He forced his lips to lift away from gritted teeth. “A hungry bear is a grumpy bear.”
“Umm, yes. I’ll eat it on the grounds.”
“Also, if you’d like breakfast before you leave, our head chef is world renowned for her fine dining cuisine. Her specialty is a lightly smoked trout on toast, served with house-made wild berry jam.”
Zoey shuddered and made her escape.
The instant she stepped through the doors of the hotel, the fresh, crisp mountain air filled her lungs, and the sweet, earthy scent of evergreens washed away the lingering scent of breakfast fish.
The resort was everything rustic lodge glamour, fitting in perfectly with their surroundings. Even in July, the weather was much cooler here than it would be back home in Chicago. Within the grounds alone, there were so many activities, Zoey could have spent the whole summer there and not done them all. As she wandered, smiling shyly at the far more robust guests taking advantage of the on-site amenities, Zoey munched on her granola bar.
Taking pictures on her phone from every angle imaginable, Zoey sighed in pleasure. Perfect. This was absolutely perfect.
Despite Diego’s lack of personality, his directions were excellent. The resort had paid special attention to providing signs for the trails spider-webbing away from the main grounds. The head of this jogging trail was marked with an information station, complete with a map of the trails and a list of local wildlife that could be found. Even the large government-produced sign was nicer than she’d ever seen, tucked beneath the shade of a log structure and protected from the elements by a thick casing of clear plexiglass.
“Warning. Numerous wildlife encounters have been known to occur on this trail,” Zoey read aloud. “Know your bears.”
A thrill of excitement flushed through her system.
“Never fear, I have come prepared. Bear bells, check. Bear spray, check. No small children wandering from the trail, check. Make sure to hike with a friend.”
Hmmm. If the sign had ever seen Lana in a wilderness type situation, it would have known better than to suggest that.
“Well, I’ll just have to be extra person-y.”
Ready for her first adventure but just hungover enough to not want to climb a mountain, Zoey picked a wide, sweeping trail with minimal elevation changes. The hike would take her at least an hour, staying within the resort’s property. Later, when she was feeling better, Zoey had every intention of exploring every inch of these mountains she could. Taking a picture of the map with her phone, Zoey and her water took off.
The trail couldn’t have been tidier unless someone had personally vacuumed the pine needles off the ground. The mountains rose high above the surrounding trees. With every step, her heart swelled wider, her soul flying free. Never had she been happier.
At the unmarked junction, Zoey had the choice to go right or left. On a whim, she went right, when thus far, all her turns had been left.
Zoey knew where she was going. She did. Even when the trail twisted and turned more than the map said it should. Even when it stopped being so well maintained and narrowed on both sides. Even when it became clear that she’d made a wrong turn somewhere and needed to reevaluate her location.
She was a strong, independent woman perfectly capable of taking care of herself in the Alaskan wilderness.
Which was why, when she turned the corner and ended up next to a massive steel shipping container, face-to-welding mask with a man brandishing a chainsaw above them, Zoey knew exactly what to do. She ran away. And when he yelled something, grabbing her arm and pulling her around, Zoey was more than prepared for the situation.
Screaming bloody murder, Zoey kicked him straight between the legs.
Chapter 4
Now, for the record, Graham completely agreed with Zoey’s reaction. If he’d walked out of a forest and into a chainsaw, he’d be upset too.
The problem was, when she turned to run away, she’d been running toward the north side of his property, making a beeline for a thirty-foot ravine. The chivalrous part of Graham’s nature would never willingly let someone fling themselves to their death on his property, especially when it was all based on a simple misunderstanding.
Unfortunately, it was hard to express agreement while dry retching into a welding mask, injured beyond all hope of recovery. As a person with hopes and dreams and the desire to someday father children, Graham knew better than to remain keeled over with a chainsaw beneath him, even one not running.
All in all, it was a dangerous time to be a man.
He shoved the mask off his face, tossing it aside in an attempt for her to realize he was actually a normal, nonmurderous human being. If the situation had been different, Graham might have tried to console her or at least convince her she didn’t need to keep screaming. But alas, curling up in the fetal position was the best he could do.
She screamed all the way to his four-wheeler. She screamed the entire time she tried to start the four-wheeler and failed. She took a breather for a moment as she kicked it a few times and then continued to scream as she ran to the house to—he assumed—barricade herself in and call the police. Let the police come. It was possible Graham needed immediate medical attention.
If he wasn’t so busy cursing into the dirt beneath his face, Graham might have screamed some too.
Graham stayed there for a while, letting the white-hot agony roll through him until it dulled to merely a rusty-knife-stabbing-him-in-the-groin type of pain. Then—like any intelligent man would do in the same situation—Graham crawled into his workshop and locked the door.
Until further notice, this was exactly where he planned on staying.
* * *
Zoey was a reasonable woman. With the arrival of the Moose Springs police department’s finest and the proper displaying of a badge number, Zoey allowed herself to be talked into calming down. The single officer had found Zoey crouched outside the now-closed shipping container, a tire iron she’d procured from the chainsaw murderer’s truck held at the ready.
If he’d come at her again, Zoey planned on bludgeoning him to smithereens.
After the police convinced Zoey to put down her weapon and reassured the chainsaw murderer it was in fact safe to come outside again, Zoey had been horrified to find she’d been almost chainsawed by the nice, handsome bartender who’d so sweetly driven her home the night before, leaving aspirin on the table next to her. Upon further inspection, there was a lot of suitably chopped and chainsawed wood scattered around the property.
It was possible the most terrifying moment of Zoey’s life had been an unfortunate misinterpretation of the events at hand.
There was a certain amount of shame in realizing she had attacked a perfectly innocent man. Especially when the innocent man was one Graham Barnett, who had gone to lengths beyond necessary to help her. Yes, it had been scary to turn the corner and come face-to-face with a chainsaw murderer. But now that she knew it was Graham whom she had attacked, Graham who was possibly peeing blood, it only increased the shame.