Guiding the Fall

Chapter One

If boredom was the devil’s playground, Olivia Golden thought the Golden Rule Raft and Fly Shop was ground zero of hell. August marched toward September in south central Colorado. The rafting season was coming to a close, her best friend and roommate had moved across the country to marry the love of her life, and her brother—who also happened to be her boss—was driving her crazy. At least her upcoming semester of student-teaching middle school would be a new experience.

She’d organized the racks of T-shirts, sorted the baskets of water shoes, and wiped the fingerprints from the sunglasses on the revolving rack by the door. She was looking forward to an afternoon of waitressing at the Golden Tap after a dull morning spent checking in guests and babysitting merchandise.

The phone ringing provided a nice, if brief, relief. She recognized the Denver area code and picked up the receiver while twirling her blond hair. “Golden Rule Raft and Fly Shop. Olivia speaking.”

“Hello, Olivia.” The deep voice on the other end of the line purred her name as if he were standing in the small shop admiring her assets. Olivia was used to men fawning over her looks. She’d flirted with many men of the men who chose the adventure of white water rafting on the Rio Grande River. She felt sure she’d never heard that particular voice before; the throaty resonance reminded her of her dad’s 1969 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1, ripe and ready to attack dangerous curves.

“Hello,” she replied, keeping her voice neutral. Men like him, whose virility was as obvious as a Vegas call girl’s, needed little encouragement. “Can I help you?”

“I’ll just bet you can. My sister and I are heading into town and looking for a little adventure.”

Then go somewhere else, she wanted to say, but she opted for the standard, “The Golden Rule is your one-stop spot for fun in the valley.”

The timbre of his chuckle made goose flesh break out on her skin. “All my fun in one spot, huh? That’s a hefty claim.”

Why did he make everything sound like it was about sex? “Between river rafting and fly fishing, we’ve got you covered.”

“Speaking of covers…”

Okay, Olivia thought. Even for her, the conversation was getting a little too weird. “Would you like to book a trip?”

“I’m just calling for information. We won’t be there for another few weeks, possibly longer.”

“The rafting season typically ends at the end of September; sometimes earlier if the weather takes a turn for the cold as it’s known to do.”

“I guess I’ll have to take my chances.”

“So what information may I provide?”

“Just the basics. I like to look before I leap.”

Something told her that particular stranger would take a nice, long look. The kind that would leave her trapped in his stare. “We can seat six to eight on each raft, as well as a certified guide. We use smaller rafts if there aren’t as many people in a group. Depending on the weather, we’ve got wetsuits available. Will it just be you and your sister?”

“Just us.”

“Have either of you rafted before?”

“Now, love, if we’d rafted before, I wouldn’t have called for information, now would I?”

Smart-ass. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” She picked up a pen and nudged the calendar toward where she leaned against the counter. “Would you like to make a reservation?”

“Are you a guide?”

“Yes.”

“Can we request certain guides?”

“Request? Yes. Guarantee? No.”

Olivia rubbed her arm when his chuckle floated over her skin. She’d never been so affected by someone’s voice before. “You’re a firecracker, love. I like it.”

“So about that reservation…” she prodded. She didn’t mind flirting—it sure beat standing around watching the clock like she’d been doing before the phone rang—but the guy could be a serial killer for all she knew. Or have three teeth in his mouth.

“I think I’ll hold off for a bit, but thanks for the information, Olivia.”

“Don’t wait too long. The season can end unexpectedly depending on the water flow and the weather.”

“I’ll put it in fate’s hands. You have a good day, Olivia.”

“You, too.”

Olivia whipped her head around when the doorbells jangled, signaling a customer, just as she hung up. She watched her brother rush inside with a large box in one hand and a takeout cup of coffee in the other. “What is that?” she asked.

Tommy lifted the box to the counter and smoothed out the front of his Colorado Rockies shirt. His muscular display reminded her how attractive her brother was. Sometimes she forgot his sex appeal because he flew from one corner of town to the other, manning his businesses like an army general and busting her chops with whatever leftover time he found. Besides her flighty mom, Tommy was the only person she could call family. They didn’t resemble one another at all, not with his olive skin and dark hair, compliments of his Mediterranean mother. The mother he rarely spoke of.

