It was then that the letter came. Lucy was Ally’s mother’s second cousin by marriage, and though they didn’t get to see each other often, they corresponded regularly. Lucy’s weekly letters from Wyoming, where she ran a mountain resort, were always the exciting highlight of Ally’s day. Just a month ago, there’d been a terrible fire, and Lucy had been crushed at the loss of over one hundred acres of lush landscape. They’d written each other frequently since then, with Ally doing her best to cheer up Lucy.
Unlike the others though, this letter turned Ally’s life completely around. Or upside down, depending on how one looked at it.
Dearest Ally,
You won’t believe this, but I’ve broken my hip and ankle, and landed myself in the hospital for a while. Blast those newfangled mountain bikes!
Ally blinked. The sixty-something Lucy on a mountain bike?
We’re desperately racing to clean up from the fire before our summer season can start. We need that acreage cleared for our mountain bikers and hikers, or I’ll lose business.
So I need a favor, Ally, a big one. Come stay at the resort while I’m in the hospital recovering from this stupid mishap. I have a great staff, but there’s nothing like family to watch out for your interests. You’ve got good business experience, and a degree. You’ll make a great general manager.
General manager? Ally shuddered, her head filled with visions of huge snowdrifts. Endless dark, haunting forests.
Big bugs.
I’ve arranged for you to be on the payroll, so take a leave of absence from that boring, stagnant, indoor job and you’ll never regret it. Give me a month of your time, that’s all. Do it for me. Do it because I’m desperate and need you.
Do it for yourself.
Love, Lucy
From the envelope fell a plane ticket dated two days from now. Ally sat there staring down at it, her eyes glued to the date.
She couldn’t have just been offered a miracle, could she? She couldn’t really be sitting here holding a one way ticket out of the disaster her life had become. To say she was afraid was the understatement of the century. She had less than a hundred dollars left in her checking account, no car and no job.
But…Wyoming?
The normally quiet and unassuming Ally would never consider such a thing, but that woman was gone, replaced by a woman determined to stop helping everyone else and help herself for a change. And maybe even enjoy herself while she was at it.
She supposed she could say Lucy needed her, that her family did as well. That by going she’d be fulfilling just another family obligation. But those thoughts irritated her. Her entire life had been dictated by the needs of others. No more.
So she’d hit rock bottom. It meant she had nowhere to go but up, right? And she wanted more than just survival, she wanted to succeed at something. Anything. For once she wanted to be great at her life. She was going to go Wyoming. Look out big bugs, she thought. Here I come.
2
TWO DAYS LATER, Ally stepped off the plane and stared at the wide, open sky and outlying sharp, majestic mountains, completely awestruck. It all seemed so…big.
As she walked across the tarmac, the wind hit her, a stinging, sharp draft that nearly knocked her sideways. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy,” she whispered, glancing at the threatening, thunderous clouds gathering on the horizon.
No problem. This was going to be fun. She had to repeat that to herself when a pesky little voice inside her head kept saying, I want my quiet, cozy life back.
Her old life was gone for now. This is what she had. With a lifted chin and a swagger that was mostly bravado, she continued away from the plane toward the small terminal. She’d just retrieve her luggage, find a cab and go meet Lucy at the hospital, where they could spend a little time catching up. Then she’d head over to the resort and meet the staff Lucy had described as a young, capable, tight unit.
She was ready! She was going to dig in and help with the fire clean-up. She was going to try everything and anything, and succeed no matter what. No more taking care of everyone. No more putting everyone else first.
It was Ally Wheeler’s turn.
She staggered a bit, pummeled by the increasing wind. The other passengers, who’d seemed so cityish on the plane, suddenly all had sweaters or jackets out. Several of the men had placed cowboy hats on their heads, and she noted for the first time, they all wore boots.
She felt like a fish out of water, especially when her cell phone rang.
“Ally!”
Pesky younger sister number one. “You’re already gone,” wailed Dani. “I didn’t get to talk to you before you left. What if I need you?”
Only calmness worked on Dani, and Ally strove for some now as she was pelted by the wind, jostled by people walking past her, and all around overwhelmed by her new surroundings. “I told you I was going.” It was the most soothing voice she could muster. “And if you need me, Dani, you can do as you’re doing right now and call.”
“But what if I need money?”
For the first time, Ally couldn’t find any patience for her baby sister. “You might try putting in a few hours of work.” She was nearly at the terminal now and her mind was far from home. Her heart was racing as she walked toward this new adventure of hers. “I’ve got to go, okay? I’ll call you later.”
“But-”
Ally disconnected, and forced herself to let go of the guilt. She was no longer saving the world, she was living for herself for a change. It was exciting. Scary. Her hair whipped at her face. Her blouse, perfectly suitable for May in San Francisco, plastered itself to her body, providing no barrier against the chill, but she kept moving.
And then found her gaze locked with a stranger’s.
His wide shoulders were propping up the wall of the terminal, one long leg bent, foot braced on the brick behind him. He wore reflective sunglasses and a crooked, follow-this smile.
He tugged off the glasses and suddenly his pose didn’t seem lazy but…coiled. He was looking right at her, through her, with dark, dark, piercing eyes.
Feeling silly, and too skittish for someone who was supposed to be tough instead of wussy, Ally forced herself to remain calm. She knew she was cold, knew too, that it was painfully obvious through the blouse she wore, the one that at this very moment was plastered to her like a second skin, outlining her every curve for his inspection.
And inspect he did, slowly, thoroughly, leaving her blushing from toes to roots. Out of necessity she continued to move toward him, her one and only goal at this point to get warm. Closer now, she could see his eyes were blue; the clear, startling dark blue of the ocean deep. His hair was sun-kissed blond, on the wrong side of long, hitting past his collar at the back of his neck. No razor had touched his skin in at least two days, and the stubble only emphasized his firm, tough mouth. His faded jeans, leather bomber jacket and attitude assured her he was the poster boy for bad.
“Excuse me,” he said, facing her fully. He was tall, and built like a man who used his body often. A gold hoop shone at his ear. His face was rugged, tanned and comfortably lived in, holding the sweet, saintly expression of an angel-with the devastating, irresistible smile of the devil. But it was his low, husky voice that grabbed her, a voice that was so innately…sexy she felt all her X chromosomes jerk to attention.
“Ms. Wheeler, right?” He lifted one dark blond brow and shifted that tall, leanly muscled frame, drawing her attention to the way his Levi’s caressed his lower body, but she couldn’t concentrate on that at the moment.
Because he knew her name.