Falling For The Hometown Hero

Chapter Two

Kaleb held the passenger door of his Jeep open as Grace, now sporting a ponytail and a plain gray T-shirt, reluctantly climbed inside. Clearly, she was a strong, independent woman, evidenced by the fact that she drove a motorcycle and was staying alone at the campground. Still, he preferred to make sure things were done and done right.

“This really isn’t necessary, you know.” Grace’s tone held a hint of annoyance, which he chose to ignore.

“So you’ve said.” He tossed the door closed, continued around to the driver’s side and hopped in. “But given that you’re new in town, it’s only logical that I should offer my newest employee a hand. People helping people. That’s how we are in Ouray.”

While she stared out the window, he started the vehicle, crossed Main Street and headed down Seventh Avenue.

Grace jerked her head in his direction. “How do you know which way to go?”

“Easy.” He eyed the cross streets for traffic. “There are only two RV parks within walking distance of Main Street. I saw you coming up Seventh before turning into the hardware store.” He shrugged. “Simple process of elimination.”

She didn’t say anything, but her narrowed eyes told him she wasn’t necessarily pleased with his observation. Not that he cared. War had taught him to pay attention to detail.

He made a right onto Oak Street, gravel crunching beneath the Jeep’s heavy-duty tires. “I’ll have to rely on you to direct me to your campsite, though. Either that or drive around until I see your motorcycle.”

“Wouldn’t take you long. I’m just a few sites into the campground.”

Sure enough. Once they’d passed the office on the right and showers to their left, he spotted her motorcycle and camper.

Grace was halfway out the door before he even brought the Jeep to a stop in front of her campsite. She moved around the vehicle and continued straight on to her tent.

Women. He hoped she wasn’t going to be this stubborn about everything.

She had a tire that needed fixing, though, and he intended to do just that.

He stepped out of the Jeep and retrieved his toolbox from the backseat. When he turned around, Grace reappeared—carrying a toolbox.

Uh-oh. Tread lightly, Palmer.

“For the record—” he set his toolbox on the ground beside her motorcycle “—I’m not a chauvinist or anything. I just like to make sure things are done correctly.”

She set her toolbox down with a thud, then crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t think I can do it correctly?”

“I didn’t say that.” He eyeballed the flat tire, spotting the nail right away. “It’ll just make me feel better, that’s all.”

Kneeling on his good knee, he lifted the lid on his toolbox and reached for a pair of pliers. “Do you have a compressor or something to inflate the tire once it’s repaired?”

She continued to glare at him. “Wouldn’t take a road trip without one.”

“Glad to hear it.” Using the pliers, he pulled the nail from the tire. “You said you had a plug tool?”

Her brow shot up. “You mean you don’t have one?”

He pondered the spitfire staring down at him. “Actually...” He dug through his toolbox until he found his own plug kit tucked in the bottom. “Yep.” He held it up.

Threading the thick rubbery plug through the eye of the tool that was best described as a giant needle with a handle, he glanced over his shoulder.

“That’s an interesting setup you’ve got there.” Definitely not like the campers he was used to seeing. Instead of the pop-up going up and out on both ends, it went up and then out on one side, making it look like a tent sitting on a wagon.

“Thanks.” Arms still crossed, she watched as he jammed the tool into the tire. “It belonged to my dad.”

Melancholy wove its way through her last statement, telling him far more than her words.

“I take it he’s no longer with us?”

“Cancer.” She scraped a booted foot across the gravel. “Four years ago.”

Even with the distance of time, her grief was evident.

“He must have been a young man.” Kaleb pulled the tool back out then grabbed a pair of cutters to trim the excess plug.

“Fifty-six.”

That had to be difficult. Losing someone who, by all counts, was in the prime of their life. He knew what that was like. Tossing his tools back into the box, he stood and looked at her, his annoyance fading. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” Despite a momentary chink, her armor was back in place. “I’ll get that compressor.”

She turned and again headed for her tent, but not before he noticed the sadness in her hazel eyes. Beyond the striking mix of green, brown and gold, there lurked something that intrigued him all the more.

For all of Grace’s toughness, it seemed her heart was as tender as the wildflowers that blanketed the mountains in late July. Those that endured the harshest of winters only to flourish and grow more beautiful.

Not at all like Gina, his ex-fiancée. She’d wilted as soon as the storm clouds rolled in.

The hum of an electric engine drew his attention. Looking up the road, he spotted Luann Carter zooming toward him in her signature red golf cart, her grin as wide as ever.

She slowed to stop in front of him. “I thought that was you, Kaleb.” She hopped out, scurried around the cart and greeted him with a hug. “It’s always a joy to see you.”

“How’s it going?” He released the sixty-some-year-old redhead and peered down at her. Luann was a short one all right. Not even reaching five feet tall. But what she lacked in height, she more than made up for in spirit.