“Fliers for the town hall meeting,” he explained after eyeing her suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you? Why do you look all flushed?”

Olivia stiffened her spine and threw her hair behind her shoulders. “I think I just had phone sex.”

Tommy’s handsomely rugged face scrunched up as if he’d taken a large bite of a lemon. “Olivia, please don’t have personal conversations at work.”

“It wasn’t a personal conversation.”

“Phone sex isn’t personal? Since when?” he mumbled under his breath. Tommy hated talking about or even thinking about his little sister having sex.

“Since I answered a work call. Some guy wanted information about rafting. I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but whatever he said—everything he said—sounded sexual.”

“That’s just your overactive hormones at work again. Did he book a reservation?”

“No.” Olivia leaned on the counter closer to Tommy. “So when have you had phone sex?”

He picked up the box, said, “None of your business,” and disappeared into his office.

Chapter Two

ack Forrester tapped his fingers on the receiver he’d just placed back in the cradle. A smile touched his lips as he imagined the woman with the sexy voice on the other end of the phone.

She sounded blond. At times breathy, at times her voice was as cool and collected as the snow he knew still clung to the mountaintops she could see in the distance. He’d done his research. The raft shop was in Lower Fork, an armpit of a town on the way to the ski slopes, or in the opposite direction, into Del Noches, Hailey, and Westmoreland, otherwise known as civilization.

Olivia was bored answering phones in the middle of nowhere. He imagined she, like most raft guides, was counting the days until the ski lift opened and she could find a whole different kind of rush.

Jack had dated a ski instructor once. He’d almost killed himself trying to keep up with her on the slopes when his competitive nature got the best of him. She was as lithe and bold and daring as the slopes she’d taken him down. Moon, Sky, or whatever the hell her name was had joined his long list of former lovers. He’d thought recently about trying to ski again. There were programs for people like him, but he thought he’d try rafting first.

Hearing Olivia speak of the season ending when the afternoon sun shone so warm on his skin he’d had to lower the blinds in his office had been strange. As per his morning routine, he’d switched from hot tea to the gallon jug of water he habitually drank from a few hours ago. He’d just recapped the jug when Erica returned from the store. For such a moody woman, she moved quietly around their shared living space. So many things about his sister surprised Jack, even after all the time they’d been together.

“Why do you look so smug?” she asked as she passed with her hands full of bags. She paused on her way to the kitchen and leaned over his shoulder. The lavender scent of her shampoo made his mind drift to summer afternoons. When she stood up, he knew she’d seen the Golden Rule Raft and Fly Shop website on his computer screen. “Rafting or fishing?” Her voice held a note of wariness.

“Rafting. Thought it would be fun.”

She let out a harsh grunt and resumed her path to the kitchen. “You’re not sticking me on some rubber raft in the middle of a raging river.”

He followed her to the counter separating the kitchen and the living room/office. “Oh, come on, Erica. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Keeping up with you is adventure enough.”

“That may have been true at one time, but now? Seriously?”

She slammed a cabinet. “Don’t start with me, Jack.”

“You’ll have to come out of your shell eventually.”

“I’m not in a shell, or if I am, I’m there happily. There’s nothing wrong with a nice, quiet life.”

“For some,” Jack said. “But for people like us, nice and quiet aren’t in the cards.”

“People like you,” she corrected. “I’m fine with nice and quiet. I prefer nice and quiet.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you ought to be thrilled with the valley. Besides some outdoor fun, which you have no interest in joining, there doesn’t seem to be much to do.”

“Then why are we going?” The hesitation in Erica’s voice told him what he’d suspected: She was worried about the change in venue. The question remained if she was worried for him or worried for her. “Can’t you do this interview over the phone or online?”

“No, I can’t. This isn’t just an interview. The man is writing a book about me.”

