Page 9 of Don’t Make Me Fall (Mountain Men of Cinnamon Creek #1)

Chapter Nine

Alanna

For the third time, I knock on Erin’s lodge room door, but there’s still no answer. At least she talked to me through the door yesterday morning. This silence now is killing me. I debate between giving her the space she asked for and breaking down the door to make sure she’s okay.

“Erin? Are you in there? I lost my phone—”

“She’s not there,” Devin says, startling me.

“Oh, hey. Where is she?”

Devin shrugs. “Winnie wouldn’t say, but she was smiling. So, it has to be a good thing, right?”

Bless that sweet elderly woman’s enormous heart for getting Erin out of her room. The relief I feel about my bestie is instant, but there’s a shred of disappointment, too.

Erin’s the only one who knows about my infatuation with Tyler.

The only person I trust talking to about what happened with Hudson up on that mountain top.

I’ve never felt one shred for Tyler what I feel for Hudson.

It’s completely foreign. I don’t know if I should trust it or run the other way.

Part of me is actually considering quitting my job and moving to Montana.

I can’t decide if that would be taking a worthy risk or just repeating an old pattern.

Would I once again be uprooting my life for a man?

I did enough of that with Tyler Duncan these past two years. Passed on applying for positions I really wanted because I didn’t want to leave him. Because he convinced me I was more valuable where I was. That he needed me.

The bastard.

I realize now that he only needed me to do his work for him so he could fuck Cindy’s brains out while I settled for ingenuine smiles and meaningless compliments. Never again will I settle for less than I deserve.

“You okay?” Devin asks, eyebrows drawn in concern, no doubt at my hard frown.

“I’m good. Are you?” I nod at her ankle, noticing she’s limping slightly. It appears to be wrapped with black athletic tape.

“Just a victim of my own clumsiness, I’m afraid.” She brushes it off with a wave of her hand. “Anything you want to talk about? I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

I consider Devin’s offer. I don’t know her all that well.

She and Erin met in a book club a couple of years ago.

But from getting to know her throughout wedding planning, I do like her.

I trust her, even. But it’s not the same as talking this life altering crisis through with my bestie.

So, I brush off her offer. “Thanks. I’m just working through some things with work. ”

“Aren’t we all,” she mumbles.

“If you see Erin, can you let her know I lost my phone?”

“Sure,” she says, “But I lost mine too.”

“You did?”

“There was this incident with a moose and some marshy water. Let’s just say Mr. Moose: one, and Devin: zero.”

“That…sucks.”

Devin shrugs. “You know, it’s been a little freeing if I’m being honest.”

Huh. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Ever since I chucked my own phone over the side of a mountain, I’ve hardly thought about it. But that might have something to do with how preoccupied my hands and other body parts have been with a certain grumpy mountain man since that impulsive stunt.

“Why don’t you leave a message with Winnie?” Devin suggests. “I bet she’ll see Erin.”

“Good idea.”

I head to the lobby, not surprised to find Winnie at the front desk.

I wonder if that woman ever sleeps. A couple dressed in matching flannel jackets disappears down a hall, but otherwise, it’s just the two of us.

No sign of Erin, Reid, Hudson, or any other bridesmaids.

I’m still a little thrown that I didn’t know Hudson was part owner of the lodge. My brother never mentioned that detail.

“How was your hike?” Winnie asks, her smile sweet as apple pie.

Her innocent question doesn’t keep me from blushing. Because every answer seems to border on inappropriate, I settle on, “The sunset was breathtaking.”

“I heard about the rockslide,” she says, genuine concern in her expression. “I hope you weren’t too rattled?”

“It was actually nice to be away from everything,” I admit, meaning it.

“You like Cinnamon Creek.” Not a question. A statement. A correct statement.

“I know I haven’t been here long, but I kind of love this place. Part of me never wants to leave.”

“You could stay,” she suggests, her tone light but also hinting at serious.

“And do what?”

“Your brother mentioned that you’re an executive assistant for a big company.”

“Something like that.” I may have fudged the importance of my job a tad, including my title. But I didn’t want anyone to worry, especially Reid. I wanted everyone to believe I was happy and successful so they couldn’t see the misery behind the mask of fake smiles and fancy titles.

“I bet with your experience, you could work anywhere you wanted.”

“You think?”

“We’re looking for an event coordinator here at the lodge. I bet you’d be great at that.”

“Isn’t that what you do?” I ask, confused.

“I’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks. I’m spending the holidays with my twin sister Wilma in this charming little town called Alpine Valley. Have you heard of it?”

“No, can’t say that I have.”

“And besides,” Winnie continues, “this position needs someone with more tech skills than I have. There’s so much potential for the right person. You should consider it. I’m sure your brother would enjoy having you closer.”

Is this a sign?

Or wishful thinking?

Winnie pulls a business card from the display on the front check-in counter and flips it over. She scribbles something on the back and hands it to me. It’s a business card for the lodge, listing the names of the three general managers with an email address, phone number, and website.

“Hudson’s in charge of hiring.”

I turn the card over, discovering an address.

“I heard about your phone, too,” Winnie adds.

An embarrassed blush heats my cheeks. Did Hudson tell her I threw my phone over the side of the mountain in an outburst of emotion?

“It’s just a conversation, dear,” Winnie insists as a new couple enters the lodge, luggage in tow. It’s my cue to leave.

I glance at the staircase to my lodge room, tempted to crawl into a comfortable bed and binge watch trash TV until our flight leaves tomorrow.

That would be easier.

But my feet apparently have other ideas, because they walk right out the front door instead.