The Man from Montana
Auteur·e
Julianna Morris
Lectures
15,1K
Chapitres
16
CHAPTER ONE
TESSA ALDERMAN PARKED in the Carson Outdoor Adventures lot and gazed at the rolling hills and snowy mountains beyond. It was so beautiful, she wished a vacation was the only reason she was in Montana.
She flipped down the SUV’s sun visor and felt the familiar drop in her stomach at seeing her twin sister’s picture, which she’d taped next to the mirror.
Renee.
A selfie, taken a few weeks before her death, with a defiant, almost angry look in her dark eyes. But why those particular emotions? Her divorce had been long over and she’d received a cash settlement from her ex, outside of the community-property division. She’d been published. On top of that, she’d just become an associate professor in Renaissance and Gothic art at the private college where she taught, so her career had been on track. Brilliantly on track, as a matter of fact—she’d been the youngest professor in the college’s history.
Then suddenly, Renee had taken a leave of absence and left for an extended vacation in Montana, which was strange, because she’d never liked to travel. Just as strange, the college had believed she was in Europe, doing research to finish her second book. It was the only reason they’d allowed her to take the time when she was so new to her professorship.
Tessa pushed the visor back up and squared her shoulders. She’d searched for answers at Renee’s apartment when she and her parents had cleared it out, wanting to understand what had happened and why, yet she’d just ended up with more questions.
Now, Montana was the only place left to search, and Tessa was afraid there wouldn’t be any answers here, either.
A hotel courtesy van arrived as she got out. Six passengers disembarked and took backpacks from the cargo area. Tessa retrieved her own pack and gauged the weight. According to the information on the Carson Adventures website, a few pounds of food and equipment would be distributed to each person going on the trip. But that wouldn’t be a problem; she’d gone on many hikes in the past that required much heavier packs.
“Hello,” called a man’s voice. “Welcome to the Carson Outdoor Adventures Ranch. I’m Clay. Presuming you’re here for the four-day wilderness hike, I’ll be your guide.”
Tessa gave him a long look.
So that was Clay Carson, owner of the company and the man her twin had supposedly been dating on her extended vacation. He’d also been the guide on the rafting trip when Renee had died.
He was striking, with a strong bone structure, piercing gray eyes and dark brown hair. The image of a rugged outdoorsman. It was easy to see why her twin sister would have been attracted to him, less easy to understand how a woman as shy as Renee would have caught his notice.
Tessa sighed. She missed her sister terribly. Though not identical twins, they had been close, or at least she’d believed they were close until Renee had suddenly left Arizona and started participating in high-risk sports, sending bright little group emails to the family about everything she was doing. It didn’t make sense. As a kid she wouldn’t even jump off a high dive or go horseback riding, so how had she ended up dying in a whitewater rafting accident?
The others members of the group introduced themselves to Clay, and when Tessa didn’t step immediately forward, he turned toward her with an inquiring expression.
“Are you part of my group?” he asked.
“Yes. Tessa Alderman.”
Clay gave her a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Tessa. Everyone, let’s head over to the staging barn. We’ll go over your gear, discuss the guidelines, sign the paperwork and divide up the food and common equipment. Then a company van will take us to the trailhead and you’ll have the next four days to enjoy an incredible wilderness area.”
Though Tessa had mostly backpacked with friends and youth groups, she’d taken a few guided trips and knew the first order of business was getting the liability releases properly signed. But they’d also want to be sure everyone had brought the basics listed on the website.
“Do I really need the tent?” she asked when Clay reached her. She’d laid everything from her pack on the table. The other women had kept their personal items out of sight, but Tessa refused to be coy about the scraps of underwear she’d stowed in ziplock plastic bags.
“I’m afraid so.” A hint of a frown creased his brow. “You’re from Tucson, Arizona, right?”
She tensed. Tessa wasn’t keeping her relationship to Renee a secret...exactly, but she also wasn’t advertising it. However close, they’d been as different as two sisters could be. Not only that, Renee had kept her married name after getting divorced, so it seemed unlikely that Clay Carson would make the connection based on the city where they’d both lived. Actually, not even the same city, since Renee’s apartment had been in a little community outside Tucson.
