Garrett Bravo's Runaway Bride

She was smiling again, her good eye a little misty. “You are the best.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it. You are.”

“So how come I have so much trouble telling you no?”

“Don’t be a grump about it.” She slapped at him playfully. “I happen to love that you can’t tell me no. My parents and Charles never had a problem with no when it came to me. It was always ‘Camilla, no’ and ‘Camilla, don’t’ and ‘Camilla, behave yourself and do what I say.’ I’ve spent my whole life doing what other people think I should do, interspersed with the occasional attempt to escape their soul-crushing expectations.”

Again, he had to quell the urge to reach for her. She was the cutest thing, with her black eye and her scrappy attitude. “Well, you’re running your own life now.”

“Oh, yes, I definitely am.”

“And we have an agreement. We’re at the cabin till Wednesday and then you’ll let me drive you home.”

“Got it.” She stuck out her hand and they shook on it.

* * *

At the cabin, he had firewood to split.

She volunteered to help so he got the maul ax, his goggles and two pair of gloves and led her out to the chopping block behind the cabin. “I’ve never chopped wood,” she said cheerfully.

He put on his goggles. “And you’re not starting now. Not in flip-flops.” A slip of the maul and she could lose a toe. “You can stack the split logs, if you want to.” He pulled on his work gloves and handed her the extra pair. “But take it slow and be careful.”

“I will.”

For a couple of hours, he worked up a sweat with the ax. He tossed the split logs away from the chopping block. She gathered them up and stacked them against the back wall of the cabin. Then when lunchtime approached, she went inside to make sandwiches. He washed up at the faucet behind the cabin and joined her on the front steps where she had the food waiting.

They ate without sharing a word, but the silence was neither tense nor awkward. Just easy. Relaxed. After lunch, he went back to splitting wood.

When he came to check on her later, she was sitting in one of the camp chairs drawing pictures in her notebook.

He peeked over her shoulder at a pencil sketch of Munch snoozing at her feet. “You’re good at that.”

“I wanted to go to art school,” she said as she shaded in Munch’s markings, the beautiful spots and patches of his blue merle coat. “I always dreamed of studying at CalArts. But my father prevailed. I went to Northwestern for a business degree and took a few art classes on the side. Then, the summer I graduated from college, I knew I had to do something to make a life on my own terms.”

“But your dad wasn’t going for it?”

“No, he was not. I tried to make him understand that I didn’t want to work at WellWay, that I needed a career I’d created for myself. He just wouldn’t listen.”

“What about your mother? She wouldn’t step up and support you?”

“My mother never goes against my dad.” She shaded in Munch’s feathery tail, her pencil strokes both light and sure. “And she basically agrees with him, anyway.”

“So you went to work at WellWay, then?”

“No. I tried to get away again.”

“Again?”

“There were several times I ran before that. The time I ran after college, I packed up my car and headed for Southern California—and was rear-ended by a drunk driver on I-70 in the middle of the night.”

Garrett swore low, with feeling.

“Yeah. It was bad. I almost died.”

“That coma you mentioned last night...?”

She nodded but didn’t look up from her drawing of Munch. “I was unconscious when they pulled me from the wreck and I stayed that way for two weeks. You probably wondered about that scar on my leg? Another souvenir of that particular escape attempt.”

“But you made it through all right.”

“Thanks to the best medical team money could buy and a boatload of physical therapy, yes, I did.”

He had that yearning again to touch her. To pull her up into his arms and comfort her, though she didn’t seem the least upset.

He was, though. Just hearing about how bad she’d been hurt made something inside him twist with anger—at her father, who wouldn’t let her live her own life. And at her mother, too, for not supporting Cami’s right to be whatever she wanted to be.

“When I was well enough to go home, I moved back in with my parents.” She kept her head tipped down, her focus on the notebook in her lap. “My father insisted. And I was too weak to put up a fight. There was more physical therapy—and the other kind, too, for my supposed mental and emotional issues. And when I’d completely recovered from the accident and finished all the therapy, I moved to my own place at last—and started my brilliant career at WellWay.”

