Teagan pulled her truck into the Kartchner Caverns State Park campground at dusk on Thursday evening. Her brain hurt and her body ached from the long drive. She probably should have divided the trip into two days instead of subjecting herself to such a long haul, but she had no interest in extending her time in the southwest desert. Meeting readers at comic con was one thing, staring at endless brown landscapes dotted with sagebrush and creosote bushes was quite another.

Especially now, when Colorado was so beautiful, not too hot and not too cold, and the foothills were green and dotted with wildflowers. But the dark, literary side of her thought it was fitting that she would spend a few days in the lifeless, drab desert. That’s how she’d felt for the last few months, since the “incident.” She hid a lot of it from her friends, not wanting them to look at her with pitying eyes. But the hangover still lingered, and she hoped a summer of fun in the Rockies would cure her. It had always cured her suffering in the past.

When she found her campsite and got out of her truck, an intense heat consumed her. Welcome to the Sonoran Desert in late May, she thought, where daytime highs easily reached the triple digits. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky to protect a cold-weather girl like herself from the scorching sun. A few “but it’s a dry heat” jokes ran through her mind. She chuckled; she’d have to save them for future books. Some claimed that the dry heat seemed less hot, but Teagan didn’t agree. To her, dry heat felt hotter, even if it lacked the stifling discomfort of a summer day in the Midwest or the South.

She grabbed her toiletries and headed to the campground restroom. Once she reached the shade, the temperature felt much more comfortable. When she checked her watch, she realized why. The campground stood at 4,800 feet above sea level, more than 2,000 feet higher than Tucson. Maybe she would sleep without roasting to death after all. Feeling grimy from her long drive, she took a quick shower and changed clothes. By the time she finished, the sun had set.

Ben told her she was nuts to camp. Most Coloradans moaned and groaned anytime the temperature rose above 85 degrees. In Colorado, she and her outdoorsy friends worried about cold, not heat. But given her woeful financial situation, camping was the only way she could afford to attend the convention.

An hour later, Teagan sat in her collapsible chair under the desert sky, her feet resting on the built-in footrest as she sipped a silver margarita on ice. She may be stuck camping in the desert heat, but she’d be damned if she’d go without the little pleasures. Intense heat aside, the dry air and remote mountain locale made for decent stargazing. The Big Dipper. The North Star. The W of Cassiopeia. A hint of Scorpio to the south. How much more she’d see later that weekend, when she drove up Mount Lemmon with her telescope.

As a child, she’d loved the sky, especially at night when stars appeared from what seemed like nowhere. It was her Grandpa Larry who first showed her a telescope. He explained that the stars didn’t just appear, but were always there, even during the day when she couldn’t see them. He showed her the moon, Jupiter and its moons, and the rings of Saturn, and he explained that Earth, as big as it was, existed only as a tiny grain of sand among a sea of sand dunes. That’s where Teagan’s love of science, and science fiction, began.

She’d grown up reading Madeleine L’Engle, Tolkien, and even Heinlein when she got a little older. Her parents hadn’t understood her at all; Teagan’s father only read nonfiction, and her mother, an English teacher, preferred literary fiction and never approved of Teagan’s “genre” books. Her parents hadn’t understood comic con, either, that geeks and nerds alike needed to gather in one place and share in their nerd-dom. Her father had quipped more than once that Teagan was the mailman’s kid. There were times when she’d thought the same thing.

Her margarita drained and her eyes tired, Teagan crawled inside the back of her truck. With a topper, a hunk of particle board creating a raised bed frame over the wheel wells, and a layer of thick memory foam over that, she had a comfy place to sleep and could stow all her books and belongings underneath. She opened her windows to let the air circulate, and gave a big sigh.

When she grabbed her phone and checked her email, all she’d gotten was a message from a student complaining that his grade wasn’t as high as it should have been.

Teagan rolled her eyes. “That’s what happens when you don’t show up to class, dumbass.”

Go to sleep. Tomorrow’s a busy day.

The next morning, the Arizona sun was already ablaze as Teagan slathered on sunscreen and put on a hat. She glanced around the campground, surprised by the number of campers and RVs visiting the area, even at that time of year. It was six in the morning and the temperature was comfortable. After filling her hydration pack with water and slipping it on, she stowed her key in her shorts pocket and walked to the trailhead.