Also, the accident had happened almost eight months ago. Tessa’s parents hadn’t brought a lawsuit against the company, so unless Clay Carson had been serious about Renee, he’d probably put it in the past. But it wasn’t in the past for her family; Renee’s death was a wound that refused to heal.
“I was born and raised in Arizona,” Tessa said, pushing the thought to the back of her mind. “The main reason I use a tent in the Southwest is to keep scorpions out, and they aren’t too common here, right?”
“That’s right, but the weather can change quickly in this part of the world, so you’ll need to bring it. Is the extra weight a problem?”
“No, I just wondered.” Tessa enjoyed camping and hiking, but she was careful. If a local guide told her a tent was advisable, she’d go along.
She’d researched Carson Outdoor Adventures and their safety record was excellent. Even when she’d called the sheriff’s office to ask about Renee’s accident, she had been assured there was nothing to suggest the guides or equipment were in any way to blame. To the contrary, the guides had gone above and beyond in the effort to rescue her. Yet, however nicely he’d expressed his sympathies, the sheriff’s responses had seemed guarded, as if he was holding something back. So maybe her next step would be requesting a copy of the report.
Surely she was entitled to see it as a member of the family.
CLAY ASSESSED HIS current group with a practiced eye.
The three couples had readily admitted they were new to backpacking. A few ounces here and there added up to pounds, so he’d recommended leaving various items behind in the lockers he provided for situations like this. They were cooperating. Nobody was allowed to dispose of anything on the trail, so except for food being eaten, if an item started out with a hiker, it stayed with the hiker.
As for Tessa Alderman?
She was a question mark. Her backpack seemed new, but her sleeping bag and tent had seen heavy use and she hadn’t brought more clothes and supplies than she needed, which suggested she was an experienced backpacker.
His biggest concern was her looks; two of the wives were already eyeing her with a hint of wariness. Having a striking single woman on a trip with couples had caused tension in the past, but other than giving a cordial nod to the others, she seemed to be keeping to herself.
“Rrrf,” barked his golden retriever, reminding Clay that he needed to find out if she could go along on the hike.
“Everyone,” he called to get the group’s attention. “This is Molly. If you’re allergic to dogs or have another concern for any reason, feel free to let me know and she’ll stay at the ranch, spoiled rotten by my aunt and uncle. They’ll love you for it, so if you have any hesitation, speak up. I will say that she carries her own food, water, bowls and other supplies in a doggy backpack, so no worries there. She even has her own bear bag.”
Laughter came from the group. “She’s okay with me,” one of them said, and the rest agreed with pleased smiles. As a rule, Molly was popular with his clients, especially first-timers who felt more comfortable going into the backcountry with a dog.
It was a good time to talk about encounters with predators, so Clay did a quick review of how to respond if a bear or other animal crossed their path.
One of the women shifted her weight from one foot to the other as he finished, looking nervous. “How often does that happen? I know bear attacks are rare, but what about wolves and mountain lions?”
“Hey, I’d love to see a wolf,” her husband said. She dug an elbow into his side. “From a distance,” he added hastily. “But don’t worry, hon, you can run a lot faster than me.”
Clay waited until the chuckles had died down. “Actually, as I mentioned, running generally isn’t the best response.” He gestured to the can attached to his belt. “This is bear spray, and I carry a backup can, as well. Groups are safest out there because we talk and make more noise, which alerts animals to our presence. But I’ve never had a problem, even with all the times I’ve gone out alone. I’m not saying that nothing can happen, but the truth is, most wild animals are shy of humans. Especially wolves. We just need to keep a close watch. If we see any predators, it will likely be from a distance.”
“Zz-z-zro-o-o-om, zoom,” a child’s voice interrupted and Clay looked up to see his three-year-old nephew run into the barn.
“Whoa, pal.” Clay grabbed him before he could careen into one of the guests. “What are you doing out here?”
“He wanted to give one of his pictures to Uncle Lee and now he’s running away from a bath,” Aunt Emma said breathlessly. “Derry, you little scamp, you’re covered in finger paint.”
Derry giggled as Clay swung him high in the air and into Emma’s arms. She and Uncle Lee had moved here to help his brother with Derry. Having more family on the ranch was great, though he felt bad for Andrew, who’d never expected to be raising a child alone. Clay did what he could, but Aunt Emma was the real lifesaver.