“How good a writer can he be if he lives in some valley where they raise cows and grow potatoes? Shouldn’t he live and work in some big city like New York or Chicago?”

“Writers are notorious recluses, at least most of the good ones are.”

“I’ve never even heard of Lyle Woodward. What do you know about him?”

“I know he came highly recommended. He’s lived in the valley most of his life. He’s young and eager to prove himself. I’m quite partial to those who have yet to taste success and are willing to work hard to achieve it.”

Erica stopped banging around the kitchen. “How young?”

Jack shrugged. “Young enough to be hungry.”

“Jack…”

He drew in a deep breath and said his age through gritted teeth. “Twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two? He’s younger than me?”

“By a few years, yes.”

“He’s a kid.”

“A kid determined to become a success. I’ll take that any day over some washed up has-been looking to make a quick buck.” Jack made his way to his desk chair. “I’ve read some of his stuff. He’s good.”

“You’re willing to move us to some Godforsaken valley in the middle of nowhere for who knows how long based on a hunch?”

Erica knew just where to stick the knife and precisely how to turn it. “I’ve amassed a rather large fortune following my instincts. I’m not about to turn my back on one of the only things left I can count on.”

“You can count on me.”

“Yes,” he said, guilt creeping into his voice. “I can always count on you.”

“I still don’t know why you’re doing this book.”

“You’ve lived with me long enough to know I’ve got an ego.”

“Everyone has an ego, but you’ve worked pretty hard at flying under the radar these last few years. Is this your way of coming out of hiding or is it revenge for those people that let you down?”

“That’s the beautiful part, my sweet sister.” Jack rubbed his hands together. “It’s a little bit of both.”

Chapter Three

With a gulp of cool morning air, Lyle Woodward sat on a boulder on the bank of the Rio Grande River and looked around for the perfect rock to skip along the slow moving surface. There were so many to choose from, too many, but he didn’t become impatient while looking. The banks were lined with potato rock, aptly named for their spud-like shape and color. It took a trained eye and a patient hand to find just the right rock for skipping.

He dug the edge of a small stone out with the toe of his boot and wiped the surface clean with his fingers. This will do, he thought as he weighed it in his hand and looked out over the river. His eyes wandered to the small hunting cabin on the far edge of the bank where he’d spent the morning cleaning out debris. It was almost ready to insulate and sheetrock.

From the distance, his future home looked ready to inhabit. The doors and windows were newly installed, the porch repaired, and smoke puffed from the chimney. He’d lit a fire earlier to ward off the morning chill. If the weather held and they could run power before the ground froze, he would have her ready to go by the end of October. He needed the weather to hold.

Living with his mom and stepdad had been a temporary solution after college that had suited him well enough he’d stayed for over a year. If his brother and his wife hadn’t planned an extended visit, Lyle doubted he would have made much of an effort to move out. He’d always been a mama’s boy; no sense denying what everyone knew.

Lyle loved his mother and wasn’t ashamed to admit that living under her roof, eating her home-cooked meals, and dressing in freshly laundered clothes he hadn’t laundered himself suited him just fine. He was getting a little tired of feeling like the third wheel whenever his stepdad was around, but aggravating Dodge was a pastime that never got old.

But it was time to move on, and since he’d started work on the place, he was excited to make plans for his future. Some would say still living on his parents’ property wasn’t exactly moving out, but Lyle didn’t care. He loved their ranch and never, not once, had he considered leaving the property his dad had bought and his mom and stepdad had loved and worked back to life.

It was home, plain and simple, and he had a new home there, a new phase to begin. It didn’t hurt that moving out coincided with a new job. He felt the tingle in his belly he recognized as part anticipation and part fear. He couldn’t wait to get started on the biography he’d been selected to write. The job was the biggest and only book he’d attempted to write outside his struggling fiction career. He knew he was up for the job. The preliminary research he’d amassed on Jack Forrester had lit a fire in him as real as the smoke snaking through the trees above his cabin.