“Just wonderful. And how ’bout yourself? I’m sure you’re so busy you’re havin’ to turn away customers.”

“I wish things were that good, Luann. But I’m hoping they’ll pick up after Memorial Day.”

“That reminds me. ” She wagged a finger his way. “Make sure you bring me some brochures. I want to have plenty on hand so I can tell everyone about the new Mountain View Tours.”

He couldn’t help smiling. Seemed the whole town had rallied around him, willing him to bring this fledgling company back from the brink of disaster. He was determined to show that their faith in him wasn’t unfounded.

“I’ll be sure and do that just as soon as I get them printed.” Of course, before he could do that, he had to have someone design them. Add that to the long list of things he had yet to do.

“Well, hello there.” Luann’s attention shifted to somewhere behind him.

He turned to find Grace, compressor in hand. “Luann, I’d like you to meet my new office manager. Grace McAllen, this is Luann Carter. She and her husband, Bud, own the campground.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Grace smiled at the older woman. “I think I met your husband when I checked in.”

Luann waved a hand. “Probably. I’ve been out running errands most of the afternoon.” Her assessing gaze skimmed over Grace. “So you’ll be working with Kaleb?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, let me tell you, sugar, this is probably one of the finest young men you could ever work for.” Luann rested a hand on his arm. “He is kind, generous, respectful...” She hesitated a moment, then forged on. “Ol’ Bud and I were having some car trouble back this winter and, well, things were a little tight financially.” She gently squeezed his arm. “So Kaleb here fixed it for us and didn’t charge us a thing, ’cept for the parts.”

Warmth crept up Kaleb’s neck as Grace’s focus shifted to him.

“Poor fella spent two days in that freezing-cold garage and never asked for anything more than one of my coconut cream pies.”

He cleared his throat. “Grace, if you ever have one of Luann’s coconut pies, you’ll understand that it was a very fair trade.”

Luann playfully swatted him, her own cheeks turning pink. “Oh, stop, you.”

Grace watched the two of them, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “You have a lovely campground, Luann.”

“Thank you, sugar.” Luann’s phone whistled. She tugged it from the clip attached to the pocket of her cargo pants and looked at the screen. “Looks like Bud needs me. Gettin’ close to dinnertime, you know.” She winked at Kaleb before turning her attention back to Grace. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

Luann hugged both of them before hurrying back to her golf cart. “Catch ya later.” She waved as she sped off.

Kaleb looked at Grace and they both cracked up.

“You won’t find many people with a bigger heart than Luann,” he said.

Grace lifted a shoulder. “According to her, you’ll give her a pretty good run for her money.”

“Yeah, well. She tends to exaggerate.” He toed at the dirt. “Hey, look, about the tire. I’m sorry if I was a little pushy.”

“A little?” There went that perfectly arched brow again.

“Okay, so one of the first things you should probably know about me is that I like to be in control.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Does that mean you’ll constantly be looking over my shoulder at work? Questioning my abilities?”

“Not at all. Your job entails things I won’t even pretend to know about. But I do appreciate an attention to detail and, based on our earlier conversations, I think you bring that to the table.”

She nodded, her lips pursed. “And just so you’ll know, I’m...not usually so stubborn. My mother taught me to play well with others.”

He chuckled.

“Speaking of my mother, can you tell me how to get to Fifth Street?”

“Sure.” He pointed toward the southeast corner of town. “Simply head up Seventh Avenue and make a right onto Fifth.” He faced her again. “Donna and Roger will be happy to see you.”

Her smile evaporated, her eyes narrowing. “How do you know who my mother is?”

His stomach muscles tightened. She didn’t know. “Uh, Roger. He’s one of my guides. Matter of fact, he’s the one who convinced me I should buy Mountain View Tours.” Even going so far as to provide some financial backing. But she didn’t need to know that. Nor did she need to know that, after learning Grace was one of the applicants for the office-manager position, Roger was the one who’d recommended her for the job.

“One of your guides?”

“I’m surprised they didn’t say anything to you.”

“I’m not.” The words were mumbled, so he wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

“What?”

“I mean, they probably thought I already knew.” She shifted the compressor to her other hand and proceeded to unroll the electrical cord. “So, it looks like Roger and I will be working together, huh?”

“To a point, yeah. I mean, he’s a guide, so it’s not like he’ll be hanging around the office all day or anything.” Lowering his head, he tried to read her expression. “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

She continued with the cord, seemingly taking forever. When her eyes finally met his, her smile appeared a little too forced. “No. No problem at all.”

Then why did he suddenly get the feeling it was going to be a big problem?

