Chapter 1

1

JONAH

T he forest is perfect today.

Life just getting on with the business of growing. Everything is quiet, except for the tiny rustles of birds, squirrels, and the odd croak of a frog.

My boots trudge almost silently along Maple Trail. It's my turn to check the paths just before sunset to make sure nobody gets caught out in the woods after dark.

So far I've been pretty lucky, and the only mishaps on my watch have been teenagers with a twisted ankle, or couples who desperately realized they needed some bug spray at twilight. Ironic that I'm the one with the most medical training, yet I rarely come across anyone in the woods who really requires it.

As the sun begins to dip over the mountain peak, the long shadows become deeper, stretching out as they turn the greens to gray. The perfect stillness of the forest is broken when I reach the river. The light babble of the stream is a quiet companion as I continue walking.

The sound of the water grows louder as I near the rapids. The path takes a turn away from them, yet the water can still be heard bouncing across a half mile of jagged rock. There are several steep drops, which is why we've installed garish yellow signs beside the river at this point: "Rapids ahead — no boating past this point."

Personally, I wanted the sign to read, "Deadly rapids ahead. Choppy water and rocks will kill you. Don't be stupid." But I was outvoted.

I pause to watch the waves dance over a large rock right at the bend.

Then I hear a terrified squeal just up ahead.

My feet take me at top speed around the corner, where I see a young woman clutching the far side of the rock.

"Hold on," I bellow, making her flinch a bit in surprise. "I'm here to help."

She's facing the rock, but nods slightly, her voice drifting up faintly as she mutters something I can't make out.

She's shaking. I'm not surprised: at this time of year, the water is cold . I need to get her out of there before she loses all her strength.

I scan the edge of the river. This is the worst possible spot for me to try to get in. Thick spiky brush grows along one edge, and the only break in the scrub has some jagged rocks that might as well be knife blades.

Shit.

I have two choices: pull her up over the rock she's hanging onto and haul her out or tell her to let go and hope that she's able to grasp onto a couple of logs fifty feet downriver.

I carefully study the water patterns for a few seconds, then decide the current is too strong for the second option after yesterday's rain. Even if she's a good swimmer, there's maybe only a fifty-fifty shot of her getting close enough to the logs to grab on. They're probably slippery. And who knows what her grip strength is like.

Assessing the odds is part of what I do. She's already probably weakened from being so cold, and she's not exactly one of my former soldiers who signed up for danger.

It's option one. I'll have to pull her up over the rock.

Flinging my jacket to the ground, I wade into the river, then climb up over the rock. Reaching down, I grab her firmly by the forearm. She looks up at me…

And I'm instantly transported.

Her luminous light gray eyes are otherworldly. I'd say she's beautiful…except the word beautiful isn't strong or powerful enough. She's like a storybook goddess brought to life.

Inhaling sharply, I give my head a shake. I've been trained to ignore distractions. Focus, man.

"It's okay. I've got you. We have two choices," I tell her, forcing a smile to put her at ease and trying not to let my teeth chatter. "If I let you go, you'll have to twist, and then swim really hard and fast for those logs so that you don't go any further down river to the rapids."

I'm not going to mention that she could be torn apart by the ferocious rocks. She's trembling enough already.

"I'm not very strong," she mutters, teeth rattling.

"In that case, I'm just going to have to pull you up over this rock. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

My teeth grit. "You need to keep your knees and feet engaged so that I'm not scraping all of your weight across your ribs. I don't want to hurt you more than I have to."

Her sweet smile sends a bizarre prickling sensation down my spine. "Rather…b-be dragged than tumble…hit r-rapids."

I spread my legs so I can grip the boulder with my thighs, stabilizing me as I grasp her other arm. Using my full strength, I pull her up, trying my best not to scrape her up too badly.

Suddenly her foot slips, and her entire weight comes down hard on the left side of her ribs. It takes more than a little scrambling, and grabbing her using a very inelegant hold, but eventually I manage to get her out of the river and on her feet in the shallow water.

The second the tension in her body releases, she begins to shiver from head to toe.