He clasped her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, because he couldn’t stop himself.

She didn’t lift her head from her focus on the sketch, but she did readjust the sketch pad on her knees enough to give his hand a pat. “It’s okay, Garrett. I’m all better now.”

Feeling only a little foolish, he let go.

She sighed. “Mostly, I like to create my own comic strips.” She flipped the sketchbook back a page to a cartoonlike sequence of sketches where a cute little bunny with a ribbon in her hair used a stick to fight off a bear with the help of a patch-eyed Aussie dog. A boy bunny in jeans and a T-shirt similar to Garrett’s ran toward the girl bunny wearing a freaked-out expression on his face.

“I’m guessing that’s me?”

She slanted him a teasing glance. “Okay. I took a little artistic license. You didn’t look that scared.”

“Maybe I didn’t look it, but that scared is exactly how I felt.”

A giggle escaped her. “Yeah. Well, it’s not like you were the only one.” She flipped the page back and continued working on the drawing of Munch. “I have a whole series on the bunny family. Unlike my real family, the bunny family works on their issues. They respect each other and try to give each other support and enough space that every bunny gets what she wants of life.”

“Wishful thinking?”

“Oh, yeah.”

He watched her draw for a while. But there was more wood to split, so he went on around back and got busy with the maul.

Later, he showed her how to lay and light a campfire. They had steaks and canned beans. When they went inside, he taught her the basics of how to use a woodstove.

She took another bath. When she came back out to the main room, she smelled of soap and toothpaste. “Anything good to read around here?”

He pulled a box full of paperbacks out from under the bed. “Help yourself.”

She chose a tattered Western and stretched out on the couch with it. When she fell asleep, he pulled the afghan over her and turned out the light.

The next day was pretty much the same, quiet and uneventful. She drew cartoons in her notebook. He split wood.

Beyond getting the wood in, he’d been planning an overnight hike and some fishing for these last couple of days on the mountain. But now that he had Cami with him, he didn’t want to leave her alone for too long.

Strangely, it was no hardship to have to stick close to the cabin for her sake. There was just something about her. He felt good around her, kind of grounded. She pulled her weight and she didn’t complain about the rustic living conditions.

They went for a walk up the road—not too far, about a mile. With only his flip-flops to wear, her feet couldn’t take a real hike. They stopped at a point that looked out over the lower hills, some bare and rocky, others blanketed in pine and fir trees.

“Kind of clears your mind, being up here.” She sent him one of those dazzling smiles and he marveled at what a good time he was having with her. He would miss her after he dropped her off in Denver.

Was he growing too attached to her?

Oh, come on. He’d known her for less than forty-eight hours. No way a guy could get overly attached in that time.

That night, he tried to offer her the bed again. But she insisted she was comfortable on the couch.

After he turned out the light, he could hear her wiggling around, fiddling with her pillow, settling in. “You sure you’re okay over there?”

“Perfect.” She lay still. The cabin seemed extra quiet suddenly. Outside, faintly, he heard the hoot of an owl. There was a soft popping sound from the stove as the embers settled. “Garrett?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me about you.”

He smiled to himself. It was nice, the sound of her voice in the dark. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, your parents. What are they like?”

So he told her about his father, Frank, who’d had two families at the same time—one with his wife, Sondra, with whom he had two sons and two daughters. And the other with Garrett’s mother, Willow. “Ma had three boys, me included, and two girls with dear old dad. And then, when Sondra died—the day after her funeral as a matter of fact—my dad married my mom.”

“Ouch—I mean, wow, that was fast.”

“No kidding. Everyone was pissed off about it, that my dad couldn’t show just a hint of sensitivity to Sondra’s memory, that Ma couldn’t wait a little longer after all those years of being my dad’s ‘other woman.’ At the time, we were all pretty much at war, me and my mother’s other kids on one side, our half siblings on the other.”

“It sounds awful.”

