Chapter One

The little girl squealed with delight as she ran across the playground, blond hair flying out behind her. When she stumbled and fell she popped up immediately, still laughing, and resumed her race with her companions. Sheriff's deputy Ryker Vernon, standing just on the other side of the playground fence, swallowed past the catch in his throat and marveled at his daughter's—Charlotte's—sunny disposition. Where did she get that from? Not from her mother. Kim had a decidedly darker outlook on life, one that had led her to eventually leave him and her daughter behind.

Charlotte didn't get her happy personality from Ryker, either. Five years as a law enforcement officer had shown him too much of the bad side of people to make him inclined toward lightheartedness. Yet here was Charlotte, bubbly personality intact despite her mother's desertion and their recent relocation back to his hometown of Eagle Mountain, Colorado.

Charlotte reached the apple tree that apparently marked the finish line of the race and stopped, puffing for breath, her round cheeks bright pink, deep dimples on either side of her smiling lips. She turned and caught sight of Ryker and all but jumped for joy. "Daddy!" she shouted, and took off toward him.

Her teacher, Sheila Lindstrom, caught up with her just as Charlotte raced past the boundary of the fence and, also spotting Ryker, accompanied the child to meet him. He was glad to see the teacher was so diligent. "Hello, Deputy Vernon," Sheila said as Charlotte threw her arms around Ryker's legs. "I didn't know you were picking up Charlotte this afternoon." She tucked a strand of hair a shade paler than Charlotte's behind one ear and smiled up at him in a way that reminded him he was a single man in a small town where the dating pool might be thought of as limited.

He didn't return the smile, and took a step back, hoping to give the impression that he wasn't interested. Not that Sheila wasn't a perfectly nice woman, but he was juggling enough right now, with a new job, a new home and a little girl to raise. He didn't need the complications that came with a relationship. "Charlotte's grandmother will be picking her up, as usual," he said. "I just started my shift and since Charlotte will be in bed by the time I'm back home, I swung by to say hello." He rested his hand on the little girl's head as she beamed up at him.

"That's so sweet," Sheila said, and tilted her head to one side, blue eyes still fixed on him as if he was some delectable treat.

"Ryker! What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

He and Sheila and Charlotte all turned to see Ryker's mother, Wanda Vernon, hurrying up the sidewalk toward them. Slender and athletic, with dark curls past her shoulders, Wanda Vernon looked younger than her fifty years, but right now worry lines creased her normally smooth forehead.

"Nothing's wrong, Mom," Ryker reassured her. "I just stopped by to say hello to Charlotte."

"Grammie, I found a horny toad at recess this morning, but teacher made me put it back," Charlotte announced.

"You know our wild friends are happier remaining in the wild," Sheila said.

"I know," Charlotte said. "But he was so pretty. He had gold eyes and a gold and brown body with bumps on it. Amy thought he was icky, but I thought he was beautiful."

Ryker hid his smile behind his hand. That was his daughter. She had never met an insect or amphibian or item from nature that frightened or repelled her.

"Horned toads are very interesting," Wanda said. "But it's always best to just look at them, and not touch. You wouldn't want to accidentally hurt one."

"Oh, I would never do that!" Charlotte looked offended at the idea.

Ryker's shoulder-mounted radio crackled, and the dispatcher's voice came through clearly. "Unit five, report to Dixon Pass, mile marker 97, to assist at accident site. EMS and SAR on the way."

Ryker keyed the mike, aware that everyone within earshot had turned to stare. "Unit five responding. I'm on my way." He squatted down until he was eye level with his daughter. "I have to go now, honey," he said. "Can I have a kiss goodbye?"

She responded by throwing her arms around him and kissing his cheek. "Be careful, Daddy," she said.

"I always am, sweetheart. You be a good girl for Grammie and Grandpa."

"I always am!" she echoed.

"Be careful," his mother and Sheila said in unison as he nodded goodbye, then jogged toward his sheriff's department SUV.

