Smoky Mountain Sweethearts

Not that he’d have any proof, but four more miles in the rain should be enough for one day. Sam hit the trail hard, clearing the first switchback easily, and ran until his heart pounded and he had to concentrate on breathing. The view was forgotten as he focused on each step of the rocky path up and then back down the mountain.

Pleasantly tired and overall satisfied with tying his best time, Sam slid into the truck and started it up. Not much for a firefighter to do on a misty day like this one. There was no lightning to keep things interesting. It was a bad idea to whine about things being too quiet. Mother Nature had a way of kicking up a fuss, but his trip back to Sweetwater was easy enough. When he parked in front of the housing for Otter Lake rangers, he could see his mother’s Cadillac.

Apparently, he’d missed everything but the goodbye, though, because Regina Blackburn was trotting down the covered steps that led to the second-floor apartments. “There you are. Soaking wet.”

She smoothed her sleek bob behind one ear and plucked at his gray T-shirt. “I brought over some groceries and the leftover roast beef you forgot to take with you last night. It’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Sam said as he pretended he was about to give her a bear hug. She shook one hot-pink fingernail in his face.

“Don’t you do it. I’ve got cards with the girls and no time for a change.” She gave each cheek an air-kiss. “Now, I’d ask you what you were doing, but it was something foolish that will make an old woman have palpitations if she discovers her favorite son participating, am I right?”

Sam mimed zipping his lips and tossing the key. The Eagle Nest was safer now after the trail renovation than it had been in decades, but she’d never agree.

She raised one eyebrow at him. “How you can risk that pretty face is beyond me. You better keep it safe.” She tapped his cheek.

“Yes, Mother.” He ducked his head and wondered when she’d notice all the mud on his legs. He should point it out to hear her fuss.

“I should run,” she said and pouted. “Wish you’d been here sooner. We could have warmed up the leftovers.”

The thing about loving his mother was that he was skating dangerously close to becoming one of those guys, the mama’s boys. But she was amazing.

Since she’d retired, she’d taken keeping him well fed seriously.

“I needed to get Ash’s opinion on something.” Sam stared up at the tall pines lining the parking lot and decided to rip off the bandage. “A job opportunity. In Colorado.”

She paused midstep and slowly turned. “Ash’s opinion. On a job that might as well be on the other side of the world.” That was pretty much how he’d expected this conversation to go.

“Yeah, for the Highland team that’s based at Copper Mountain.” Sam braced his hands on his hips, prepared for the worst.

“The crew that fights out-of-control blazes,” she said slowly. “That dies fighting those fires.”

Much like the improved hike to The Eagle Nest, he could tell his mother that they were trained for those conditions and had countless successes for each accident the crew suffered, but she’d never accept that as a logical reason not to worry.

“I won’t get an interview, Mom,” Sam said as he ran a hand through his damp hair. “I bet there are a hundred better-qualified applicants for this one opening. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Well,” she said as she smiled brightly, “you know I believe you can do anything you want to do, so...” Then she marched to her Cadillac and slid in. She gave him her normal jaunty wave on the way out of the parking lot, but he had the feeling she’d be losing sleep until he got his form rejection email.

That would make two of them.

He shouldn’t have told her. That had been his original plan. He always got into trouble when he did too much thinking. Sam trotted up the steps two at a time and resolved to send in his application and then eat every single bit of roast beef in his refrigerator before calling his mother to ask if she had any more.

If she was upset over his news, some of her mood would be restored by his love of her cooking. Regina Blackburn could be talked out of a funk by one needy phone call from her son.

CHAPTER THREE (#u887f6a20-e0ea-541f-9965-13f10b08a08b)

THE THING ABOUT epiphanies was that they never came when Avery wanted them to. After nearly a solid week of living under her mother’s extremely watchful eye, it had become clear they both needed a break from all their new togetherness.

Borrowing the car had been her first step to freedom. When her mother asked for a destination, only one place came to mind. It had been ten years since she’d made the easy hike up to Yanu Falls inside the reserve, but she would never forget the exhilaration of standing on the cliff overlooking the falls that led to a cove of Otter Lake.

Since her mother was hovering again, Avery had grabbed a water bottle, waved her cell phone and said she’d be back that afternoon. After so many years of living in the city, even driving the wide-open road winding up to the Otter Lake trailhead seemed to roll off the weight of years.

