this—they’re giving us asking price!”
Grace never dreamed they’d get asking price. “That’s great. That’s awesome.”
“I need to read through the details, and of course we’ll need to hire a lawyer to review it.”
“How long will all this take? I can put an offer in on the house now.” The sellers hadn’t been willing to tie up the sale with a contingency offer until the Bennetts at least had an offer on the inn.
“I’m not sure. But you should probably make that offer soon. I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”
“I’ll text Pamela right now.”
Grace got an immediate and enthusiastic response. Pamela suggested they meet at the coffee shop at three o’clock to write it up. Grace paused.
Molly was still chattering about the offer.
Wyatt entered the lobby, carrying his pack. “You got an offer on the inn?”
Grace turned to him, smiling. “Asking price, can you believe it?”
“That’s great. You should call your Realtor and get an offer in.”
“I texted her and she can meet at three, but . . .”
He squeezed her arm. “Grace. Tell her yes. We can hike later. You don’t want to miss out on that property.”
She nearly melted at the concern on his face. “Are you sure?”
“I can go on my own today.”
“He’s right,” Molly said. “And I’ll send Levi a message.”
Grace widened her smile at Wyatt. “All right. But let’s plan on a long day of hiking Thursday.”
“You’re on.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Grace and Wyatt had been hiking for hours. Wyatt set the pace, walking in front of her, holding back limbs and helping her over fallen trees. The smell of decayed earth filled her nostrils, and fallen leaves softened their footfalls. Lost Creek rippled past them, its wide body narrowing as they went higher into the mountains.
The day was sunny and in the low seventies, and under the leafy treetops, it was several degrees cooler. October had ushered in the beginning of fall in the mountains surrounding Bluebell. The trees had already begun turning in the higher elevations. Soon that color would trickle downhill until the entire valley was a riot of color, stretched out beneath the autumn skies and reflected in the glassy waters of Bluebell Lake.
Next year this time Grace would be running Blue Ridge Outfitters out of her own building—the owners had accepted her offer yesterday. Grace had been so eager to buy the little house there’d been little room for panic. But that had set in soon after the call from Pamela.
What if the business couldn’t survive outside the inn? What if she fell flat on her face? She’d do anything to keep that from happening, to her own detriment, she knew. Look at how demanding she’d been of herself in high school from academics to athletics! She’d insisted on perfection and continually fell short, which led to her berating herself. The old adage “Aim for perfection, settle for excellence” sounded great, but she’d found she couldn’t quite accept the second part of the phrase. She would have to work on that. Perfection was unattainable and striving for it was exhausting.
As they climbed, the deciduous trees gradually gave way to evergreens. Wyatt had grown quiet, but so had she. The uphill climb stole her breath as even the minor change in altitude affected air pressure.
Wyatt had taught her more self-defense moves yesterday at Jim’s Gym, and she used the hiking time to mentally rehearse them. The ground began leveling off a bit, allowing Grace to catch her breath. It was about time for a break. It was late afternoon, and her rumbling stomach notified her that she’d worked off the apple and nuts they’d eaten a few hours ago.
A movement in the sky drew her attention to a red-tailed hawk, soaring over the treetops. They’d seen all manner of wildlife today: a bullfrog, a deer, a groundhog, to say nothing of the numerous squirrels and songbirds.
She was still searching the sky when she crashed into Wyatt, who’d stopped without warning.
“Whoa there,” she said after she’d found her balance again. “Forget your blinker, mister?”
Wyatt was still as a stone, staring into the distance.
Her first thought was that they’d stumbled upon a bear, but she didn’t see any animal, and his hands were hanging loose at his sides, not reaching for his gun.
“Wyatt?”
Her eyes caught on a small waterfall just ahead. About fifty yards beyond it a stack of boulders reached for the sky. Was this the spot he’d been searching for? A quick scan of the area turned up a hilly plateau replete with towering