He turned the vehicle toward the highway and switched on lights and sirens to cut a clear path toward the accident. As he passed the preschool he caught a glimpse of Charlotte with his mother on the sidewalk. The little girl was smiling and waving. Some of the heaviness in his heart lifted, as it always did when he was with her. Through all the upheaval in her young life, Charlotte was resilient.

Ryker was trying to follow her example, to roll with the punches life threw at him, or at least do a better job of hiding his bruises.

"I T LOOKS LIKE the vehicle rolled several times before it came to land on that ledge." Eagle Mountain Search and Rescue Captain Danny Irwin stood with the cluster of volunteers on the side of the highway as they peered over the side at the battered silver sedan wedged between a boulder and the cliff approximately one hundred yards below. "You can see pieces of the car that broke off every time the car bounced."

Harper Stanick, a search and rescue rookie, winced as she took in the trail of debris and the battered vehicle. It looked like this was going to be her first body recovery. She had been warned this was part of search and rescue and told herself she was prepared, but still. What would a person look like after enduring that kind of trauma?

"I saw movement!" Paramedic Hannah Richards, who had arrived with the ambulance but joined her fellow SAR volunteers in surveying the scene, pointed at the vehicle. "There's someone alive in there!"

Her exclamation prodded them into action. Danny directed volunteers Eldon Ramsey and Tony Meissner to rig ropes for a rappel onto the ledge beside the car. Harper joined fellow trainees Grace Wilcox, Anna Trent and veteran Christine Mercer in gathering helmets, harnesses, a litter and other gear they would need to stabilize the injured survivor and get them to safety above. Danny radioed to have a medical helicopter land two miles away at the soccer fields in town to meet the ambulance and transport the injured person or persons to the hospital in Junction.

"What can I do to help?"

At the sound of the man's voice, deep and slightly hoarse, Harper fumbled the safety helmets she had been charged with, and had to juggle to keep from losing one. "Careful," Christine said.

"Close the highway, if you haven't already," Danny said. "Clear space on the side of the highway for us to go down and keep everyone back from the edge. We don't want anyone else falling in, or kicking rocks down on top of us as we work."

Harper turned to see who Danny was talking to and this time she did drop the helmets. Seven years since she had laid eyes on Ryker Vernon and she might have thought she was hallucinating him now, except that it made perfect sense for him to be here. Ryker was from Eagle Mountain, just like her. The first thing she had done when she moved back was to snoop around, long enough to determine he had left town, but apparently he had returned. Just like her.

What didn't make sense was that Ryker was now apparently a cop. No mistaking that khaki uniform or the gun on his hip. Ryker, a cop? The motorcycle-riding bad boy who had practically sent her mother into a faint the first time he showed up at their house to pick Harper up for a date was a law enforcement officer?

And damned if he didn't look just as good in that uniform as he had in his motorcycle leathers all those years ago. Better even, his chest a little broader, his jaw firmer. The Ryker she had known had been barely eighteen, still with a bit of the boy about him. This version of him was harder. A man.

"Hey, earth to Harper. Are you okay?" Christine followed Harper's gaze toward the officer who stood with Danny and she grinned. "I take it this is your first encounter with the newest addition to the sheriff's department," she said. "He's pretty easy on the eyes, isn't he?" She nudged Harper with her elbow. "I hear he's a single dad. Maybe when we're done here you can introduce yourself."

The bottom dropped out of Harper's stomach at the word dad . Ryker was a father? When? Who?

"Pull your eyes back in your head and focus on the job," Christine said, her voice firm. "You can chase after the cop later."

Harper turned her back on Ryker. "I'm not going to chase after him," she said. "I was just surprised. He reminds me of someone I used to know."

"Must have been a pretty special someone," Christine said. "The way you were staring at him. Like one of those cartoons, where the air fills with hearts."

"Not like that at all," Harper said, and gathered up the helmets she had dropped. Maybe at one time she was that gaga about Ryker Vernon, but those days were long past.

D ESPITE HOW FAR the vehicle had rolled and the shape the car was in, three people emerged alive. Ryker watched from a distance as search and rescue volunteers descended on ropes to the ledge and worked to stabilize the vehicle, then cut most of the rest of the car away to reach the passengers trapped inside.

