Hannah wiped down the little cafe table on Cain’s deck. The sun was getting low in the sky, casting tall shadows over the deck. The air was still that evening, the odor of conifer trees and grill smoke filling the air. How different the mountains smelled during the summertime. And it was quiet, even quieter than at her house. She could hear nothing but the gentle wind whistling through the trees and the sound of sizzling steaks on the grill.

“What do you want to drink?” Cain said, flipping the steaks. “Your options are still water or bourbon.”

“I’ll get it. What about you?”

“One of each.”

Hannah smiled and limped inside. She refilled Cain’s bourbon glass, and then poured herself a little. She wasn’t a bourbon girl, but when she tasted his, she found that it was better than she expected. Plus, it seemed like the right thing for a summer evening on the deck. She then filled two more glasses with water. She needed to stay hydrated. Hydration aided healing, and she needed to heal as soon as possible and get out there again.

A few minutes later, they sat on Cain’s deck, two perfectly cooked steaks and some grilled vegetables on two white plates. Cain held up his bourbon. Hannah clinked hers with his and took a sip of the smooth libation.

“Good, huh?” he said, noticing her look of pleasure as he cut his steak. “It’s made on the Western Slope.”

Hannah nodded. “I’ve been to that distillery. A close friend of mine lives in Junction—correction, lived in Junction. She moved to Red Rim Valley and I haven’t gotten used to that yet.” When Cain didn’t respond, Hannah eyed him while she cut her own juicy steak. “So. Are you going to tell me why you’re so opinionated about running, or…”

“Not much to tell,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “I used to race ultras, for the same reasons you do. It felt more like work than what it should feel like. After a bad injury and then coming in fourth place in a race I trained years for, I realized I was miserable. So I stopped.”

“You don’t run anymore?”

“I run. But I don’t race. Not because there’s anything wrong with it, but because it didn’t bring out my best side. I was happier just running when I felt like it, and finding happiness in more peaceful things.”

“Such as?”

“Backpacking, mostly.” When she nodded, he asked, “You backpack?”

“I do. During summer and fall. It’s been a while, though. Running has gotten in the way.” She eyed his stubble. “So what’s the story with the beard? You had the full Grizzly Adams going for a minute there.”

Cain stroked his jaw. “I started a job at the V.A. Hospital this week. They’re not into the whole mountain man look. People want their physicians to look trustworthy.”

Hannah laughed. “Yeah, you did look a little sinister that night I dropped by to say hello. I don’t know if it was the beard or the angry look in your eye.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t used to getting visitors. And you weren’t much better. You wouldn’t even let me help you.”

“I wasn’t about to accept help from some strange dude I’ve never seen before.”

“Bullshit. You weren’t taking help from anyone.”

She pointed her fork at him. “Exactly.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like figuring things out myself.”

“Even if it puts you in danger.”

“Even if it puts me in danger.” She popped another bite of the delicious steak into her mouth and cut another piece.

“I take it you like the steak,” he said, glancing down at her already half-eaten hunk of meat.

“I love all food. But especially grilled steak. Thank you, by the way. In case I forget to say it when I leave.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, working the High Peaks race. Is that something you do every year?”

He shook his head. “This was my first time. I moved here a year ago.”

Hannah stared at him. “How have you lived in this community for a year and I’ve never seen you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t get out much, unless it’s in the backcountry.”

“Where’d you move from?”

Cain hesitated, looking away for just a moment. “From the Army.”

“Oh, so you’re an Army doctor.”

“Sort of. I’m out now.”

“Huh.” She nodded. “That explains a lot.”

“Like what?”

“Your no-bullshit bedside manner, for one thing.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Hey, I let you cry on my shoulder, remember?”

“I mean that in a good way. I like it.”

He looked surprised at that. Then he took on a more self-satisfied look. “I hope so. You’d be a hypocrite if you didn’t. You’re about as no-bullshit as anyone I’ve ever met, male or female.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, sipping her water.

“You should. It’s refreshing.”

“You said you just started your job. What have you been doing out here for a year?”

Cain hesitated again. “Communing with nature. Being Grizzly Adams.”

She smiled. “Chopping wood and hanging with the bears?”

“More or less.”

Hannah could tell there was more to that story, but she wasn’t going to press. Honesty was one thing, but getting personal with a virtual stranger was quite another.

“What do you do?” Cain asked, taking another sip of his bourbon. “For work?”

“I work for Athena.”

“The women’s fitness company.”

She nodded. “I’m an editor there.”

He nodded, his dark eyes traveling down her body and back up again. “I could see that.”

Another tingling sensation ran through Hannah, this one starting at her shoulders and traveling down to her hands and feet. She looked away, focusing on her rapidly diminishing plate of food.