“Yeah. But eventually we all grew up and realized it wasn’t our fault that our parents couldn’t manage to behave responsibly and respect their marriage vows. Now we’re tight. We all like getting together, looking out for each other, knowing we can count on each other, all that family stuff. My half siblings are even nice to my mother, which I find really impressive. Not only is she the woman my dad cheated on Sondra with, she’s not a friendly person. She’s distant, hard to get to know.”

Cami made a low, thoughtful sort of sound. “Are your mom and dad still together?”

“They were until he died six years ago. Now, when she’s not traveling, which she does a lot, she lives alone in the mansion he built for Sondra, just her and the housekeeper.”

“That sounds kind of sad.”

“You’d have to meet her. She’s not someone people feel sorry for. Like I said, she comes off kind of cold and superior. And then there’s the whole matchmaking thing I mentioned the other night. She’s driven us kind of crazy with that crap lately.”

“Because she loves you and wants you to be happy.”

He grunted. “Right. I’ll keep telling myself that.”

“And I did the math. Your dad had nine kids total?”

“That’s right.” Garrett laced his hands behind his head and stared up at the shadowed rafters overhead. “You sound impressed.”

“I kind of am. And jealous, too. I always wanted at least a sister. Preferably two. And I would have loved to have a brother. I truly do believe that if my parents had only had more kids, they wouldn’t have been constantly on my case to do things their way. More kids keep the parents busy, you know? The parents have to chill a little and accept that they don’t have absolute control.”

“But you’ve finally broken free, right? You’re going to do things your way now.”

“Oh, yes, I am.” She said it gleefully. “I’m finally going to find work that makes me happy. And I’m fortunate that I won’t have to take just any job to get by. My trust fund matured three years ago, when I was twenty-five. I have my own investments and a good chunk of change in savings, too. My life is my own from now on.”

“You really think your dad might have tried to cut you off just to get you to do what he wants?”

A silence from her side of the room. From the rug by the sofa, the tags on Munch’s collar jingled as he gave himself a scratch. The sound was followed by a soft doggy sigh.

When Cami finally spoke, she didn’t really answer his question. “Well, it doesn’t matter if he would or he wouldn’t. He can’t. My money is my own. I’ll be able to support myself while I figure out what I want to do with my life from now on.” She sounded both wistful and determined.

He wanted to get up and go to her, pull her into his arms and promise her that from now on her life was going to be downright amazing. He wanted to...

He cut the thought off before he got to the end of it.

He liked her. A lot. But she was going home to Denver and he was going back to Justice Creek. This, right now, in the cabin, just the two of them? It was only one of those things that happened sometimes. She’d needed some help and he was willing to give it.

They got along great and he enjoyed her company.

But that was all there was to it. Day after tomorrow, he would drive her down the mountain and that would be the end of it.

* * *

Tuesday pretty much flew by.

And that night in the dark, they talked some more.

She said she liked it on the mountain so much, she just might find a getaway cabin of her own. “Eventually. You know, after I figure out where I want to live and what to do with my life.”

Garrett opened his mouth to tell her she could use the cabin any time she wanted to—and then caught himself before the words could escape.

It only felt like he’d known her forever. Tomorrow, he would take her home. Maybe he’d talk her into giving him her number. Who could say what would happen from there?

For now, though, offering her the use of his getaway cabin whenever she wanted it was going too far.

* * *

In the morning after breakfast, they loaded up the Jeep with Garrett’s clothes, his camping stuff and the leftover food. He turned off the hot water, drained the tank and shut off the water to the cabin, too, just in case he didn’t make it back up the mountain before winter set in. He unplugged the fridge and braced the door slightly open. Then he locked the cabin up tight.

At the Jeep, Cami paused to take in the plain, unpainted structure with its narrow front porch and red tin roof. “I’m going to miss this place.”

Garrett couldn’t stop himself from reaching out a hand to cradle the side of her face. Her black eye was open now, most of the swelling gone, though it was still a startling blend of black, brown and purple fading into green. She gazed up at him solemnly.

“I’ve loved having you here,” he said.

