Love Reclaimed: (Clean Small-Town Romance) (Kings Grove Book 4) Page 18

I slipped away then, back to the house to change. The sun was just beginning to slip through the tops of the tall trees, and with every minute I got closer to leaving, the more resolute I felt that it was what I needed to do. I just needed to go get the dog I’d chosen—I’d decided to call her Sequoia—and then I’d be on my way.

  I crossed the space between the houses, trying not to look at the fire pit or allow myself any nostalgia about the times I’d sat there with Cam, oblivious to the way things would turn out between us. Just as I pushed open the door to his house, the terrifying yowl of the mountain lion came screeching through the trees, chilling my blood and sending the hair on my neck standing on end. I’d just pushed the door open, and the eerie scream had distracted me long enough to let the dogs out without meaning to.

  “Oh crap!” I came back to my senses, but it was too late. Though I pulled the door quickly shut again, three puppies and Matilda had all squirmed out and were now running in opposite directions, away from me. Matilda was following one pup out to the driveway, and one remained on the deck. I scooped him up and deposited him into the closed pen where he whined his disapproval at me and jumped up against the fence. The third pup was tearing across the lot behind the big house, heading for the ravine that separated the village from the wild hillside that climbed into the forest behind us. The hillside where the big cat seemed to have taken up residence despite months of efforts to trap it.

  The rangers believed the mountain lion must have been trapped before, and was too smart to fall for the same trick twice, a thought that was not a consolation as I ran after the puppy that I was ninety-nine percent sure was my Sequoia, based on the little black butt and brown markings on her backside as she tore away from me.

  I’d changed out of my wedding clothes, but I was dressed to drive to Austin, not for a hike. My sandals slowed me as I picked my way through the bushes along the ravine and down the pine needle covered slope littered with branches and pine cones. The dog was already crossing the little creek at the bottom, and I heard a loud wet “plonk” as she slipped in and out of the water, scrambling up the other side.

  “Sequoia,” I called, my voice filled with a panic that was rising as she began to climb up the hill on the other side. “Come back, girl. Please!” I found a rock to step on and crossed the little creek, looking up as I began to climb the slope. Sequoia had managed to get far enough ahead of me that I couldn’t see her now, she must’ve wandered behind bushes or rocks up the hillside. Fear bubbled in my chest as I went after her, the eerie scream we’d just heard still ringing through my head.

  This wasn’t safe. I knew it, but I couldn’t let the puppy just wander away.

  Ten minutes of slipping and scrabbling through the dirt and littered branches later, I found her. She stood frozen near a small rock formation, staring upwards with wide eyes at a huge mountain lion crouched on top of a rock, poised to spring.

  I sucked in a sharp breath, fear hammering in my blood. As my feet slid on the needle covered ground, I sent a pine cone flying down the slope with a crash, and the huge cat snapped it’s head around to train the big yellow predatory eyes on me.

  What had I been taught about mountain lions? What had Cam told me? My mind was frozen with terror, but I forced myself to think. Big. I was supposed to be big. And noisy. That part was easy.

  I opened my mouth and let out a scream that was a sound like nothing I’d ever made before. It might have been mixed with several curse words, but if the key was to be loud, I’d nailed it. And in my terror, I didn’t stop with one little yell, I kept up a steady stream of vocalized fright at the top of my lungs and raised my arms up over my head. I could be loud, but big was a lot harder for me to manage.

  The cat crouched lower, considering me, the yellow eyes steady on me as it undoubtedly considered how best to attack.

  My screams of fear turned to sounds of horror, though, when another animal came tearing up the hill to my left, circling behind the lion and barking like her life depended on it—or maybe the life of one of her pups.

  Matilda, snarling and fierce, stopped just feet from the mountain lion, pulling it’s attention from me and the puppy.

  The big cat snarled and sprang.