The sun had dipped behind the mountains, and the sky took on a deep blue as evening turned to dusk. Crickets chirped nearby as the two of them finished their plates in silence. And when Hannah pushed her plate away and sat back in her chair, she realized it was the first sense of peace and relaxation she’d felt in a long time. She wasn’t sure how long, but longer than she could remember. Soon, she shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms. She hadn’t brought a jacket. She never thought she’d stay this long.

Cain stood up suddenly and walked into the house. Hannah watched him, wondering if he’d reached his limit, if it was time for her to go. She stood too, gathering their plates. But when Cain returned, he had a fleece jacket in his hand. He handed it to her.

“Thank you,” Hannah said, touched by Cain’s thoughtfulness.

“Have a seat,” he said, taking the plates from her and going back inside.

Hannah did, putting on Cain’s jacket, feeling warm and toasty in the soft black fleece. It smelled like him, or like she imagined he would smell if she nuzzled up against the crook of his neck. Like male musk and mountain air.

She shook her head. No. She shouldn’t be thinking like that.

Should she?

Cain returned with the bottle of bourbon. “You’re shaking your head.”

Hannah blinked. Busted.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a random thought.”

“You warmer now?”

“I am. Thank you.” She studied him. “You like taking care of people, don’t you?”

He scowled, like she’d just insulted him. “Where did that come from?”

Hannah smiled. “Too sappy? Or too personal?”

Cain chuckled. “You’re a ballbuster, you know that?”

Hannah giggled at that. She poured herself a little bourbon. When she offered some to Cain, he shook his head and continued sipping what he had left.

She lifted her glass. “To being honest.”

“Here here,” Cain said, clinking his glass with hers.

Hannah sipped her bourbon again. It warmed her insides perfectly.

“So,” Cain said. “No husband? No kids?”

“Nope. You?”

“No husband. I prefer women.” When Hannah gave him a look, he said, “No wife or kids.”

“Why not?”

“Do I have to have a reason?”

“No. I was just curious.”

“I’m not the marrying kind,” he said, his brown eyes watching her, as if waiting for a reaction.

“In that you don’t like legal marriage? Or you don’t want to settle down with one woman?”

“Mostly the former. Although I wonder if settling down isn’t in the cards for me. I like my alone time.”

A few butterflies swirled in her stomach at that. “Me too. It’s a problem.”

Cain raised his eyebrows. “You attract guys who want more than you can give them?”

“Like moths to a flame.”

“Do you want marriage? Or kids?”

She thought about that. “Kids? I don’t know. I probably need to decide because I’m thirty-six and, well, you know how that works. And marriage… I don’t care about marriage, and I hate anything having to do with weddings…”

“Me too. They’re so fucking cheesy.”

“Totally. But… in the interest of honesty… I wouldn’t mind having a partner. Someone who understands me. My closest friends have found these great guys, and I’m busy offending men for wanting my space. So now I’m stuck hobbling to the grocery store by myself on a jacked-up foot.”

Cain nodded, staring at her with his brown eyes, the eyes that conveyed so much, yet you weren’t quite sure what it all meant. The way he looked at her made her feel a little wobbly inside, like she was glad she was sitting down. Then, it occurred to her that maybe she’d invaded Mr. Alone Time’s private life long enough. In her world, and probably Cain’s world too, overstaying your welcome was a punishable crime.

“I should get home,” she said, sipping her last swig of the delicious bourbon, “and leave you to your alone time.” She stood up, grimacing just a little and shifting her weight to her right foot. She collected the empty glasses and brought them inside.

Cain followed.

Hannah set the glasses in his sink. Then her eye was drawn to the bookshelf again. It was sort of on her way out, and she slowed down to catch a glimpse of a few titles. Classics—Dickens, the Odyssey, Moby Dick. Stories about men on difficult journeys.

“You like to read?” he said, watching her.

She nodded. “English major… well, that and business.”

“There you go. Something to do while you’re laid up.”

“I prefer to be outside.”

“Then read outside.”

Hannah smiled a little, already beginning to get used to Cain’s blunt, matter-of-fact way. She knew he was right, that there was a solution to her temporary ban from running or being active, but she wasn’t going to admit it.

When she headed to his front door, Cain followed. She picked up her purse and her keys, and opened his door. Suddenly, the door wouldn’t open any more, and Hannah realized it was because Cain had blocked it with his hand. He stood only inches from her, his dark eyes looking down into hers.

“Are you sure you have to leave?” he said.

Hannah stared at Cain, hardly knowing what to think. He stared back, those eyes watching her, sending shivers through her entire body.

Maybe she did have to leave. Maybe she should. But she realized that he didn’t want her to leave… and she didn’t want to, either.

Before she could say anything, Cain stood even closer to her, so close that she could smell his masculine scent and feel his heat. He shoved the door closed, and gently pushed her back against the door, caging her in with his arms.

And then he kissed her.