Her throat moved as she swallowed. Her soft lips parted. He had no idea what she was going to say.

And he decided it would probably be wiser not to find out. “Come on. Let’s get moving.” He dropped his hand from her cheek and opened the door for Munch to hop in.

* * *

She didn’t say much on the drive down the mountain. That surprised him.

He realized he’d been bracing for some kind of resistance from her. But she was quiet and accepting, her thoughtful gaze focused on the winding dirt road ahead.

Was she too quiet?

He hoped she was okay, that she hadn’t started to stew over what would come next.

“So, Denver, then?” he asked when they approached the turnoff.

“You know,” she said casually, “just take me to Justice Creek, if that’s okay.”

“But I thought—”

She cut him off with an airy wave of her hand. “No, really. I’ll rent a car and drive myself back when I’m good and ready. But for now, I think I’ll try Justice Creek for a while.”

“Uh, you will?” Not only was he surprised at her abrupt change of plans, but he was suddenly ridiculously happy, which alarmed him a little.

“Yeah. I’ll get a hotel room. Do you know a good place?”

He eased onto the state highway going west, toward Justice Creek. As he made the turn, he decided he couldn’t just leave her at some hotel. “How about this? Come to my place first. We’ll drop Munch off and put the food away and then we can, you know, talk about your options...”

The smile she gave him made the sunny day even brighter. “That sounds like a great idea. Your house, it is.”

* * *

Cami’s heart swelled with gratitude.

Garrett Bravo was not only hot and way too handsome, he was a good guy. A real-life hero, a hero who’d been up there on Moosejaw Mountain just when she needed a hero the most. Someday she would figure out how to repay him.

No, she had no idea where she was going or what she would do when she got there.

But so what? She was finally playing life by ear and loving every minute of it, following her instincts for once, the way she’d always longed to do.

Her condo in Denver was already on the market. At some point, she’d have to pack everything up and move it all to wherever she ended up living. But none of that had to be done right away.

First things first. She needed to get going on the rest of her life.

Whatever that might turn out to be.

The state highway became East Central Street as they entered the town of Justice Creek. They passed the town hall and Library Park on the right. Charming shops lined the street on either side.

Cami had always thought Justice Creek was a great place. With Denver only a ninety-minute drive away, the pretty little town at the edge of the national forest made a perfect day-trip destination. Cami had visited several times. She’d caught the summer rodeo once and shopped the annual Christmas fair the last four years running.

Every time she’d come to town, she’d felt right at home.

And now, today, with her life wide-open in front of her, Cami saw Justice Creek for what it was: a perfect jewel nestled in its own small valley, surrounded by spectacular mountains. The kind of place where a person like her might be happy to settle down.

They passed the turn to Oldfield Avenue. She glanced out her side window and saw the white walls and red tile roof of the world-famous Haltersham Hotel. It was perched on a rocky promontory with gray, craggy peaks looming above it.

Right then, with the magnificent old hotel in her sights, Cami experienced a moment of great clarity.

No wonder she’d ended up with Garrett and Munchy on Moosejaw Mountain. Her subconscious had been leading her right here to Justice Creek the whole time.

This town...

Oh, definitely. This was the town for her.

It was all so simple, so perfect and clear. The question of where she would live the rest of her life was already answered, had been answered long ago. The truth had only been waiting for her to be ready to see it.

Justice Creek would be her new home.

Chapter Three

A curving pebbled driveway led up to Garrett’s house on Mountainview Avenue in Haltersham Heights not far from the hotel. The exterior was weathered cedar and shingles and silver-gray stone, with lots of big windows.

Inside, those windows let in plenty of light. The modern kitchen and dining room opened onto the living area. Two sets of glass doors led out to a low deck and a patio, complete with a fire pit.

“What a beautiful house.” Cami set a box from the cabin on the gorgeous granite counter. It had a swirling pattern of cream, brown and silver. “Kind of modern and rustic, both at once.” The vaulted wood ceilings had log accent beams.

Garrett opened the glass door by the table to let Munch out. “I had it built it a few years ago, when Bravo Construction really started making money.”