* * *

With her tire fixed and Kaleb gone, Grace swapped her traveling clothes for a pair of skinny jeans and a long-sleeved tunic top and grabbed a quick bite to eat before heading to her mother’s. She hadn’t planned to visit until tomorrow evening. However, after learning that Roger worked for Kaleb, she decided she’d better put in an appearance tonight or else face the possibility of an even more awkward scene tomorrow at work.

Why hadn’t Mama said something—anything—when Grace told her where she’d be working? Instead, her email said simply, Can’t wait to see you.

Now, as Grace plodded up Seventh Avenue, hesitation plagued each step, her roast beef sandwich souring in her stomach. She and her mother had never had the kind of close relationship Grace had shared with her father. No, while her mother and Lucy bonded over clothes and shoes, Grace and her father bonded over motorcycles.

Then, suddenly, Daddy was gone and Mama married someone else. Leaving Grace drifting aimlessly, without a compass or anything to hold on to. Not even her husband.

Seemed she didn’t fit in anywhere.

Turning onto Fifth Street, she continued a couple more blocks. Moving past the rows of mostly older homes, some well kept, some not so much, she could feel the weight of anxiety settling in her chest. Then she spotted the slate-blue-and-white Queen Anne style two-story.

Her heart pounded against her rib cage. How could she do this? Set foot inside his house? Not her mother’s, not one they’d purchased together, but the house Roger had grown up in, according to her mother.

You’re simply going to visit your mother.

She drew in a deep breath. That was right. Maybe he wouldn’t even be there. She eyed the white wicker chairs and love seat on the porch. Perhaps she wouldn’t even have to go inside.

Picking up the pace, she marched up the front walk, climbed the two white wooden steps and rang the doorbell.

A minute later, the door swung open, and Roger stood before her. His silver hair still had that tousled appearance, and the medium blue Henley he wore seemed to match the color of his eyes. If he were anyone else, she’d think him a fairly handsome man.

“Grace!” Though his smile was quick, his brow puckered in confusion as he pushed open the screen door. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow. Come on in.”

The aroma of lavender and vanilla wafted outside, stirring fond memories of every military house Grace had ever lived in. No matter where in the world they were, Mama’s favorite fragrance made it feel like home.

Shaking off the recollection, she kept her feet planted on the porch. “Um...is my mother here?”

“’Fraid not. They’re having a VBS planning meeting at the church tonight.”

Of course, her mother would be there. She had taken an active role in every vacation Bible school at every church they’d ever attended.

Apparently her love for Grace’s father was the only thing that didn’t transcend time.

Roger held the door wider. “You’re welcome to come in and wait on her, though.”

“No. Thank you.” Grace squared her shoulders. “I hear you’re a guide at Mountain View Tours.”

“Going into my fourth year.”

She nodded. “And nobody felt the need to share this information with me?”

He moved out onto the porch in his white sock feet. “We weren’t trying to deceive you, Grace. We were afraid that if you knew I worked there, too, you might not come. Your mother’s looking forward to seeing you.”

Looking everywhere but at Roger—the wooden floorboards, the neighbor’s house, the hanging flower basket swaying in the breeze—Grace fought to keep her breathing even as the words seeped in. While her knee-jerk reaction was to reject the notion, she knew deep inside that Roger was probably right.

“In that case—” she started down the steps “—I guess I’ll see you around. Tell my mother I stopped by.”

“I’ll do that. And, Grace?”

As much as she hated to, she halted her retreat and turned.

“You’re welcome here anytime.” His smile was sincere, the lines around his eyes indicating it was something he did a lot.

Maybe Lucy was right. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. But Grace wouldn’t betray her father.

Her gaze drifted to the ground before bouncing back to Roger. “Good night.”

She moved down the street at a much faster pace than when she’d arrived, ready to put this day behind her. Despite her long sleeves, the cool evening air sent chill bumps skittering down her arms, making her wish she’d brought her jacket. All she wanted to do now was get back to her camp, crawl into bed and hope tomorrow wasn’t as convoluted as today.

Coming to Ouray was supposed to rejuvenate her. Instead, it felt more like a chore. That cruise ship was sounding better and better all the time.

Rubbing her arms, she surveyed the surrounding mountains. Though the town lay bathed in shadows, the sun’s fading rays radiated from behind the western slope. Glancing eastward, her breath caught in her throat. The gray, volcanic-looking mountains that seemed to hug the town were now painted the most beautiful, yet indescribable color. Shades of orange, rose and yellow blended into one harmonious hue that was unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

“Grace?”

Turning, she saw Kaleb coming up the block. Couldn’t she go anywhere in this town without running into him?

Gravel crunched beneath each step as he continued toward her, looking annoyingly handsome. “Enjoying the alpenglow?”

“The what?”

Hands on his hips, he nodded in the direction of the colorful mountain. “Alpenglow. It’s a phenomenon that often happens this time of night.”

