She barely knew the man, but a sense of peace and comfortability surrounded her—along with intrigue. “I figured you’d be married.”
“Nope. Have terrible luck with women.” His broad hand descended on the dog’s head. “Except for my girl, here.”
“I know what you mean,” Heather admitted, instantly shying away from the possibility. She had enough problems right now, although hopefully moving to the small Idaho town would take care of most of them. “I do want to thank you for carrying me down the mountain.”
“Any time.” He pet the dog, whose tail wagged across the sparkling clean tiled floor. “Mind if I ask what you were doing hiking that mountain in the beginning of December?”
“I was scattering my grandmother’s ashes,” she murmured. “It took forever to get the permits.”
Understanding smoothed out his features. “I’m sorry about that.”
So was she. Heather pushed the plate of cookies toward him. “Hungry?”
“Definitely.” He took a cookie and ate happily. “She makes the best ones, right?”
Heather could only nod. Pleasure cut across his angled face, and man, he was something to look at and probably draw later. “Do you carry a lot of people down mountains?”
“Enough,” he said agreeably. “The Silverville Search and Rescue team gets a good workout pretty often, and we coordinate with the state and federal officials when necessary. We’re all volunteers, but most of us grew up around here and know the terrain.”
Volunteers? She looked at the dog. “What do you do when you’re not volunteering and putting yourself in danger?”
He snagged another cookie. “I’m a Forestry Technician with the U.S. Forest Service.”
That made sense. He seemed like an outdoorsy type of guy, and managing the forests was a good job. A solid job in a place like Idaho. “It’s nice you’re stationed at home,” she said.
“Well, I live here but have to travel for work quite a bit,” he admitted. “Although with my schedule, I do get some great downtime, and usually being with family is a good thing.” He set his hands in his lap, even though his gaze dropped to the cookies.
“Please, have another one,” she said. “I already ate two, and that’s my sugar limit for the day.” Or close to it, anyway.
He shrugged and took another cookie.
“Who’s Anna?” She couldn’t help but ask.
“My cousin,” Quint said, wiping icing off his lip with his thumb. “We were playing and having fun. Her older sister and I were swinging her toward the river, I had her arms, and Donna had her feet, and we tossed, and she hit a board. Two decades ago.” He shook his head. “But when Nonna wants something, she’s more than happy to use guilt, you know? I mean, Donna and I were about eight years old, and Anna asked us to throw her in. We were goofing off, and Anna rarely brings it up.”
The fondness with which he spoke caught Heather in the chest. What would it be like to have a big family with so much history? So much support and love? “You’re very lucky,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said, his gaze warming on her. “Don’t worry. Now that you’re in Silverville, you’re family. Whether you want to be or not.” His chuckle was low and throaty to the point of being sexy.
Her phone buzzed from her pack, which sat on the granite counter, and she stiffened.
He tilted his head. “Want me to get that?”
“No. That’s okay. I’ll call them back,” she said, her heart rate kicking up.
“You sure?” His humor had gone, leaving a curious and rather intense look in his eyes.
She waved the stress away. “Of course.” She could handle it. “It’s probably just my editor, and I’ll call her back later.” Hopefully it was Julie.
“All right.” He scratched Zena behind the ears, his gaze no less intense.
Heels clip-clopped closer in the hallway outside, and a woman stepped inside. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and bright red nails. “Quint,” she said, her very red lips tipping in a smile. “Hello.”
Quint frowned. “What are you doing here?”
So much for the good natured forestry guy. Heather studied the woman. Her skirt was tight and short, her blouse Chanel, and her earrings real diamonds. Her body was small and looked perfect in the tight skirt, and Heather made sure the blankets were covering her much larger legs…except for the cast.
“Hi. I’m Jolene.” The woman ignored Quint and walked closer, her gaze raking Heather. “I’m from theTimber Gazette, and I’d like to interview you for a feature about your ordeal. We have a local imprint for the paper here in Silverville. What do you say?”