She watched Munch bound off the deck and into the yard. “He won’t run off?”

“There’s a fence. He’s fine.”

Together, they brought in all the food. Garrett said he didn’t mind her looking in his cabinets to see where things went, so she got to work putting the food away while he unloaded his clothes and a bunch of random camping equipment.

“I’m just going to get a load of laundry started,” he said and vanished down the hallway off the kitchen.

Cami put boxes of crackers and cold cereal in an upper cabinet and then made herself march to the end of the counter where she’d dropped her Birkin bag on the first trip in from the garage. With a grimace of dread, she took out her phone. She’d fully charged it at the cabin and turned it off when they left.

As soon as she turned it on, there would be a flood of frantic calls, texts and messages to deal with. Up on the mountain, it had been so easy to tune out the real world. Not anymore. The time had come to deal with everyone she’d been trying not to think about. They were going to be very upset with her when they found out that she had purposely avoided dealing with them since Saturday afternoon.

She was still standing there with the powered-off phone in her hand when Garrett emerged from the laundry room.

“That is not a happy face.” He put his arm around her.

She leaned into his solid strength, breathed in his woodsy scent and made herself smile up at him. “I think I’ll just go out and sit on that back deck while I make a few calls.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Take me back up the mountain. We’ll stay there forever, just you and me and Munchy. “Thanks, but I think this is something I need to deal with myself.”

* * *

Garrett got busy putting his gear away in the garage.

When he returned to the kitchen, she was still outside, pacing back and forth across the wide patio tiles, the phone to her ear. Munch, panting anxiously, trailed along behind her. Garrett stood at the glass door admiring the shine to her thick gold hair. How could she be so pretty even in his ill-fitting old jeans and faded shirt?

When she glanced over and saw him watching her, she gave him a quick wave and went back to her pacing. It looked like the phone calls were going to take a while.

He finished putting the kitchen stuff away and made them some sandwiches. When she finally came inside, she went straight to the end of the counter and stuck her phone back in her giant purse.

“You made lunch,” she said, her eyes worried, her smile way too bright.

“Come on.” He pulled out one of the high padded chairs at the kitchen island. “Everything will look better after you eat.”

She got up on the stool. “Yum. I’m so hungry.”

He let her polish off half of her turkey on rye before he asked, “So. Want to talk about it?”

She gave a tiny shrug. “My parents are furious. They demanded I return to Denver immediately. I told them I’m not coming back except to close up my condo and pick up my stuff.”

He touched her arm in reassurance. “I’m sorry, Cami.”

“Yeah.” She forced another sad little smile. “Me, too.”

“How was it with Charles?”

“Not much better—scratch that. Worse. He said he had to see me immediately, that we had to talk.”

“Don’t let the guy bully you.”

“I’m not. I told him I needed to think about the whole face-to-face idea. I made it clear that I wasn’t coming back, so there really was no point in us meeting. He was calling me bad names when I hung up.”

“What an ass.”

“Well, I did leave the guy at that altar, after all.”

“And now he wants to talk about that? What’s the point?”

Now she was the one putting her hand on his arm. It felt really good there. “I don’t know, Garrett. I mean, I love that you’re on my side, but I do feel guilty about running away. It had to be pretty awful for him.”

“Talking about it with him isn’t going to fix anything.”

“I know you’re right. But as I said, I haven’t decided whether to talk to him or not.”

“If you do decide to see him, meet him here.”

“Why?”

“I should be close by, just in case.”

She patted his arm and then picked up the other half of her sandwich. “At least my maid of honor was understanding. She promised she’d call my other bridesmaids and tell them I’m okay. It’s so weird.” She stared thoughtfully down at the triangle of sandwich in her hands. “I like my maid of honor, but I never felt all that close to her. It’s as if, in Denver, I was just going through the motions, acting out living a life that wasn’t really mine—oh, and, apparently, I’m a missing person, so I guess I need to go see the police and explain how I’m not so missing, after all.”

“That, I can definitely help you with.”