Chapter 1 - Lena

"Weird weather we are having lately, right Ms. Lena?"

I look up at the familiar sound of Susan's voice as she walks in through the open door of my shop. It's the end of summer and our peak tourist season. Mrs. Susan is pushing past a small group of tourists browsing the gemstones I keep on the front shelves of my shop.

Greyson Ridge is a speck of a mountain town tucked deep in the Rocky Mountains. The weather in the late summer is usually much milder than this. We keep seeing more storms and fog than usual for this time of year. It's already feeling more like late fall. It is as if everything is ending and preparing for winter a couple months earlier than usual.

"Sure is, Mrs. Susan. Gram would have said it's an omen. Are you here for Maurice's tea? I was thinking about him with all these extra storms rolling through and made up some extra, just in case."

The thought pulls at my heart. I miss Gram intensely still. It's been about three years since she passed away. I don't think the hole she left in my heart is any smaller. I just live around it now. Here in the shop, surrounded by everything she taught me, it is so easy to still feel her presence in my life.

"Oh my, an omen of what? And yes, my poor Maurice. His arthritis has been acting up so badly."

"Well, fog like this is usually considered a veil. The omen would be something about lifting that veil, or a new presence being revealed. My grandmother was always far better at those predictions than I was. Tea, though, that I can do. This should help with the inflammation and the pain a bit better. Just remind him, no drinking."

By all measures, Greyson Ridge should be a ghost town like most of the other towns in the area after the Silver Boom. Somehow, our town still survives with modest prosperity for the small population.

Our whopping couple hundred residents is the highest we have recorded in years. Most of the families living here have been around since the town settled, including my own. Mrs. Susan and her husband Maurice run the local market with the help of their sons. I've been treating Maurice's arthritis since I could reach the shop counter.

I package up the blended tea for her, and she pays me, chattering about the usual town gossip. My grandmother had been the town healer and only source of medicine after she took over for her mother.

It's only been three years since our first town Doctor set up shop. Most of the town still comes to me for herbal remedies. I'm pretty sure it's why Dr. Thomas is so insistent on trying to get cozy with me. Either way, I don't really click with our town doctor. He gives me the creeps.

"Did you hear? Someone's finally taken up a longer rental in the old Miller mansion. Apparently, it's a group of young men. Not sure about anything else yet, but Lord knows we need some more young people in this town. Hopefully, one of them will make an honest woman out of you. I had so hoped you would end up with Dr. Thomas when he moved in."

My face stays plastered in a fake smile as the annoyance seeps through me. I love this town, and I also love Mrs. Susan in her own way. The years of having people in town judge me for daring to be a single mother is my constant struggle, especially the older townspeople. When there's nothing all that exciting going on in town, gossip is the sole source of entertainment.

"Oh, not likely a concern there, Mrs. Susan. You know I'm far too much for any man to handle."

"Well, we can always hope, Dear. You'd do so much better with a man in your life."

I am relieved to see my best friend Sarah walking in with coffee and use her as an excuse to get away from Mrs. Susan and her meddling, which is rapidly souring my mood.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Susan, I see Sarah. Can't keep the sheriff waiting."

Sarah is the first female sheriff in Greyson Ridge. We very rarely have any sort of crime worth noting other than the occasional valuables stolen by the town's resident furry bandit, Roscoe. Most of her job is helping coordinate searches for missing tourists and dealing with Merl, the town drunk, when he gets particularly rowdy.

"Have a nice day, Mrs. Harris," Sarah offers with a nod as they cross paths.

"Always good to see you, Sheriff. Maybe you'll land one of these new men, too. Would be so nice to see all you wild girls settled."

Sarah and I share an exaggerated eye roll as Mrs. Susan exits, chattering to herself about unmarried women.

"She's in rare form this morning. What does she mean about new men?"

Sarah hands me a coffee with a shake of her head.

"I'm surprised you haven"t heard yet, Sheriff. Aren't you supposed to know all the big news in town first? A group of men moved into the Miller place. Mrs. Susan is convinced they're here to make honest women out of us wanton hussies."

I mimic Mrs. Susan's voice at the end of my sentence, which causes Sarah to wince and laugh. It's not the first time we've heard Mrs. Susan make plans for our romantic lives, and most likely will not be the last.

The prospect of a group of men is only interesting in that we don't often get long-term residents here. The Miller house is one of the grandest buildings in our small town. One of the first men to strike gold in the area built it to try and appease his wife who had been from the big city.

Last I heard, the family estate is renting it at obscene prices as some sort of long term vacation rental.

"Oh Lord, we're never going to hear the end of it if men have moved in there."

"Nope, and you know she and the other bridge ladies will be all over it within the next hour."

"I'm going to need something stronger than coffee to make it through the day then."

"Way to lead by example, Sheriff."

I laugh and turn to head back to the tourists who have a haul of gemstones and crystals piled up on the counter and stop dead in my tracks as a shiver runs up my spine. I haven't felt this pull in years. Not since… him.

I still remember seeing him for the first time.

I had been late picking Rosie up from school and was trying to run down the street after it had snowed. I was entirely bundled up and not paying attention to where I was walking and had hit a big patch of ice under the snow and started to slide cartoon-style into the door of the diner when a large body was coming out.

