HEART
MOUNTAIN
LODGE
It was time to say good-bye.
“Miss Ellie...” Charley opened her arms with gratitude for all she’d done for her the past six weeks.
Ellie accepted her hug.
Then she turned solemn. “I have honored you with a Cheyenne name. Onimontago,” Ellie said with watery eyes. “It means, ‘beautiful voice.’”
Charley brought her hand to her heart. “Ellie, I’m so touched! I don’t know what to say.” Again, she embraced the woman who’d been the closest thing she’d had to a mother figure since losing her real mom.
“I’m going to miss you so much! Thank you for trusting me to help you here at the ranch,” Charley said over the top of Ellie’s head.
The older woman retained her stoic character even as she held Charley firmly.
“Now you are a part of this place.” Her eyes bored into Charley’s.
Charley bent over to hug Viho. “I’m gonna miss you, too, ya big brute.” She fluffed his yellow coat one last time, then wiped the slobber off her pant leg.
Hunter offered to drive Charley to the airport. But she didn’t think she could bear being alone with him in the Range Rover again. There were too many memories.
“Thanks, but I think we both know that wouldn’t be a good idea. I’ll just take the van with everyone else,” she said.
Still, he insisted on riding along, nabbing the spot next to her.
Charley passed the time looking out her window.
“Hoping to see another moose?” Hunter teased. She knew he was only trying to lighten the heavy mood that hung over them.
“It’s my last chance,” murmured Charley without turning around.
It was his last chance, too, but Hunter already felt as though he’d been dismissed from her life. This was the day he’d been dreading for weeks. In an hour she’d be gone.
When they arrived at the airport, he swept her aside.
“When’s the wedding?” Charley stunned him by asking. Why did she have to bring that up now?
“Christmas.”
She nodded curtly.
Then her eyes flew to his, lingering.
“Be happy,” she said with sincerity.
He looked down at the Noconas he’d bought for her, now well broken in, and then faced her again.
“You take care of those boots, now,” he said softly.
“I will. I’ll think of you every time I wear them.”
He took her in his arms one last time, holding her tight, twisting a handful of her long blonde hair around his fist, then letting it go so he could span her back with his palm. He felt her curves against his chest. Then he pulled back and bent his head, hoping she wouldn’t resist a chaste—and very public—kiss good-bye. But just before their lips met, someone started hollering for him.
“Hunter! Hunter, can you be a dear and help me with my bags?” a roly-poly, silver-haired crone headed back to Lafayette, Louisiana toddled toward him, her pink face dewy with perspiration.
Hunter looked around desperately for Wayne, but he already had his hands full.
There was little time to waste before the departing flight. He sighed and gave Charley a squeeze before releasing her.
“Bye, Hunter,” she whispered. Then she hiked her own bags up onto her capable shoulders and strode off on those endless legs, into the building and out of his life. All that was left of her was a faint trace of vanilla.
Summer Saturdays were busy at Yellowstone Regional. The Park was a major tourist attraction and August was peak season. The terminal looked very different from when Charley had arrived six weeks earlier on a Wednesday. Today, it was bustling.
Hunter, burdened with heavy bags, craned his neck to watch Charley as long as he could before she disappeared into the crowd.
And then his heart stopped.
A stylish woman was wheeling her brown and gold bag toward him. Her head was bowed intently over the phone in her free hand, fingers flying.
She was on a collision course with Charley.
The short brunette slammed hard into the tall blonde.
From her body language, Charley appeared to apologize, even though she clearly hadn’t been at fault.
“Watch where you’re going!” Hunter read Jade’s lips beneath her scowl.
Charley shrugged it off and was gone.
Comparing the women was unavoidable. The one leaving him stood a full five foot nine. She wore no make up on her freckle-sprinkled face and she sported curve-hugging, faded Levi’s tucked into Noconas. A cascade of strawberry blonde fell in waves to the middle of her back.
In stark contrast, the fiery vixen now coming his way rocked swingy, chin-length hair and shiny red lips. Her huge black sunglasses and sky-high heels would’ve looked right at home in New York or Miami. And weighing down the third finger of her left hand was a stone so gaudy it seemed fake, but Hunter Brown knew that it was very, very real.
Excerpt, Heart Mountain Lodge
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