No Better Man (26 page)

Sara Richardson grew up chasing adventure in Colorado’s rugged mountains. She’s climbed to the top of a 14,000-foot peak at midnight, swam through Class IV rapids, completed her wilderness first-aid certification, and spent seven days at a time tromping through the wilderness with a thirty-pound backpack strapped to her shoulders.

Eventually Sara did the responsible thing and got an education in writing and journalism. After a brief stint in the corporate writing world, she stopped ignoring the voices in her head and started writing fiction. Now she uses her experience as a mountain adventure guide to write stories that incorporate adventure with romance. Still indulging her adventurous spirit, Sara lives and plays in Colorado with her saint of a husband and two young sons.

You can learn more at:

SaraRichardson.net

Twitter @SaraR_Books

Facebook.com/SaraRichardsonBooks

H
ere we go.
Paige’s heart launched into a tumbling routine that could’ve rivaled Gabby Douglas’ Olympic gold performance. She eased her Subaru into a parking spot outside the Walker Mountain Ranch office and cut the engine. Being summoned to the office was never a good sign. Didn’t matter if you were in high school or at a Catholic Church camp, the words,
Can I see you in my office?
infused a sense of dread into your bloodstream. Especially when it came in the form of a voice mail from your boss.

Not that Bryce Walker scared her. No, it wasn’t about fear. She hated disappointing him, that was all. She’d been a disappointment her whole life, as nearly every member of her family liked to remind her. But when she’d started working for the Walkers in high school, they’d treated her more like a person instead of a pest and now she hated to let Bryce down.

She obviously had, somehow. His voice mail had an unmistakable undertone of disappointment. She should know. She’d heard that tone her whole life.

The parking lot sat empty, as it typically did in the middle of the week. Most of their outfitting clients came in on a Thursday or Friday and left on a Monday or Tuesday. Wednesday was their day off. Not that she minded coming in. She spent most of her free time around here, anyway, helping groom the horses or mucking out the stables or chatting with Elsie and doing whatever else needed to be done. The Walker Mountain Ranch always hummed with life, with people coming and going, sharing a meal, laughing and chatting. It was the one place she fit.

Besides all of that, if she spent time at the ranch she wouldn’t risk one of her siblings stopping by her apartment to ask when she planned to stop being so selfish and come work at the café so Dad and Mom didn’t have to work so much. That happened at least once a week.

A foreign sense of dread pulsed through her as she shuffled up the porch steps. Once a one-room dungeon, Bryce and Avery had transformed the Walker Mountain Ranch lobby into a palace with three offices—one for Avery, who did most of the marketing; one for Bryce, who handled all of the facilities and trip planning; and one for Kaylee, Bryce’s cousin, Sawyer’s wife, who did all of the booking and finances. There was also a gorgeous waiting area for clients who were checking in or out, complete with a grand stone fireplace, heavy pub tables, and leather seating. Oh, and who could forget the espresso machine and freshly baked goods case that Elsie kept stocked with every temptation known to mankind? She never missed a chance to stop by and check out the day’s selections, but for once her stomach didn’t tempt her.

Usually pushing open the solid pine door made her grin, but now she plowed through with her head down, apprehension about the impending meeting knotting up her neck.

“Hey, Paige.”

She looked up.

Bryce stood behind the check-in counter, changing the light bulb in a stained glass lamp.

As usual, he was dressed in his khaki Carhartts and a short-sleeved blue button-up shirt with a monogrammed Walker Mountain Ranch logo on the pocket.

“Hi,” she replied, trying to sound chipper, but her tone had gone flat. Normally when she saw Bryce, she’d bound right up to him and punch his shoulder, give him a noogie, or maybe tease him about how short Avery made him keep his hair now. A pang of sadness drew her gaze back to the floor. He was her true big brother, even though she had two others who could claim blood relation. But they’d never looked after her the way Bryce had.

“I’m all set here.” He flicked on and off the lamp, as though making sure it worked. “Let’s talk in my office.”

In the office. Not a casual conversation in the hall…

“Okay,” she squeaked, and followed him across the lobby sitting room into his office. Right outside the door, she stopped.

Bryce’s wife, Avery, was lying on his couch, eyes closed, fanning herself with the latest issue of
Backpacker
magazine. Her three-month baby bump poked out the front of a cute, fitted red maternity shirt. Even three months pregnant, the woman had the best sense of style Paige had ever seen.

