Forever A Hero

“You’re welcome,” he said gravely.

They’d reached the portico in front of the resort. Mace brought the truck to a stop, and an attendant trotted over, smiling.

“Welcome,” he said.

“Thanks,” Kelly responded, strangely dazed.

“Ms. Wright has a reservation,” Mace explained to the young man.

The attendant nodded. “Yes, Mr. Carson,” he said.

“Mr. Carson?” Mace shot back, softening his brisk tone with a grin. “Chill, Jason. I’ve known you since you were in diapers, remember?”

Jason smiled. “I remember,” he confirmed. “But we’re supposed to call everybody either ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am,’ no matter who they are. It’s in the manual.”

Mace shook his head as if disgusted, but Kelly noticed the slight twitch at one corner of his mouth. “Fine,” he said, opening his door. “I’ll be out of here as soon as the lady’s settled in. Mind if I leave the truck with you for a few minutes?”

“No, sir,” Jason said. “I’ll keep an eye on your ride until you get back.” As he spoke, he opened Kelly’s door, helping her out.

“I can take it from here,” she said.

Mace didn’t listen.

Neither did Jason.

She allowed Mace to escort her inside.

Her purse and laptop were waiting for her at the main desk.

“Ms. Wright,” the receptionist said, tapping away at her computer keyboard. “Here you are. We expected you last night.”

Kelly reached for her damp, mud-streaked purse, rummaged for her wallet, extracted her company credit card. “Something came up,” she said.

Oddly, the clerk, a college-aged blonde, glanced questioningly at Mace before accepting the card.

“Just give the lady a room,” he said.

Kelly was confused, but she didn’t ask any questions and continued to hold out her credit card.

The clerk accepted it, swiped, handed it back. “How many key cards would you like?” she asked Kelly, with another look at Mace.

Kelly was mildly annoyed. “One,” she said pointedly.

“Certainly,” the clerk said, beaming. She handed over the key card. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” Kelly said, realizing she sounded ungrateful.

“Do you have luggage?” the young woman asked.

“No,” Kelly answered, holding the other woman’s gaze. “It blew up.”

Beside her, Mace chuckled.

“Oh,” the clerk said, looking baffled. Then she brightened. “We have several good shops right here on the premises. Clothing, makeup, toiletries—whatever you need.”

“I’m glad,” Kelly said, not sounding glad at all. What was the matter with her? This poor woman was trying so hard to be helpful. There was no reason to be testy.

And yet she was.

She felt unsettled, out of her element in this place, with this man.

Which was crazy on two counts. One, she’d stayed in fine hotels and resorts all over the world and fit right in, thank you very much. And, two, she couldn’t think why she found her reactions to Mace Carson mildly disturbing. He was attractive, sure. He’d saved her life, not once, but twice.

And she was grateful, of course.

Then what was bothering her so much?

She didn’t know.

She stepped away from the reception desk, key card in hand. She craved a hot shower and a room-service meal, but first, like it or not, she’d have to visit one or more of the resort shops, find something to wear, buy basic grooming supplies. Her linen pantsuit, the outfit she’d traveled in the day before, was wrinkled, and there were stains on the knees from crawling out of the rental car while Mace held the door, and landing on the wet, muddy pavement.

Caught up in practicality, Kelly was startled when Mace gently took her elbow.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said.

“What about our meeting—”

“We can reschedule,” he replied. “I’ll be in touch.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

Kelly was relieved—she needed to think, and that was difficult to do with Mace Carson around—but part of her wanted to call out to him, even run after him, get him to stay, cling to him.

Cling to him. Like a drowning swimmer or some fragile, needy creature, afraid to be on her own.

Well, Kelly reminded herself, she was none of those things. She was smart, sophisticated, successful. She was strong. Thanks to therapy, a loving family, good friends and a lot of hard work, she’d long since put the trauma of the attack behind her. She’d made mistakes along the way, marrying Alan Wright—among other, lesser poor choices—but so what? Everybody screwed up once in a while, didn’t they?

She turned resolutely and headed for the first of a series of small, eclectic-looking shops.

Twenty minutes later, she was in her room, a spacious minisuite with a balcony and a spectacular view of the Grand Tetons, looming snowcapped in the distance. They were a comforting reminder, those mountains, that the world was a solid place.

She tossed the bags containing her purchases onto the bed, scrounged in her soggy purse for her cell phone and peered at the screen. The familiar icons were there, although the battery was nearly dead.

She thumbed Contacts, found her boss’s name, pressed Call.

Dina answered on the first ring. “Kelly? Oh, my God, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday afternoon—I must’ve left a dozen messages!”

Kelly drew a deep breath and filled Dina in as succinctly as possible, feeling more exhausted with every word.