  Chapter 19

  CAMERON

  I watched my sister get married and felt like I was standing outside myself, like a spectator instead of a participant. From my mental distance, I could see more clearly, could consider more objectively. My sister was beautiful, and so happy as I delivered her to Connor at the end of the aisle. I had an overwhelming sense of rightness as I clapped him on the back and smiled at him. This was meant to be. I was certain of it.

  And I was stunned, not for the first time, when I caught sight of Harper. She wore a simple pink sheath dress, high-heeled sandals, and her hair pulled up off her neck in a simple twist on the back of her head. She was gorgeous, and as she stood at the back of the grove with her clipboard, quietly orchestrating every last detail of the event, it occurred to me how talented she was. She’d created all of this from nothing more than a thought, an idea. She’d made it real and built the perfect place for my sister’s wedding by simply wiling it all into happening.

  I knew she was brilliant, and obviously she was good at her job, but I thought there was more to it.

  I watched her throughout the ceremony—I couldn’t have helped it if I’d wanted to. She shone like honesty and truth as she stood at the back of the crowd, and I wished I could be as authentic and true as she was every minute of her life. There was nothing hidden about Harper—she’d never hidden her feelings from me, and all she’d asked of me was to do the same, to be honest. With her, with myself.

  But I couldn’t. Being honest would mean letting go of the guilt and regret I’d gathered and held close all these years. It would mean pushing those things away and stepping forward into Harper’s light, stripping myself of whatever armor I’d managed to cobble together and being vulnerable to a world that I felt had already hurt me so many times. How could a person do that? How could someone willingly stand emotionally naked, knowing they might end up hurt more deeply than ever before?

  That’s what Harper did. I knew it was. That was the only reason she shone so brightly—because she presented herself to the world, to everyone, exactly as she was. She’d been hurt. But she still looked me right in the eye and told me how she felt, what she wanted, what she hoped for. And I’d failed to do the same.

  Was I that much of a coward?

  As I watched her, something in my heart shifted. Shame at being afraid began to solidify and morph into resolve to be brave instead. I knew what I wanted. I’d known from the moment I’d first seen her. I wanted her. I wanted to be close to that honesty, that bravery. But I wanted to be worthy of it too, and that’s what had taken longer.

  When my duties at the reception were done, I’d find her. I’d talk to her. I’d tell her not to go—beg her if I had to.

  And if she turned me down?

  It would hurt.

  But wasn’t the chance at standing in Harper’s light, even for a few minutes, worth the fear of being hurt again?

  As Maddie and Connor kissed, solidifying their future, I took a breath to steel myself, resolved to begin my own future tonight too.

  The reception was perfect, and again I marveled at Harper’s ability to anticipate what people would want, how things should be. After Maddie and Connor arrived, I began to look for her. I couldn’t wait any longer. I imagined talking to her under these huge sturdy trees, beneath the darkening sky as music filtered down from the big open deck. I imagined kissing her there, with the background noise fading away until all I knew was her.

  But I couldn’t find her anywhere.

  Tuck was off to one side, filming the dance floor, and I tapped his shoulder. “Seen Harper?”

  He lowered the camera and turned to give me a serious look. “Man, she left.”

  I frowned, shook my head as his big hand squeezed my shoulder. “Left?”

 
; “Her car was packed. She was getting on the road tonight. Thought she would have said goodbye to you. Sorry.” He was watching me, waiting for a reaction.

  I still needed to make a speech. I couldn’t leave—I’d be letting my sister down. But if I didn’t go after Harper, I might never see her again. “How long ago?”

  “Just a few minutes, actually,” he said.

  “Can you stall?” I asked. “I have to get back to make my speech.”

  Tuck shook his head. “I’m just behind the scenes here, man.”

  “Please. I’ll be back.”

  He grinned. “For Harper, yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you Tuck.” I practically flew off the deck and down to the dusty parking lot, jumping into my truck and pulling onto the road before I’d let myself have a second thought about it.

  I maneuvered the truck through the narrow aging streets of the village, seeing things differently, noticing colors I hadn’t before, feeling each jolt of the truck’s tires in the potholes more violently than before. It was like I was finally awake, finally present. And God, I hoped Harper hadn’t left yet, but I’d drive all the way to Austin if I had to. Only I couldn’t do that tonight. I hoped she hadn’t left.