“Hey, baby, look who’s here.” Bryce skirted her and sat on the arm of the couch, resting his hand on Avery’s belly. It would’ve been the cutest scene if Paige hadn’t felt so cold. Avery had been called to the meeting, too. And yes, they were friends, but Avery was also Bryce’s wife, and kind of her boss, too, though no one at the ranch thought of her that way. She was too sweet.

“Hey, Paige,” Avery said in that groggy voice she’d grown accustomed to hearing over the last few months. “Sorry. I’m tired and hot. Again.”

Bryce slid down next to his wife, kissing her on the cheek and then resting his hand high on her thigh.

Normally, Paige would’ve made some joke about how they couldn’t seem to be in the same room without touching, but this was not a normal day, not a normal meeting, and, for the first time ever, she felt like she didn’t fit there.

Somehow, Avery seemed to sense it. She sat up straighter, smoothing her long, blond hair down over her shoulders while beaming what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile at Paige.

“Why don’t you sit?” She gestured to the chair across from the couch. “I’ll make us some lattes.” She raised her sculpted brows at Bryce in a secret message.

In response, he reached up and scratched his head.

What the hell were they doing? Baseball signals?

“I don’t want a latte.” Paige had never been good at decoding signals, at politely stepping around issues. “I want to know why I’m here. In your office.” She shot Bryce her own coded look. He knew her. He knew she preferred a more direct approach.
If you have something to say, get on with it.

He acknowledged her with a sigh. Obviously got her meaning.

“Paige…you should sit,” Avery insisted, her tone softened into a careful gentleness.

The ache in her stomach twisted into a nauseating whirlpool. No, make that cesspool, churning over and over. She’d heard that tone before. It was the tone a mother would use with a wayward child.

An itch crawled over her skin. Summoning the same courage she always relied on with her own father, she perched on the very edge of the squeaky leather cushion. What had she done wrong? Were they going to fire her? Her mind catalogued back over the last several months. There’d been the time she’d forgotten to log her trip miles, but that was weeks ago…

Bryce and Avery exchanged a pained look, their carefully guarded expressions communicating things she couldn’t understand.

Her eyes heated. The three of them had always been on the same side, ever since Avery had come to the Walker Mountain Ranch, ever since she’d joined the baseball team. Paige had been the maid of honor in their wedding, for crying out loud.

Bryce’s sharp inhale cut off her thoughts. With a glance and a nod, he seemed to offer the floor to Avery.

“Paige, honey…we’ve, um, well …” She folded her hands in her lap. “We’ve gotten some complaints about you. On your guide evaluations.”

“Complaints.” The fear that swirled in her stomach quieted. That was it? Complaints? Shoot, people might complain about her after the trip, but she never heard any complaints when they stood on top of a mountain or made it through a Class IV rapid. Sure, her methods might be unconventional but she always delivered. She shot Avery her own smile. “Maybe this is a good time to talk about the customers you keep assigning me. Seriously? Why does Shooter always get to take the fun groups while I’m stuck with people like the Funklemans?”

Neither one of them smiled back. Bryce glared right into her eyes. “Thing is, customers say you’re too harsh. You don’t listen.” His raised his head so he was looking down on her. “Then there was that whole fiasco with the Funklemans.”

Heat pierced her, remnants of her mother’s Irish temper flaring. “Fiasco?
Fiasco?”
She shot to her feet. “I got them up that mountain and back down before the lightning hit. I’d hardly call that a fiasco!” She had a feeling Hal would rather follow her up that mountain than sit there by himself. And she was right. He thought he was bear bait. Little did he know, black bears almost always spooked when they even heard a human anywhere in the vicinity…

Bryce swiped at his face, a frustrated gesture she’d seen him make a number of times, but it had never been directed at her.

She sank back to the couch. He wasn’t messing around, giving her a flippant reprimand. He was mad.

“Sure, you got them up the mountain. But Mr. Funkleman had plenty to say about
how
you got him up there,” he said.

“I did my job. I’m good at my job.” She worked harder than anyone to prove herself…

“You are, Paige.” Avery leaned over and patted her knee. “You’re great. We know that. We appreciate your skills.” She nodded in Bryce’s direction as if encouraging him to agree, to reinforce her.

He didn’t. “We need people to like you, too. We need ’em to tell their friends about their great experience. They’re getting hung up on your personality.”

