“What is it?”
“A zipline. I bet the boys installed it.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
Liam was surprised by her answer. Tory had always been a scrappy kid, and she seemed like she’d grown into the kind of woman who wasn’t afraid of anything. “This post is still solid. So’s the cabling. I want to take a closer look at the pine where it attaches up there. Want to come with me?”
“I don’t like heights,” she said.
That explained it. Liam didn’t want to push her. They’d spent a lot of time together in the past twenty-four hours. Maybe it would serve them to take a little break.
“You could check out the greenhouses. We can meet back at the firepit in half an hour.”
“Okay. I always loved the greenhouses here. Be careful, though.” Her worried expression counteracted any chagrin he might have felt for the eager way she’d agreed with his plan.
“Will do.” He leaned forward to kiss her. It felt as natural as standing in the sunshine, and they parted just as naturally.
Liam whistled as he hiked up the hill.
The big, old-fashioned glass greenhouses were almost works of art, Tory thought as she stood inside the door of the first one and looked around.
Even more amazing, they were intact. Why hadn’t hooligans come and broken all the windows? She was beginning to think the residents of Silver Falls must hold the place in some kind of collective pride that prevented them from ruining it the way most abandoned places were—or maybe the caretaker was a much more constant presence here than Liam thought.
She was grateful for whatever kept it safe, because the structure was nothing short of miraculous. She had a dim recollection of visiting here with her mother. Picking up a pot of tulips, or daffodils, or something like that one spring. It had been jungle-warm in there despite the earliness of the season.
Today it was roasting, and she wouldn’t be able to stay inside for long.
She walked around, touching the endless lengths of wooden counters and tabletops that in her memory were crowded with pots bursting with blooms. Above her was the sprinkler system that had once misted the plants. She spotted an old trowel. A set of wooden sticks to label the varieties of flowers. Even a pair of gardener’s gloves.
Once this place had been part of an operation that kept a family afloat. Between the lodge, the treehouse cabins, the public days and the flower business, it had paid for a mother and her three sons to survive in the world—not to mention their employees. Now that was over.
Would it ever come to life again?
A movement outside the greenhouse caught her eye, and Tory froze, half voicing a scream before it stuck in her throat. A glimpse of a face—a flash of color—
Then it was gone again.
It wasn’t Liam. She was sure of that. The owner—or the caretaker? But why hadn’t he come in to challenge her if that’s who it was.
She screamed when a rock splintered a nearby window. She caught sight of the person again, ducked down behind one of the potting benches, and clapped a hand over her mouth. Would her cry lead Rod to her or frighten him away?
She scuttled forward to hide behind another one of the rows of tables—farther away from where she’d seen Rod—but then she realized she was backing herself into a corner.
Where had he gone?
It didn’t matter, did it? She might as well be in a display case in here—he could see her from any angle outside.
She had to get out of here, but how could she do that without him catching her as she ran out the door?
Maybe he was gone already—
Another movement came from her right.
Tory lunged forward, reached another row, closer to the door this time. She held her breath. Looked around wildly. Was Rod circling around the back of the greenhouse? The myriad panes of glass reflected and distorted motion. She wasn’t sure if the jumping images she saw were her own reflection or someone moving outside.
She lurched toward the door again, crab-walking between the rows of tables, getting closer. If she could just get outside—
Get back to the lodge. Find Liam—
She reached the door, pulled it open, ran outside—
And crashed into a man’s arms.
Tory’s second scream made Liam’s ears ring.
“Hey! Tory—it’s me. What’s going on?” Moments ago, Liam had launched the zipline swing from the platform on the pine tree and taken a wild ride down the hill, uncertain if he’d be able to stop himself in time when he reached the lodge.
The brake had worked, albeit somewhat half-heartedly, and his heels had just hit the planking of the deck when Tory’s first cry sounded.
Somehow Liam had gotten down from the deck and reached the greenhouse, and now Tory fought and squirmed in his arms, her movements frantic.
“Tory!”
She stopped struggling, still panting in his arms. “Liam?”
“Who else would it be?”
“I saw… I saw a man…”
She wasn’t making sense. “Saw who?”
“I think—I think it was Rod—”
Rod? “Are you sure?” Liam swore. How would he even know they were here? More to the point, why would he follow them?
“Not entirely,” she admitted. “It happened so fast I didn’t get a very good look, but I think it was him.”
The back of Liam’s neck prickled with the sensation they were being watched even now. Liam was a rancher. He didn’t travel without a rifle in his truck. Unfortunately, they were nowhere near his truck—
“Let’s get back to the beach,” he said quietly. “Stay near me.”
He kept a hand wrapped around