  As I pulled up the driveway, relief washed through me. Her car was still there, packed to the roof. A crate stood open in the back seat, and I smiled, glad she’d at least planned to take a dog.

  But as I began to climb the steps to the big house, a puppy whined at me from the deck. I went up to find Number One sitting on his haunches, looking lost.

  “What are you doing out here?” I asked him. I peered in the front windows as I picked up the little dog, but the house was quiet and still. I figured Harper was upstairs, and went to put the little dog in the pen out back.

  I was even more confused to find another puppy inside the pen, all alone. “What the hell is going on, guys?” A pit of worry was forming in my gut. Something wasn’t right.

  As I stood still, thinking, a sound ripped through the still evening air that chased away all the warmth I’d been feeling. It was a dog, and the sound was a barking snarl that spoke of fear, of anger…Matilda. My feet were moving after the sound before I could even begin to guess at why she was out, why she was across the ravine. And then I heard another sound that sent my heart into my mouth and jolted my entire body into a flat-out sprint. Harper. Screaming in fear as the ungodly shriek of the mountain lion joined the chorus.

  Oh God. Oh God, no.

  The brush and debris on the ground fought me every step of the way, but I ripped and tore through the bushes, pounding down the hill and up the other side until I was close enough to see.

  Harper stood off to one side, a puppy in her arms and her face red and tearstained as she screamed. Her eyes were huge and round, and trained on the fight going on just feet away from her. Matilda’s jaws were fastened to the side of the huge mountain lion’s neck, and her body swayed and clung at one side of the cat. She must’ve found a way to jump on its back, and now she was holding on for dear life as the cat swatted and yowled, shaking and trying to fling her off.

  I picked up a stick and scrabbled around for a rock, hurling it as hard as I could at the mountain lion. “Go!” I yelled. “Go on, get out of here!” I turned to the terrified Harper. “You have to help,” I told her. “Throw things, scream at it.” I worked to keep the panic from my voice.

  Despite her fear, Harper did exactly as I said. She held the dog in one arm, but picked up whatever she could find with the other, and together we shouted and barraged the lion—and poor Matilda—with a steady stream of rocks and sticks and pine cones.

  The lion continued to growl and hiss and shake, and eventually, Matilda went flying off to one side, snarling and barking. She landed in a heap, but was back on her feet seconds later, forepaws spread and head down as she snarled at the mountain lion.

  We continued yelling and screaming, throwing whatever we could find, and the lion turned with lowered head, considering us for a moment before it bounded off up the hillside, clearly deciding we were more trouble than we were worth. As soon as it was gone, Harper threw herself into my arms, still holding the puppy.

  “Cam,” she cried. “I didn’t know what to do.” I wrapped my arms around her shaking body, gratitude and love flooding through me. What if I’d stayed at the reception? What if I’d gotten here ten minutes later?

  “Are you all right?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and steady. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head against my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Cam. I didn’t mean to let the dogs out.”

  I hugged her tighter to my chest and turned to look at Matilda, who’d dropped to the ground, panting. “You okay, girl?” I asked her.

  “Oh no,” Harper breathed, pulling away. “Matilda.”

  I squeezed Harper’s shoulder once more and went to my dog, kneeling at her side. She whined and got to her feet, nuzzling my face as I lowered it to her. “Are you hurt, girl?” I turned back to Harper. “Did the lion get her? Did you see?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Matilda dodged around her until she could get on her back. It was pretty impressive, actually.”

  I stared at my dog, running my hands down her sides, feeling for blood. “Did you really do that, girl?” I asked her, pride filling me. “Did you defend Harper and your puppy like that?”

  Matilda nosed at my cheek again.

  “What a brave girl you are,” I told her. “Good girl.”

  Harper came and knelt next to Matilda, who nosed at the puppy in Harper’s arms. “Thank you, Matilda,” she said. “What a good girl.”

