Falling For The Hometown Hero. Mindy Obenhaus

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      “What?”

      “I mean, they probably thought I already knew.” She shifted the compressor to her other hand and proceeded to unroll the electrical cord. “So, it looks like Roger and I will be working together, huh?”

      “To a point, yeah. I mean, he’s a guide, so it’s not like he’ll be hanging around the office all day or anything.” Lowering his head, he tried to read her expression. “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

      She continued with the cord, seemingly taking forever. When her eyes finally met his, her smile appeared a little too forced. “No. No problem at all.”

      Then why did he suddenly get the feeling it was going to be a big problem?

      * * *

      With her tire fixed and Kaleb gone, Grace swapped her traveling clothes for a pair of skinny jeans and a long-sleeved tunic top and grabbed a quick bite to eat before heading to her mother’s. She hadn’t planned to visit until tomorrow evening. However, after learning that Roger worked for Kaleb, she decided she’d better put in an appearance tonight or else face the possibility of an even more awkward scene tomorrow at work.

      Why hadn’t Mama said something—anything—when Grace told her where she’d be working? Instead, her email said simply, Can’t wait to see you.

      Now, as Grace plodded up Seventh Avenue, hesitation plagued each step, her roast beef sandwich souring in her stomach. She and her mother had never had the kind of close relationship Grace had shared with her father. No, while her mother and Lucy bonded over clothes and shoes, Grace and her father bonded over motorcycles.

      Then, suddenly, Daddy was gone and Mama married someone else. Leaving Grace drifting aimlessly, without a compass or anything to hold on to. Not even her husband.

      Seemed she didn’t fit in anywhere.

      Turning onto Fifth Street, she continued a couple more blocks. Moving past the rows of mostly older homes, some well kept, some not so much, she could feel the weight of anxiety settling in her chest. Then she spotted the slate-blue-and-white Queen Anne style two-story.

      Her heart pounded against her rib cage. How could she do this? Set foot inside his house? Not her mother’s, not one they’d purchased together, but the house Roger had grown up in, according to her mother.

      You’re simply going to visit your mother.

      She drew in a deep breath. That was right. Maybe he wouldn’t even be there. She eyed the white wicker chairs and love seat on the porch. Perhaps she wouldn’t even have to go inside.

      Picking up the pace, she marched up the front walk, climbed the two white wooden steps and rang the doorbell.

      A minute later, the door swung open, and Roger stood before her. His silver hair still had that tousled appearance, and the medium blue Henley he wore seemed to match the color of his eyes. If he were anyone else, she’d think him a fairly handsome man.

      “Grace!” Though his smile was quick, his brow puckered in confusion as he pushed open the screen door. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow. Come on in.”

      The aroma of lavender and vanilla wafted outside, stirring fond memories of every military house Grace had ever lived in. No matter where in the world they were, Mama’s favorite fragrance made it feel like home.

      Shaking off the recollection, she kept her feet planted on the porch. “Um...is my mother here?”

      “’Fraid not. They’re having a VBS planning meeting at the church tonight.”

      Of course, her mother would be there. She had taken an active role in every vacation Bible school at every church they’d ever attended.

      Apparently her love for Grace’s father was the only thing that didn’t transcend time.

      Roger held the door wider. “You’re welcome to come in and wait on her, though.”

      “No. Thank you.” Grace squared her shoulders. “I hear you’re a guide at Mountain View Tours.”

      “Going into my fourth year.”

      She nodded. “And nobody felt the need to share this information with me?”

      He moved out onto the porch in his white sock feet. “We weren’t trying to deceive you, Grace. We were afraid that if you knew I worked there, too, you might not come. Your mother’s looking forward to seeing you.”

      Looking everywhere but at Roger—the wooden floorboards, the neighbor’s house, the hanging flower basket swaying in the breeze—Grace fought to keep her breathing even as the words seeped in. While her knee-jerk reaction was to reject the notion, she knew deep inside that Roger was probably right.

      “In that case—” she started down the steps “—I guess I’ll see you around. Tell my mother I stopped by.”

      “I’ll do that. And, Grace?”

      As much as she hated to, she halted her retreat and turned.

      “You’re welcome here anytime.” His smile was sincere, the lines around his eyes indicating it was something he did a lot.

      Maybe Lucy was right. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. But Grace wouldn’t betray her father.

      Her gaze drifted to the ground before bouncing back to Roger. “Good night.”

      She moved down the street at a much faster pace than when she’d arrived, ready to put this day behind her. Despite her long sleeves, the cool evening air sent chill bumps skittering down her arms, making her wish she’d brought her jacket. All she wanted to do now was get back to her camp, crawl into bed and hope tomorrow wasn’t as convoluted as today.

      Coming to Ouray was supposed to rejuvenate her. Instead, it felt more like a chore. That cruise ship was sounding better and better all the time.

      Rubbing her arms, she surveyed the surrounding mountains. Though the town lay bathed in shadows, the sun’s fading rays radiated from behind the western slope. Glancing eastward, her breath caught in her throat. The gray, volcanic-looking mountains that seemed to hug the town were now painted the most beautiful, yet indescribable color. Shades of orange, rose and yellow blended into one harmonious hue that was unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

      “Grace?”

      Turning, she saw Kaleb coming up the block. Couldn’t she go anywhere in this town without running into him?

      Gravel crunched beneath each step as he continued toward her, looking annoyingly handsome. “Enjoying the alpenglow?”

      “The what?”

      Hands on his hips, he nodded in the direction of the colorful mountain. “Alpenglow. It’s a phenomenon that often happens this time of night.”

      She readily focused on nature’s beauty. “What causes it?”

      He shrugged. “Something about the sun reflecting off particles in the atmosphere. I tend not to question it. I simply enjoy it.”

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