She readily focused on nature’s beauty. “What causes it?”

He shrugged. “Something about the sun reflecting off particles in the atmosphere. I tend not to question it. I simply enjoy it.”

“I can see why.” It had that same captivating quality as a rainbow. A supernatural splendor that commanded one’s attention.

“Were you visiting your mom?”

The colors had begun to fade by the time she faced Kaleb. “That was my intention, but she wasn’t home. Roger said something about a vacation Bible school meeting.”

“Yeah, that was tonight.” He dragged the toe of his work boot over the dirt road. “Did you and Roger have a nice visit?”

Visit? They barely conversed. But getting the impression that Kaleb was rather fond of Roger, she said, “I suppose. Yeah.”

“He’s a good man. A fellow vet, too. But then, I suppose you already knew that.”

She did not, but was too exhausted to offer anything more than a nod.

“Hey, I hate to cut this short, but I need to get back to camp. New job tomorrow.” She had to make herself smile. “Gotta get a good night’s rest so I can make a good impression on my boss.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” His grin set off a strange and unwanted fluttering in her midsection. “Don’t forget to make sure any food you’ve got at your campsite is secured inside a cooler or something with a latch. Bears like to wander down the mountain at night and help themselves.”

She puffed out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

His smile evaporated. “Not at all. I’m surprised Bud didn’t say something to you when you checked in.”

The fluttering morphed into a whirlwind. “Let me get this straight. While I’m asleep, bears are going to be roaming around my campsite?”

“Possibly.”

She surveyed the rapidly darkening sky, sweat suddenly beading her brow. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Despite the fatigue nipping at her heels, she broke into a jog.

Controlling bosses, working with her stepfather and now bears. With all that on her mind, she’d never get any sleep.

At this rate, Ouray was turning out to be the worst idea her sister ever had.

Chapter Three

Kaleb pulled his Jeep into a parking spot alongside Mountain View Tours shortly after noon the next day. As promised, he’d taken Grace on her first tour to Yankee Boy Basin and, so far, it had been a fantastic day. “My goal is to create a memorable experience for each of our guests. One they’ll talk about for the rest of their lives.”

And judging by Grace’s reaction, he’d achieved just that. The look of unequivocal reverence as she took in the snow-covered peaks that stretched as far as the eye could see was something he’d never forget. Her genuine interest and appreciation for every little thing, from the old mines to the cascading waterfalls to a grosbeak’s sweet song, reinforced his belief that he’d made the right decision in hiring her.

Now he shifted the vehicle into Park, glancing toward her in the passenger seat. “Unfortunately, the previous owner didn’t feel the same way, so I’ve got an uphill battle.”

“Which is why we need to appeal to folks from the moment they walk into Mountain View Tours, if not before.” She gathered her things and exited the vehicle.

He climbed out, liking the way she used the word we, as if they were one, focused on the same common goal. Yes, the sooner he could bring Grace up to speed and put her to work, the better off his business would be. Memorial weekend, the unofficial kickoff of the high season, was only a few weeks away, and there was still much to do.

Meeting her at the front of the Jeep, he stared down at her. “And how do we do that?”

“I have a few ideas, though you may not like them.” She wasn’t afraid to meet his gaze. As though issuing a challenge.

Like he’d back down from a challenge. “Try me.”

“Okay. You said you want to create a memorable experience for your guests.”

“Yes.”

“What if we added a tagline?” She shifted her weight from one foot to the next. “Something like, ‘Mountain View Tours... Memories in the making.’”

He let the phrase tumble through his brain. “Okay. Yeah. I’m kinda liking that. Tells people exactly what our goal is.”

“Just like a tagline is supposed to.”

“That would look good on my new brochures, too.” Rubbing his chin, he took a step back. “Which reminds me. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about designing brochures, would you?”

“Sure. I’m pretty good with websites, too.”

He couldn’t stop smiling. “Grace, you may just be the best thing that ever happened to Mountain View Tours. So what other suggestions have you got?”

Clasping her notepad and camera against her chest, she took a deep breath. “I think you need to consider sprucing up the front office. Something as simple as a fresh coat of—”

“No.”

“Why no—”

“We discussed this yesterday. The rustic look stays.”

She took a step closer, her gaze narrowing. “For your information, it’s industrial, not rustic. And it only works if it’s done right.” She pointed toward the building. “That’s not it.”

Hands on his hips, he put himself toe-to-toe with her. “So what? My building, my business, my decor.”

After a momentary staredown, she took a step back. “You asked for my input.”

Something he’d think twice about next time.

Exasperation mounting, he started toward the building and pushed through the front door, the heels of his work boots hammering against the concrete floor. “Sami, would you please tell Grace the office looks perfectly fine.”