“Sorry for the interruption,” Aunt Emma apologized to the group. “We’re going, Derry. Tell everyone goodbye.”
“Bye-bye,” Derry said over her shoulder, waving his little hand.
He received waves and a chorus of “byes” in return.
Clay grinned at his clients when they were alone again. “All right, let’s divide the food and common equipment and get going. When you repack everything, be sure to put the heavy items at the bottom so the weight rides on your hips. Like this.”
He demonstrated with the contents of his own pack. They set to work and were soon returning to the parking lot.
Uncle Lee met them at the large passenger van. He’d become one of Clay’s drivers, delivering groups to trailheads and picking them up. After thirty years in the US Navy he didn’t like being idle, so in between he supervised the kitchen staff as they prepped for the backpack trips and the evening ranch barbecue, which were part of several afternoon day hikes and horseback rides. Aunt Emma helped, too, though Derry kept her pretty busy.
“I see our Derry has marked you,” Uncle Lee said, grinning.
Clay shrugged at the finger paint, which had rubbed off on his sleeve, and the small, faint handprint on the front of his shirt.
He noticed that Tessa sat in the back of the van with Molly next to her. Molly often had her favorite guest on a hike, and today it seemed that she’d picked Tessa Alderman.
It was interesting. Not that Clay disliked Tessa—they’d barely met—but there was an expression in her cool blue gaze that he didn’t understand. At least she hadn’t fought him on the question of bringing her tent along. Tents weren’t optional at any time.
They ate an early lunch at the trailhead, then Clay gathered the group together and went over the remaining rules.
“I know I’m repeating what’s on our website,” he explained, “but this is a protected wilderness and Carson Outdoor Adventures is committed to being ecofriendly. So don’t discard any wrappers or other items. We take our trash out with us, and anything with a scent, even something like soap or toothpaste, needs to be placed in bear bags and suspended in the air at night. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of getting it up there. Let’s go.”
Clay took the lead.
Though Tessa Alderman didn’t have a hiking partner, she didn’t try to stay with him. Instead, she remained at the rear of the group with Molly, who he’d carefully trained to be voice-command obedient. At regular intervals, he stopped and talked about the sights they were seeing or to answer questions. It helped him assess how the group was doing without being too obvious, and gave individuals who were less fit an opportunity to rest.
He hadn’t made up his mind about Tessa. She seemed watchful, reminding him of the corporate representative who’d come out to evaluate Carson Outdoor Adventures. Gunther Computer Systems had been interested in a long-term contract to send their executives on backcountry retreats, but they’d pulled out of negotiations following the rafting accident the previous September.
On the other hand, maybe it was just wishful thinking to wonder if they were interested again. Still, they hadn’t completely shut the door on doing business with him, even saying they’d look into it again “next year.”
Clay let out a harsh breath.
The worst part was that he felt responsible for the accident. He’d run it over and over in his mind, trying to think of what else he could have done.
There had been other problems since, including from the insurance company, which was still doing spot audits of his liability releases. They’d just done an audit, in fact. It frustrated Clay, and yet how could he blame anyone for wanting to be sure that he and his company were good risks?
“What’s that?” asked Ginny, breaking into his thoughts. She was the guest who was especially nervous of large predators. They were at a promontory and she was pointing at something a hundred feet below in a small meadow.
Clay admired Ginny’s willingness to try something new, despite her fears. Truth be told, he’d rather have someone who was cautious and watchful, than a guest who was cockily certain nothing could happen to them. But he also didn’t want her to be so afraid she didn’t enjoy the trip.
“Good eyes, Ginny,” he said approvingly. “That’s an elk. You can take a closer look through my binoculars.”
He showed her how to adjust the lenses and glanced around the group. Everyone was looking down the slope, except Tessa, whose gaze was fixed on him.
It wasn’t feminine awareness—it was something else. He just didn’t know what.
Clay returned his focus to the other guests as they continued on. Ginny and her husband had sometimes stayed close behind him, other times dropping back to talk with the other couples when the trail was wide enough. For the last hour the three husbands had been engaged in a lively discussion about renewable energy production.
They were an interesting group and he tried to dismiss his other concerns. It was only right for them to receive his full attention.