Golden soil. A vivid blue sky. No flowers, though. It was too late in the season for that. When she spotted all the spiny succulents and silver-leafed shrubs, she recalled Grandpa Larry explaining how desert plants had evolved to survive in hot, low-water conditions. Her father had always found her grandpa’s scientific tidbits tedious, but Teagan loved them. Yet, as she grew older, she too learned that others didn’t always share her fascination with science and had learned to keep her curiosity quiet.

As she reached the main trail and began the hiking loop, she spotted another hiker ahead. A man. She hesitated for a moment. Growing up, her parents told her scary stories about women hiking alone. And although she’d never had any trouble in all her years of hiking the Four Corners states, wandering the trails with a strange man demanded caution, especially with no one else around. But then a smallish brown and white dog sauntered just ahead of him. Somehow, a man with a cute dog seemed less threatening.

Teagan hiked up the switchbacks of the steep hill. Despite her brisk pace, she never caught up to the guy and his dog. She was already sweating and had gone through several gulps of water, but the early morning breeze refreshed her and she already felt better after a handful of crappy days. Plus, the higher she went, the more amazing the views.

When she reached the loop’s highest point, it gave her a nearly 360-degree vista. It didn’t come close to matching the view from the top of a 13,000-foot peak in Colorado, but there was something about the vastness of the desert that impressed her. Suddenly, she wished Grandpa Larry were there, sharing it with her, offering up a factoid or two about the geology or plant life.

She continued on. After almost 90 minutes, it was already getting pretty hot and she looked forward to a cool shower. Once she reached the trailhead, the guy she’d seen stood near a white, full-sized Chevy truck, his muscular arms crossed in front of him. He stood with perfect posture, his chin up other than to glance down at his dog, who lapped up water from a nylon collapsable bowl. He wore a baseball hat and sunglasses, but she could see his blond, tightly cut hair. Definitely military. Teagan tried avoid staring, but it wasn’t easy. Not with those arms and that masculine confidence.

He wore a shirt that said “Army.” He was probably stationed at Fort Huachuca, just a few miles down the road. He glanced over at her, offering only a tiny nod before he drank from his water bottle and checked his watch.

Realizing someone else had arrived, Army Dude’s dog looked up from his water bowl and eyed her. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw how much he looked like Harry. She smiled at him and said hello, and he immediately ran over to her.

“Patton!” came a deep, commanding voice.

The dog ignored the command, as did Teagan. “Hey, buddy!” She kneeled and petted his smooth fur as his tail wagged wildly. He could be Harry’s younger brother.

She heard a sharp whistle. “Patton!” came the order again, louder this time. Patton hesitated for just a moment before scampering back. Army Dude leashed him, muttering something mildly chastising as Patton resumed lapping up his water.

Teagan grinned. “Patton, huh? Is he a four-star general, too?” She hoped Mr. Serious would appreciate her attempt at humor. But he didn’t. Not even a tiny smile.

“My wife—ex-wife—named him,” he said. “Wouldn’t have been my choice.”

“At least you got him in the divorce.”

“True.” He bent down to give Patton a vigorous petting and poured more water into his bowl.

“He’s very cute. I once had a dog who looked just like him.”

“He’s a good boy.” Even though he wore sunglasses, she could see him look her up and down. “Did you have a good hike?”

“I did. It’s a lot hotter than what I’m used to, but a sweaty hike is better than no hike.”

“Where are you from?”

“Denver.”

He nodded. “I like Colorado. I have a friend in Colorado Springs, in the Air Force.” When Patton finished drinking and sauntered toward Teagan again, his leash stopped him. Army Dude reluctantly let it go and she kneeled down to scratch Patton’s ears. “You’re such a sweetie,” she cooed to him. “Yes you are.” She glanced at her watch.

“Patton,” came the command again. “Time to go.” Patton obeyed this time.

Teagan stood up. “Can you point me to a place with decent coffee nearby, and maybe a quick breakfast?”

“There’s a place in Benson.” He gestured north. “It’s the only good one around here. It’s called Blake’s.”

“Great. Thanks.” She waved to Patton. “Bye Patton!” She offered a quick wave to Army Dude and left. As she headed toward the campground, she couldn’t help but glance behind her and sneak one last peek. When she did, she caught Army Dude watching her.

He quickly looked away.