I hurry her onto the trail, then wrap my jacket around her narrow shoulders. "Thank you," she sputters. "Th-thought I was d-doomed."

We take a few steps, and she winces.

Pushing the jacket open, I look to check if her side is bleeding. Her eyes grow wide. "I'm a medic," I explain. "Does it feel like anything is broken?"

Her perfect, although still slightly bluish, lips turn up in the most incredible smile I've ever seen.

I've honestly never experienced a smile like this before. My guts might as well have been scrambled in those rapids. Swallowing hard, I try to focus on what she's saying.

"Not broken. Just…squished, I guess."

"May I do a quick check?"

"Sure." She lifts her left arm out of the way. I run my hand along the side of her ribs, right under her breast. Nothing feels out of place, thank goodness. "Can you take a full breath in for me, stretching out your lungs."

When she does so, she pulls a face. "Okay, that's uncomfortable, but I think everything's in working order."

"Good. You'd be cursing a blue streak, if anything was cracked. Are you okay to walk to the trailhead, or do you want me to carry you?"

She tries to speak, then sputters, her teeth chattering from the cold, her head nodding furiously.

"I think your body just answered for you there." Scooping her up gently in my arms, she slings her right arm around my neck. I move slowly at first, waiting until she settles and gets comfortable. Then I pick up the pace, striding quickly toward my truck.

"I'm Brooke, by the way."

Typical. I'm holding a gorgeous woman in my arms, and I don't even think to introduce myself. What the hell is wrong with me? Dammit, this is why I'm single.

"Jonah. Jonah Wolfe."

Even though she's shivering, her smile is sassy. "You must be a bigshot. I've seen your name all over the place around here."

"Yeah, my family has roots in this mountain as deep as the trees'."

"I like the sound of that. It must feel incredible, belonging to a place."

Interesting. I never once thought of it like that.

It's impossible to take my eyes off this woman. I want to study every last inch of her. The light smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. Her thick auburn hair, tied up in a messy bun. The way her delicate face is so expressive, although she's far too pale right now.

I reach the trailhead, and don't want to set her down. When I arrived, there were four cars in the lot. Now, apart from my truck, there's only one – a battered old, brown station wagon that looks like it should've been replaced twenty years ago.

"I can drive you to the hospital. There isn't one in Old Hemlock Valley, but West Stoneburg is only about a half an hour away."

"Oh, it's fine," she says quickly. "I don't want to be a bother."

Setting Brooke carefully on her feet, I keep a hand on her shoulder, not quite trusting her not to lose her footing. "It's no bother. You're my patient."

Her perfect eyebrow raises on one side. "Patient?"

"Yes. Like I said: I'm a medic. I'd rather not release you until you've been properly treated. Which means warmed up and examined properly."

Watching her eyes carefully, I look for any signs of fear. Most of my patients are okay with my size and crusty demeanor, because they've known me forever. But this girl doesn't know me. For all she knows, I could be some kind of crackpot.

"I'm fine," she says again, but her resolve is weakening. "I can drive into town, check back into the hotel and take a hot bath."

My head is shaking already. "I can't let you drive in your condition. You could pass out." Softening my tone as much as I can, I begin to force a professional smile, then realize it's genuine. "I have a dozen people you can call right now if you'd like to check my references. But I think the healthiest thing we can do right now, if you're worried about the hospital expense, is to get you to my house where you can take a hot shower, drink some tea, and I can check your ribs over properly."

Am I imagining the light in her eyes? Imagining the way she looks up at me with… It's not just a smile. There's something else.

"Thank you," she says softly. "I really appreciate it."

I practically lift her into the truck, cranking the heat and wrapping a blanket around her.

As we drive to my house, I'm flooded with both worry and exhilaration. I'm an expert in picking up signals about someone's health. Injuries. Illness. Complications. Things they're hiding or are embarrassed about.

Reading women, though? I have absolutely no clue.

And yet, it feels like Brooke is interested in me, in more than a healing capacity.

The idea makes my heart race as hard and fast as the rapids.