THAT EVENING TESSA decided one of the nice things about taking a commercially guided trip was having someone else cook.
The couples erected their tents with Clay’s assistance and then he began preparing dinner. He chose a spot that was well away from the campsite, which was standard practice in wilderness areas, because the odors from cooking could attract scavenging bears. The air turned crisp as the sun dropped lower in the sky and jackets were pulled out.
Tessa put up her own tent, though she would have preferred sleeping in the open. Her sleeping bag was rated to five degrees Fahrenheit, so warmth wasn’t a problem. On the other hand, tents provided some privacy, and dressing and undressing inside a sleeping bag were overrated activities.
Across the clearing, the woman who’d mentioned wolves was surreptitiously rubbing her neck. In a way she reminded Tessa of Renee and she couldn’t resist going over.
“Hey, I’m Tessa. You’re Ginny, right? Is there a problem?” she asked softly.
Ginny bit her lip and looked ready to cry. “The straps rubbed my neck all day and my shoulders hurt. Please don’t tell anyone. My husband and I have talked about doing this for years and I don’t want to spoil it for him.”
“Try loosening the strap across your chest tomorrow,” Tessa suggested. “That should help your neck. And I noticed you moved the contents of your pack around at one of our early stops. Did you leave the heavier items at the bottom?”
Ginny sighed. “Probably not. I was looking for something and in a hurry to put everything back. I never realized there was so much to know about backpacking.”
“It’ll get easier. I promise.”
“I hope so. My husband and I worked hard to retire early. We wanted to be young enough to still do this kind of thing, and now I’m worried about every rustle in the leaves.”
Tessa gave her a reassuring smile. “Give yourself a break, this is new to you. It’s natural to be leery. But I’ve been backpacking and camping since I was a small kid and never had any trouble with animals. Well, except for the raccoon who peed on my head. It was up a tree.”
Ginny giggled and relaxed. “Oh, dear. I don’t think I’ll sit under any trees.”
“I didn’t for a long time afterward. You’ll be fine, Ginny. Honestly.”
“Thanks. Um, is it okay if I hike with you tomorrow? My husband keeps debating stuff with the other two guys and their wives are getting chummy, talking about kids.”
“Sure, I’d like that.”
Just then Clay called everyone over to eat and somehow Tessa ended up sitting on a log next to him, so close she could feel the heat from his body.
The food was surprisingly tasty—mild chicken enchiladas prepared in a skillet, loaded with melted cheese and a salad on the side. Not gourmet cooking, but considerably better than freeze-dried beef stew, which was what she’d expected, despite claims on the Carson Outdoor Adventures website about quality meals. Dried red-pepper flakes had been included in the supplies as a seasoning, so she spiced her meal with a liberal sprinkling.
“I never thought a backpack meal could taste this good,” one of the women declared.
Clay grinned comfortably. “I can’t claim all the credit. My uncle used to be in charge of food prep on a navy aircraft carrier. Now that he’s retired, he runs our in-house kitchen, which supports the guides with their cooking efforts. Uncle Lee is the one who drove us to the trailhead.”
“Was that your little boy who came into the barn?” Tessa asked when the conversation lagged, though she’d planned to watch Clay from a distance to get a sense of him. Following this trip, she was going to schedule a rafting tour where he was the guide and then go from there.
Okay, it wasn’t the best plan, but it was a work in progress.
“That was my nephew. Derry is a great kid.”
Tessa glanced at him. It was a mark in Clay’s favor that he didn’t seem self-conscious about the handprint his nephew had left on his chest, or the colorful streaks on his sleeve.
“You all live on the Carson Outdoor Adventures Ranch?”
“Officially it’s the Carson Double C. But yeah, we all live there, along with a few wranglers and guides in the bunkhouse.”
“Must be a big bunkhouse.”
“Actually, there are two for crew quarters, along with a couple of homes on the property. I bought the ranch several years ago when I wanted to expand to horseback riding trips. Do you ride?”
“Since before I can remember. I love horses. They’re remarkable animals. My grandparents have a boarding stable in the desert outside Tucson.”
Clay nodded and got up to refill his coffee cup. “Anyone else?” he asked. “It’s still a bit warm. I make decaf in the evening, so it shouldn’t keep you awake.”