The comment stung. He’d never had a problem with her personality before. He’d always accepted her, despite her personality. But he of all people had to know why she took her job so seriously, why she was so careful. He’d been a guide once, too.

“I do what I have to do to keep people safe.” Because she could never live with herself if something happened to someone out there. That was why she never left without being overly prepared. She carried more weight in emergency supplies than she did in personal items. She kept an eye on the weather. She forced people like Hal to do what she said, even if it meant she had to yell at them.

Bryce and Avery looked at each other, that same coded language firing back and forth between them.

“The thing is…” Avery paused. “We’re still trying to establish our brand. Poor customer service won’t help.”

She stared at her hands. They were weathered for someone her age, chipped nails, cracked, dry skin.

“We can’t grow with bad word of mouth.” Bryce’s gaze drilled into hers until she felt herself start to shrink.

Oh, god. They were going to fire her. What about the program she’d been begging Bryce to start? The equine therapy program? Ever since she’d watched MS slowly kill Gramma Lou, she’d wanted to help people with physical challenges experience the peace and solitude of mountains. She’d been training the horses for months. Bryce kept telling her they’d talk about it as soon as they were more established…

In a swift blink, she saw her dream start to disintegrate. If Bryce fired her, she’d never find another job around here. Everyone would know. She’d never have the chance to start the program.

“You can’t let me go. Please,” she begged. “I’ll do anything. More customer service training. I’ll change. I know I can—”

“Oh, sweetie.” Avery laughed softly. “We’re not letting you go. We just wanted to have a chat about it.”

She snapped up her head and gaped at her friend. They weren’t firing her? Her hands clasped together in her lap. “O…K…”

“We’ve got an important group coming in.” Bryce took over again. “This’ll be highly visible, and I need everything to be perfect. Including my guides.”

“Of course. No problem.” This was the perfect opportunity for her to prove herself, to show them she could handle any client.

Avery and Bryce looked at each other. “Um…” Avery’s nose twitched. “The thing is…you kind of already know this friend.”

“Really?” That was a good thing, right? It’d make it easier. But if that was the case, then why did Avery look so worried?

“Yeah,” Bryce said. “You remember my buddy, Ben? Ben Noble?”

Blood surged to her face, then drained too fast, a hot flash that ended in a wintry cold. Ben fuc—bleeping—Noble.
He
was the big client?
He
was the customer she had to take on a rafting trip?

“It’ll be huge publicity for us,” Avery gushed. “He’s bringing his whole campaign up here. They’re donating the acreage they own west of town to a new land trust.”

Shit
. Okay, yes, she was trying to cut back on the swearing, but shit.
Shit, shit, shit on a stick
.

“He wants to do a rafting trip,” Bryce said. “All the way down the Fork. His land is just past Enderson Falls, so you can pull over and deliver him right to the signing ceremony.”

Bryce went on about how important it was that this all went off without a hitch, but all Paige could see, all she could hear, was the scene on the night she’d last seen Ben Noble.

They’d been dancing at a fund-raiser gala that Avery had thrown for Bryce nearly two years ago, and the man knew his way around a dance floor. Wearing that million-dollar smile, he’d twirled her and dipped her and charmed her all night with that damn southern drawl of his. Then he’d kissed her, brushing his lips against hers until her knees gave and she heard herself agree to go up to his room.

It was a damn good thing that busty blonde had stopped him to throw her drink in his face before she’d made the biggest mistake of her life. It seemed Ben Noble enjoyed the dance but not the morning after, and she didn’t do one-night stands. Especially with a man who’d turned it into an art form. She’d never put herself in that situation again. Not after what Jory had done to her when she was nineteen, convincing her to sleep with him then tossing her aside like a ruined pair of those Nike basketball shoes he always wore.

She’d only been humiliated that way one other time in her entire life, and she’d sworn then that it would never happen again.

“Paige?” Avery waved a hand in her face. “Are you okay with this?” she asked, wearing that furrowed frown, girl code for
I know things didn’t end well between you
two
… Thank God she refrained from saying those words. Bryce had no clue that she’d been anywhere near Ben Noble. He’d been too busy kissing Avery that night.

“Because if you’re not—”

“Of course I’m okay with it,” she said, mentally hiking up her big girl panties and snapping the elastic. This was her chance. If she did this, if she made Ben’s trip a success, Bryce couldn’t put her off about the therapy program. Not anymore. “It’ll be great.” She chiseled out a smile. “Ben is
so
…great.”