The prospect of working with his hands on the house and working with his mind on the book made everything in his life a little brighter. He eased his arm back and skimmed the rock along the river, watching it bounce four times before slamming into the opposite bank. He’d just turned to walk home and shower when his cell phone buzzed. He answered with a smile when he saw the name on the display. “Hey, good looking. How are things on the east coast?”

“Considering I’m in the mountains and six hours from the coastline, it’s hard to answer that question,” Jill Jennings replied in the same sarcastic tone Lyle had missed since she’d moved to North Carolina. “But if you’re asking how I am, I’d say I’m good. Very good. How are you?”

“I’m good, too. Very good.”

“You sound happy,” Jill said. “What’s up?”

“I’m moving out of mom’s place.”

“Well, that’s news. Where to?”

“The old hunting cabin on the property. I’m fixing it up myself. You’d be as surprised as I am to discover I’m quite good as a handy man.”

“Are you wearing a tool belt?”

“Not yet, but I can envision needing one in the next few weeks.”

Jill chuckled. “I leave town for a few months and you go and become handy. Where were you when my apartment door kept sticking?”

“I was waiting for you to ask for help, which you were too stubborn to do.”

“So you let me suffer because you wanted me to ask?”

“As I recall, you didn’t have to ask Ty for help.”

Jill let out a breathy sigh. “No, I didn’t. Maybe that’s why he has my undying love and will be the father of my children.”

“You’re sickeningly happy.” It still amazed him that his best friend had picked up and moved across the country to be with a man she’d only been in a relationship with for a few months. He worried that one day she’d wake up and realize the magnitude of what she’d done and everyone she’d left behind—including him and her family.

“I am. And I’m sorry, because I know how annoying that can be, but I am so happy here. I love Ty’s family, I love my job, and I fall more and more in love with Ty every day. God,” she laughed, “I’m annoying myself with this gushing. How can you stand me?”

“I was about to hang up on you until you snapped out of it,” he deadpanned. He missed Jill too much to end their conversation just because she couldn’t stop waxing about her good fortune. Sometimes he forgot she was a girl. “Are you coming back to visit anytime soon?”

“Yes, I’ll be back in a few weeks to do some wedding shopping. Olivia and my mom have been bombarding me with pictures of dresses and flowers. I’m afraid if I don’t get out there and make some decisions, they’ll get tired of waiting and book the whole thing themselves.”

“Good. I miss your ugly mug.”

“I miss your ugly mug, too. I can’t believe you’re really moving out.”

“I can’t either, but it’s good. It’s time. I just need to find a place to stay until the cabin has power.”

“Did Sarah kick you out or something?”

Lyle laughed. His mother kick him out? “No, Kevin and Shiloh are coming for a long visit. My mom wants to fix up the bathroom and repaint the bedroom. The way she talks, she makes it sound like she has to fumigate after I leave.”

“Where are you going to stay?”

“I’m not sure. I thought about just getting a hotel room, but they’re not convenient and I don’t really want to eat through my book advance.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I have an idea,” she said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“At this point, I’m ready to entertain any number of ideas.”

“You could live with Olivia.”

That time, the pause was on his end as he envisioned himself listening to Olivia talk about herself twenty-four-seven. “Olivia? Are you nuts? We don’t even like each other.”

“That’s not true. You were both jealous when I spent time with one or the other. Now that I’m gone, you should get along fine.”

“What makes you think she’d even let me live with her?”

“I felt guilty about leaving her with the lease, so I paid through the end of the year. Technically, my old room in my apartment is still mine.”

“I’ll gladly accept your offer, because I wasn’t looking forward to bunking up with Miguel in the caretaker’s house, but I’m not going to be the one to tell her.”

“I’ll tell her. Well,” Jill hedged, “I’ll ask her under the pretense she has some sort of say in the matter. She’ll be fine with it. I know Olivia. She’s probably going crazy living by herself. I think she’ll be glad for the company.”

Lyle thought Olivia might feel differently, but he wasn’t in a position to argue. “Great.” He wondered if he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.