Ginny’s husband yawned. “Doesn’t matter. Pour away. After today’s hike, nothing will keep me awake.”
A couple of the others accepted, as well, and the group chatted for another hour. Tessa thought about offering to help when Clay went to deal with the dishes, but there was something almost intimate about doing cleanup with another person. She and her mom talked about everything under the sun when they were cleaning the kitchen. The same with her dad.
But right now it was all Tessa could do not to ask Clay outright about Renee, and it was the wrong time and place for those questions.
Would it have made a difference if he’d come to the memorial service? Perhaps. They wanted to believe Renee had been in a good relationship before her death, but his absence seemed to contradict that. Or maybe not. The world was changing. Quite a few people were opting out of traditional rites, believing they didn’t help. In all honesty, Tessa didn’t think the memorial service had given her closure any more than it had for the family. It was just a lot of words that were supposed to be comforting, yet left them wondering how well they’d known Renee, after all.
And wondering if they’d failed her.
The thought occupied Tessa over the next couple of days, though hiking with Ginny was a helpful distraction. Ginny became less concerned about wild animals as the trip progressed and proved to have a fun sense of humor.
For the most part Tessa avoided any additional conversations with Clay and tried not to participate in group discussions where he was actively involved. So it was a surprise when he came over on the third afternoon as she splashed her face with water from a stream.
“I need to ask you something,” he said, crouching to dip a hand in the current, too.
Her nerves went on alert. “Oh?”
“Are you from Gunther Computer Systems?”
She blinked. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Sorry, it’s just the way you’re acting. I’ve dealt with a wide variety of clients since starting my business, and you don’t seem especially interested in the scenery or the wilderness backpacking experience. You also didn’t bring a camera and haven’t taken any pictures with a phone. Gunther sent someone out last summer who behaved similarly. She was acting as a scout for the company—like a headhunter, except for executive retreat locations.”
Tessa tried not to wince.
Normally she would have been thrilled to take a trip like this. She picked a different vacation destination each November and loved the adventure of seeing a new place and trying new things. She’d gone scuba diving in the Bahamas eighteen months ago, but hadn’t been anywhere since.
She thought fast, trying to come up with a believable reason for everything. So much for thinking she’d been discreet, or maybe Clay was just too observant.
“The thing is, I thought some of the outdoor adventure companies around here might be hiring seasonal employees,” she said. “Taking this trip was an unconventional way of demonstrating I have the right outdoor skills. Sort of a job interview. I want to spend more time in Montana, but to do that, I need to find work. While I have some savings, I don’t want to wipe them out entirely.”
The skepticism grew on Clay’s face. “Other jobs are available in the area, especially during the summer, when we get more tourists. Why go to these lengths?”
“A good number of seasonal positions are for restaurant servers, which doesn’t appeal to me. My résumé is limited. I’m a landscape architect as well as a restoration specialist for swimming pools—you know, where the minerals have built up or there’s algae or rust stains and that kind of thing. Unfortunately, while you have swimming pools here, it’s nothing like Tucson. I doubt there’s much need in Elk Point or Kalispell for my particular knowledge.”
Tessa hated prevaricating, though most of what she’d said was true. Her father’s construction business specialized in building swimming pools, and people also hired them to restore and repair their old pools. Both restoration and doing sustainable poolside landscaping were her specialties. She’d even thought about starting her own business before losing her twin.
It was one of the last things she and Renee had talked about.
CLAY NARROWED HIS EYES, not entirely sure he believed Tessa. On the other hand, there weren’t many swimming pools in northern Montana compared to places famous for their hot, dry weather. Maybe he’d wanted her to be a representative from Gunther Computer Systems because it meant his reputation was recovering.
Molly let out a small “rff” and he rubbed her neck. She’d begun sharing her time between the guests, but still had a preference for Tessa.
“I don’t have any openings for guides, though I need someone in the office for a few months,” he told Tessa. “No promises, but after we get back, give me the information I need for a background check, along with a couple of references, and I’ll consider hiring you on a trial basis.”
“Thanks.”
While Tessa’s quick smile reminded him of someone, he couldn’t place the memory. But it didn’t matter—if she did okay in the office, he’d save time looking for someone.
And these days, time was a valuable commodity.