The first inkling that not everything would go according to her plan was when she’d collapsed, panting, on the first bench along the trail, the one she and her friends had always called “Better Off Dead.”

Because anyone who had to stop there to rest already had one foot in the grave.

She and her friends had been punks, obviously.

The hike that had taken her half an hour at seventeen took four times that long now, and she’d made unscheduled stops at every bench and flat rock she could find along the way.

None of that mattered once Avery reached the clearing, because she’d managed it. All by herself. Even two weeks ago, walking into the grocery store had been too much of a physical challenge.

“But either all that gasping for air has killed brain cells or the realization of what I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life isn’t coming today,” Avery muttered and pulled her phone out to check the time. She’d sat there, legs folded under her, for so long that they might have frozen into position. She hadn’t seen a bear or an otter, the two main draws, other than the panoramic view of old, dense woods, a wispy waterfall and the sparkling waters of Otter Lake in the distance.

Avery inhaled slowly and forced herself to stand. At least it was easier to breathe here. The cool, dry air flowed in and out, something that she’d learned to never take for granted again after too long inhaling canned hospital air and feeling the crushing panic that came from watching someone she loved dying.

“Forget the revelation. You have another problem.” Avery raised her cell phone higher, hoping to find a signal, without any luck. The sun was dropping quickly, and the climb down, while it would go faster, wasn’t going to be as quick as she’d expected, either.

Her mother would be worried.

In an effort to hurry, Avery stretched her legs, grabbed her long-empty water bottle and started back up the first small rise that led back down to the trailhead parking lot. The unseasonably warm breeze had been perfect while the sun was up. Now a jacket would be nice.

Thanks to the shadows of the setting sun, it was harder to see all the rocks and tree roots that bumped across the trail, so halfway down the second long rise, Avery stubbed her toe, stumbled and landed on one knee with an ugly curse.

The urge to sit down and sob over the injustices of life welled up almost as quickly as she realized she wasn’t hurt, but banged up. The fact that her emotions ran away with her before she even knew where she was heading was twice as irritating as a scraped knee.

“You can’t sit in the dirt and cry like a baby, Avery. People will be searching for you.” The last thing on this earth that she wanted was to be the subject of a manhunt, and if she didn’t get to the bottom and her mother’s car and cell phone service soon, she’d have to move, leave the country and change her name.

She’d brushed off her jeans and tightened her shoestrings in the effort to convince her feet to get with the program when she heard someone yelling. Whoever he was was still a distance away and she couldn’t make out what he was saying, but there was no denying that her search party was already on the hunt.

Annoyed at herself and at her mother, Avery cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Here. I’m here.” Then she pulled her cell phone out and checked again. Still no signal.

Determined to save the poor guy headed her way as many steps as she could, Avery marched up the next rise and had to catch herself on a fallen tree when she tried jogging over rough rocks.

“Avery.” This time she could make out the word clearly.

“Here. I’m here.” Her voice was breathier than it should be, thanks to the pang in her side that made it easier to stay hunched over for a second.

Then her rescuer appeared over the rise and trotted down to meet her.

“Sam Blackburn. It’s been a long time,” Avery said with a lame attempt to convince him she was perfectly fine and had everything under control. They might not have seen each other except for brief flashes whenever she’d made it home for Christmas, but she’d pick him out of a sea of faces. They’d once moved in the same crowd, the previously mentioned punks. She and Sam had either been friends or vicious competitors growing up, but his grandfather was the first one to bring her here to see the falls. Sam and his mother had lived with Gee next door to Avery’s family forever. After Avery’s father’s death, he’d showed her and Sam all the trails she’d ever explored in the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, as a way to save Janet Abernathy’s sanity. When the weekend rolled around, she and Sam were dogging Gee’s steps. And Sam had been the cause or the witness of most of her teenage stunts until she’d graduated from high school and moved to Knoxville to go to college.

While Avery was one more hike up to the cliff away from death, Sam was as strong as he’d been at seventeen. She was also in need of a rescue while he was barely breathing fast. Life was unfair.

“Have a seat.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist to test her pulse and handed her the flashlight. “Hold this for me.”

Avery eased down to the rocky path and turned on the light as Sam pulled a handheld radio off his utility belt.

“Blackburn to base.” Sam handed her a canteen. “Drink.”