  “Let’s get back,” I said, glancing around us. I didn’t think the lion would return, but I didn’t want to stay here as the forest grew dark around us. “Are you okay to walk?”

  Harper took a shuddering breath and nodded. “I’m okay.”

  “I’ll carry this girl,” I said, taking the puppy from her arms. “Come on, Matilda.”

  We made our way down the slope carefully, crossed the ravine and went back up to my cabin, where Harper sat heavily in one of the chairs next to the fire pit. I put the puppy into the pen, and Matilda and I took the other chair. Now that everyone was safe, my heart went into overdrive and my hands shook.

  I looked over to see Harper shaking, too.

  I rose, planning to get us each a stiff drink, but her eyes found mine. “Please don’t leave me,” she whispered, and a tear found its way down her cheek again.

  I shook my head, moving to where she sat and kneeling next to the chair. I pulled her hand between mine and held it there, looking up into the dark eyes that filled my dreams and my every waking thought. “I wasn’t the one who was leaving.” She didn’t say anything, and I considered the appropriateness of what I wanted to say in light of what we’d just been through, but time wasn’t going to still for me. I needed to move forward. I’d been standing in one place long enough. “I came back to stop you,” I said.

  Harper’s eyes grew rounder and she just stared at me. “You did?” she finally said.

  “I did,” I confirmed. I held her hand for a long moment, letting my warmth flow into her, and I watched her cheeks go back to pink as her breathing normalized. “There are a lot of things I need to say to you,” I told her. “Things I should have said a while ago.”

  Her eyes didn’t leave mine, and I wanted to tell her everything right then, wanted to take the chance and throw caution to the wind and find out what would happen. But as I leaned down to kiss her palm, I glanced at my watch and realized I’d already been away from the reception for an hour.

  “But right now,” I said, pulling her to her feet and into my chest so those big dark eyes were staring up at me, “I have to get back to my sister’s wedding so I can make my best man speech.”

  I saw the disappointment cross her face, her realization that I was putting her off again, and I struggled with what to do. I couldn’t let my sister down. But I didn’t w
ant to let Harper down again either. I’d done enough of that.

  I stepped back and took her hands again, holding them between us. “Look at your hands, they’re shaking. You can’t drive right now anyway. Come back with me, let me make my speech and then we’ll come back here and talk. I have some things I need to say.”

  One side of her mouth quirked up just the tiniest bit, but she still didn’t speak.

  “Come back to the reception,” I suggested. “I’m not leaving you alone after what just happened, and honestly, I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

  Chapter 20

  HARPER

  Cam had been right about driving. I got back into my dress as he waited downstairs trying to clean up his suit after scrambling up a dusty hill in it, and my hands shook as I tried to zip the back. My hair had fallen down in places, and I didn’t have the patience or steady fingers to fix it, so I let it all down instead, brushing it out and quickly curling a few ends. It didn’t take long, despite my shaking hands and the pounding of my heart. I tried to focus only on getting ready to go, keeping my mind from considering how close I’d been to real danger just moments ago, or the words Cam had just said, the idea that maybe something had shifted between us.

  I let him guide me to the truck once the dogs were safely back inside his house, and I sat still with some relief, my blood still hot in my veins, my head spinning.

  “I was terrified,” I realized, speaking in a whisper as Cam started the car. “I thought I really might die today.” A tear escaped the corner of my eye and I wiped it away, determined to keep my mascara in place.

  Cam turned to me and put a warm hand to the side of my face, his summer blue eyes wide and warm. “I’d never let anything happen to you,” he said, and warmth washed through me.

  We headed back to the reception, and I felt my mind clearing a bit, shock and terror subsiding enough for me to begin worrying over the wisdom of agreeing to come back, even for a few minutes. I’d already said my goodbyes, already committed to leaving. I snuck looks at Cam’s handsome face as he drove, trying to understand what had wrought a sudden change in him, if it was possible he’d really changed his mind. But his eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, and he didn’t offer any more hints about the “things” he wanted to tell me.