Jami concentrated on finishing her dinner, though everything tasted like sawdust. Pretending she didn’t care about Grant Carrington proved difficult. Their vacation was ending. Their relationship already had ended—so much for CupidKey finding her perfect match. Jami tightened her resolve as she pushed away from the table. Mr. Right had turned out to be Mr. Wrong.
Having escaped the scrutiny of her dinner companions, Jami was upstairs in the bedroom packing their bags when she heard a commotion in the hallway. She ran through the suite and threw open the door as Toby’s footsteps thundered toward her.
He came racing down the corridor, hollering, “Mom! Mom!”
A door across the hall whipped open, and Raven McGuire stepped out. “What’s wrong? A fire? What?”
Raven wore a towel to cover the neck of a silver cocktail dress, her black hair stood out in ratted clumps, and her face was devoid of make-up. Her lips were nearly as pale as her alabaster skin, making her blood-red nails the only color she wore.
“A witch!” Toby cried, screeching to a halt in front of the young widow. “I knew you were a witch.” Acting frightened as a kitten being chased by a werewolf, the child backed away, then scooted toward Jami. “See her eyes, Mom. She is a witch!”
“Oh, drat,” Raven gasped, one hand flying to her hair, the other to her eyes. “My contacts! Where’s the other lens?”
“I’m sorry.” Jami gasped, unable to ignore Raven’s one startling violet eye and the other natural gray eye.
“Is there a fire or something?” Raven snapped, stepping back through her own doorway.
“Is there?” Jami shot a questioning glance at Toby, while dragging her frozen son into the suite.
“Nope.” He stared, hypnotized by the widow’s Halloween appearance.
“You rotten monster,” Raven huffed, slamming her door.
The moment Raven’s door closed, Toby whirled around to face Jami. “Mom, you’ve got to help Grant! A bear attacked him. A big bear! Come quick!” Toby broke into a run, heading back down the corridor.
“Where?” Jami called as she wasted no time catching up to her son. “When? Is Grant hurt?”
Toby slowed slightly, panting. “Grant’s at the place where he made my boat. He was making another one when a grizzly attacked him. Hurry!”
“You call for help and get the others,” Jami instructed her son, delaying to take hold of Toby’s shoulders. “I’ll find Grant on my own.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Get help.”
Jami dashed downstairs and through the lodge, wishing she’d thought to ask Toby more questions. Was the bear still attacking Grant? How badly was he wounded? And where were Dottie and Doris?
Outside, the world appeared serene and peaceful, warring with the panic driving Jami. Slanting sunshine and lengthening evening shadows sculpted the mountainside, majestic blue spruce and lodgepole pines towered over breeze-ruffled aspens and scrub oaks. Wallflowers and pine scented the crisp thin air as a chorus of crickets and songbirds mocked the threat of danger.
Filled with urgency, Jami hit the trail in a run, pausing only long enough to snag a heavy branch from the ground and grab two rocks. Maybe not the best weapons against an angry bear, but something.
Racing to Grant’s rescue, Jami realized how deeply it shook her that he was in danger. Her heart had told her to trust him, but she’d been too stubborn. Didn’t she owe Grant the chance to prove that he wasn’t the womanizer she believed? He had to be safe! She loved the man. She couldn’t lose him.
Silently praying for his protection, Jami admitted to herself that Grant was the only man for her. She couldn’t envision a future without him. And she would not hesitate to face a crazed grizzly to save him.
She stumbled over a brittle root, snapping it in half. Noise. Jami remembered that wild animals were often frightened off by loud noises. If that bear was still around, it would hear some screaming, she guaranteed it.
As Jami approached the lake, she saw Grant sitting on a boulder with his back to her and his head in his hands. He was alive! Her heart burst into song and she nearly did, too. But what if he was still under attack and not moving on purpose? Jami’s gaze darted back and forth, fear bubbling through her.
Where was that bear?
Jami charged down the trail, brandishing her stick and whooping bloody murder so loud it hurt her own ears.
A knife and wood chunk plopped onto the ground as Grant leapt off the boulder, spinning around to face Jami. “Whoa, Red!” His arm whipped upward to ward off a