He'd caught me so quickly I hadn't really had time to realize that he had fully lifted me up off my feet in the process. I was overwhelmed with the feeling that had jolted through my body. It was an instant pull straight from my soul. In that moment, I'd fallen head over heels for him, even if I hadn't realized it yet.

My eyes search toward the street and catch the source of the feeling and I see him. He's leaning against the brick wall casually, ankles crossed. His muscular arms are crossed tightly across his chest. Tight black jeans hug his sculpted thighs. A gray fitted t-shirt looks like it was poured over every ripple of his toned chest and stomach. His arms look like they're barely contained in it.

His tan skin looks warmer than usual, even in the bleak light of the overcast day. His blond waves loosely fall around his face, giving him that tousled look I remember all too well. His eyes are locked on the shop, and there's a look on his face that I can't quite place.

Cyrus.

Attraction rips through me as quickly as the anger does.

"What the fuck is he doing here?"

"Who?" Sarah asks, turning to look. She tries to figure out what's got me upset and settles on him. "Wait, wait, is that the mystery guy from when I was at school?"

I give her an irritated nod, trying to tear my eyes away from the view of him. The sheer sight of Cyrus makes my skin shiver with anticipation. I still can't fight the raw attraction between me and him. The hurt plunges deep into my heart at the memories of how it ended.

"Oh, damn. What are you going to do, Lena?"

"I have no idea."

What do I say to the man who I planned a life with who up and disappeared? I feel just as strongly drawn to him as I did for those intense couple of months. Every ounce of my soul still tells me he's the one. My actual soulmate.

The pain that sits with me every day since reminds me that just isn't possible. You can't be someone's soul mate and rip their heart out. Finding the perfect match to your heart isn't supposed to be the very thing that destroys you.

I still remember the worry and fear when he didn't come home like it was yesterday. No note. No warning. Nothing. My world is still shattered. I made up this entire fantastic story for Rosie about how he was called away to rescue elephants in Africa since they were her favorite at the time. I'd even gone so far as to write her letters from him for a while.

It took me years to get through the day without crying. I still don't date. There isn't a part of my heart that is willing to go back through that again. Yet, there's a deep part of me that wants to run to him.

Now he just shows up. Out of the blue… and is just standing there like nothing happened? Asshole.

I force the emotions below the surface and try to focus on the customers in front of me. Sarah tries to keep them occupied as I stare blankly across the street. They're asking about other attractions in the area and are a little weirdly specific about copper deposits, which is odd enough that it snaps me out of my daze.

"Wait, if you're just here camping, why do you care about copper deposits that aren't open to the public?"

The woman looks slightly panicked at my pushing back about it and tries to awkwardly laugh it off.

"Oh, we were just curious. Wanted to see what some of these old mines looked like."

"Yeah, that's a great way to play stupid games and win stupid prizes, Ma'am. These old mines aren't open to the public for a reason. Most of them haven't been reinforced and can cave in at random," Sarah interjects, "I should also warn you, most of the people who live up here are a shoot first, ask questions later type when it comes to trespassing. You really should stick to the ones that offer tours. Silverton is a good place to go on the tours."

Something odd passes between the couple in front of me as I finish taking their cash for the purchase. I can't place it. Something about them sets my teeth on edge. I can't tell if it's them or the fact that I can feel a certain pair of amber eyes on me through the shop window.

What the heck is he doing here? Why is my heart doing such a ridiculous little flip over it?

"Oh, yeah, no. We were just wondering. We will definitely stick to the ones on the brochure then. Thank you."

Something about the couple and their answer leaves me unconvinced. It's a bizarre feeling that keeps me distracted for a moment despite my body feeling like it's being pulled across the street to Cyrus.

This couple is definitely the type who seems like they're looking for trouble. I meet Sarah's eyes with a bewildered shake of my head, and she nods while taking off after the couple.

We get people like this from time to time. The type who think they can wander off on some adventure. They're usually the ones who end up going missing on a hike and cause a whole search and rescue effort with the Forest Service. If anyone can talk sense into them, it'll be Sarah.

I walk slowly toward the door behind them all and pause in the doorway, not paying attention to their conversation. Now that the shop is empty, I have nothing to focus on but my past staring at me from across the street. My eyes are lost in the sight of him for a minute before that pang of hurt rips through me again.

The flash of memories is too much. It's like all the good and all the terrible come crashing back into me at once. Cyrus holding me at night. Running my hands through this hair. His hand, sliding down my jaw before he kisses me. Rosie riding on his shoulders for a hike. The empty bed. The empty drawers. Rosie crying. The hole in my chest that I still feel even now with him across the street from me.

I'm off, marching across the street with anger flaring to the surface before I even realize it. I walk up to Cyrus and regret being in flat sneakers since it means I'll have to look up at him while trying to stand my ground.

Stupid short legs. Stupid tall man.

I'm already fighting the heat of tears that want to break free from my eyes. I refuse to let him see me cry. I shed way too many tears for Cyrus, and I refuse to do it again. I have a million insults and questions brimming to the surface, but none are strong enough.

The words won't come out.

Instead, my hand snaps out and slaps him hard across the cheek. I feel oddly disconnected from it. I don't even remember deciding to do it. The loud crack pulls me back into the moment. I immediately turn and start heading back to the shop.