First up was an infant, a living testament to the effectiveness of child safety seats, as he sustained nothing more than a minor cut on his forehead from broken glass. Volunteer Eldon Ramsey carried the baby, still secured in his seat, up to the road, where the paramedics pronounced him perfectly okay then reluctantly turned him over to the Victim Services volunteer, who was tasked with locating a relative or temporary foster parent to care for him until his parents were released from the hospital.

Said parents also both survived, with several broken bones between them. They were brought up one at a time strapped into litters. The technical aspects of the maneuvers required to bring them to safety fascinated Ryker, who would admit to being nervous about heights.

"That was amazing," he said to SAR Captain Danny Irwin after the injured had been transported to the waiting helicopter and the road had been reopened. Accident investigators from Colorado State Patrol had arrived on the scene and were taking photographs and measuring skid marks for their reports, so Ryker had turned to helping the search and rescue volunteers with their gear.

"We're always looking for more volunteers," Danny said. "Deputy Jake Gwynn is on the team."

"Yeah, I hear he loves it," Ryker said. "Unfortunately, I can't commit that much time. I need to be with my daughter when I have time off."

"How old is she?" Danny asked.

"Four. It's just the two of us. And my parents. They're a big help."

Danny nodded. "My fiancée has two kids. They're a little older but I get what you mean about wanting to be there for them. They won't be little forever."

"Hey there! I heard you were back in town." Ryker turned to find Hannah Richards grinning up at him. The two of them had been in the same grade at Eagle Mountain High School way back when.

"Hi, Hannah. It's good to see you. I've only been back a couple of weeks. I'm still getting settled."

"Jake told me you signed on with the sheriff's department," she said. She held up one hand to reveal a modest diamond. "He's my fiancé, in case you haven't heard."

"He's mentioned the amazing woman he's engaged to, but I had no idea that was you."

She punched his shoulder and he pretended to recoil in pain, both of them laughing. "Hey, there's someone else here you need to see," Hannah said. She turned and waved. "Harper. Come over and see who the cat dragged in."

The name itself was enough to set Ryker's heart hammering, but seeing the woman herself made his world tilt for a moment. If anything, she was more beautiful than he remembered—her curly brown hair escaping from a twist at the back of her head, her green-hazel eyes fringed with dark lashes. Kim, to whom Ryker had confided the whole story of his and Harper's ill-fated romance, had prickled at what she interpreted as his too-fond descriptions of his teenage girlfriend. "No one is that perfect," she had protested.

But to him, Harper had been perfect. And she had reminded him of how imperfect he was. "Hello, Harper," he said, surprised at how calm and even his voice sounded. "It's good to see you again."

"Hello, Ryker. I heard you'd left town."

He had heard the same about her. "I just moved back," he said.

She was looking at him, but at the uniform, not into his eyes. "I can't believe you're a sheriff's deputy."

"Neither can I, some days." He was trying to make a joke, but the words came off flat. Hannah was watching them, her face full of questions. Did she remember that he and Harper had dated in high school?

Maybe she hadn't known. Harper's rich parents had pitched such a fit about their adored daughter seeing a guy whose father worked at the town's sewage treatment plant that he and Harper had to sneak around in order to see each other.

He had a hundred questions he wanted to ask her: What was she doing back in Eagle Mountain? What kind of work did she do? How had she ended up volunteering with search and rescue?

Was she okay? Could she ever forgive him?

"I have to go," Harper said, and turned away.

"See you around, Ryker," Hannah said. "Jake and I will have you over for dinner sometime."

"Yeah, that would be great," Ryker said, with less enthusiasm than he probably should have. He stared after Harper. She was still beautiful, all shiny hair and soft curves, but more defined now, the blurred edges of youth replaced by the firm lines of maturity. Not that she was old, but she had been through a lot in the past few years.

She had been through a lot, and he hadn't been there with her. One more failure he was having a hard time getting past.