m one of the finalists! They’re sending a crew out next week to film some of the lead-up segments. Kind of a slice of life.” I felt ready to leap out of my seat, sharing this news. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and my chance to be like Douggie, see the world.

“So you’re going to be on the show either way,” she said, understanding making her eyes light up as she clapped her hands and then pulled me into a hug.

“Yep! And I’m hoping I win the whole thing. The trip would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see something outside of Kasper Ridge. Like, way outside.”

“Where would you go?”

“I said Africa.” Even the word held a certain mystique for me.

“Africa, huh? Big continent... any specific part?”

I grinned, furious glee bubbling up inside me as I told Lucy about the dream trip I’d planned in my head—the one winning this contest could turn into reality. “There are so many things I want to do, but the trip I sketched out for the network would include climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, a guided tour through the Ugandan jungles to see gorillas, and finally a more touristy part to Luxor to see the temples and the Valley of the Kings.”  

“Oh, you already had to decide the details?”

I nodded, thinking about the application I’d spent hours working on, the video I’d submitted. And remembering the one thing I’d stretched the truth about forced a heavy sigh from my lungs. “There’s just one little thing.”

“What? Why do you look like that? Like someone just stole your beer?”

I glanced at my beer, but it was still there, right where I’d left it on the bar top. That was a relief. But I still had a problem.

“Douggie told me they really wanted to feature a couple as the winners and that my odds would be much better if I submitted as part of a duo.”

“Who’s your duo?” Lucy’s forehead wrinkled.

I smiled, hoping Lucy would skip the chastising and come up with a solution for my problem.

“I told a little fib...”

Lucy dropped her forehead into her hand. “You didn’t.”

“I told them I run my tours with my boyfriend, and that he’d go on the trip too.” Admitting this brought the reality of it crashing down. I didn’t have a boyfriend—I didn’t even have someone I could ask to be a date to a movie, let alone pretend to own a business with me. Desperation threatened to ruin the excitement I’d felt over being selected a finalist.

“Need I point out the obvious?” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t have a boyfriend. Unless I’ve missed more than I thought.”

I shook my head miserably, taking a sip of my beer to console myself. “No. I don’t have a boyfriend. Longest dry spell on earth continues.”

“And they’re coming next week? Won’t they be expecting to meet this non-existent guy?”

“I tried to get Jensen to agree to pretend.” I couldn’t even look at Lucy as I admitted the depths of my desperation.

Lucy laughed. “Your brother is the least adventurous person I’ve ever met. Though driving that taxi is pretty adventurous, actually.”

“He got new tires last month.” Jensen was the only ride share driver in Kasper Ridge, and he’d been operating on a bit of a shoestring budget for a while.

“That’s a relief.” She ran a finger down the globe of her wine glass, collecting condensation on her fingertip. “No one would buy you guys as a couple, anyway. You look like twins and bicker like enemies. So what will you do?”

It was a hard talking to Lucy about this. She was the owner and operator of Dale Construction, the firm that had helped finish renovations on the resort. She was a badass, and I doubted she’d ever have gotten herself into this situation. My business was like a lemonade stand on the sidewalk next to Dale Construction, and I suddenly felt like a hack.

“I have no idea.” I took a long swallow of my beer and let my eyes wander the crowded bar as the situation I’d gotten myself into rolled through my mind like a pin studded tennis ball. Ouch. Then my gaze landed on a tall broad figure at the entrance, the man who’d just stepped into the space, his dog at his side.

I perked. “Actually,” I told Lucy. ”I might have one idea.”

***

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