Noah Spencer stood on the sidewalk outside Road Runner and balked at the total on the receipt. Three pairs of hiking shoes cost more than his monthly mortgage payment. How could that be? One for him, two for the boys he big-brothered. Maybe he should at least return his.
He dug in his wallet for his credit card as he pushed the door open with his foot. Surely they’d let him return shoes he’d only walked out with ten minutes ago. There was the card, in the back.
Noah stepped through the door and ran right into a woman. He reached a hand to steady her as she teetered in the doorway.
He locked eyes with a pair of familiar hazels, gold flecks reflecting the rays of the sun as their owner stepped over the threshold. Engulfed by a huge flannel shirt, the body was almost unidentifiable, but her squared jaw and long, slim neck were unmistakable. Hadley Parker.
Oh, no. After all this time and this was what he was wearing the moment he saw her again? It wasn’t his fault his pant leg had gotten caught in his bicycle chain and he’d had to cut it off and make shorts. Too bad he’d had black socks on, but there was no spare pair in his bike bag. Besides, she didn’t look like a fashion critic in that getup. Yet his heart raced. What was he, seventeen again?
His ears buzzed as her lips parted to respond to something the salesclerk had said. The reward? Dimples so deep they reminded him of long-ago summers of pure joy. What Noah wouldn’t give to see them shot his way in response to a funny joke or sweet comment he’d made. Poof. The dimples disappeared just as suddenly as they’d flashed, and sadness took over her gaze. She nodded as she stepped around him and walked out the door.
Again.
With only a few hours before the hunt started, it was probably time to figure out how to use the GPS thingy before she dropped off the rental car and made her way to the park for the kickoff. Hadley tied her new shoes then reached into her carry-on and pulled out her Garmin—still in its package. Ava thought it crazy to drop four hundred dollars on a unit when she could rent one in the Ozarks. If Ava only knew that the four hundred had barely scratched the surface of her expenses. Add another eighty for the North American Navigator microSD card, forty for the carry case, two hundred ninety for the shoes and socks, three hundred for the flight, and a thousand to rent a room for the two months. Not to mention the four hundred she’d dropped at REI for moisture-wicking hiking attire like tank tops, T-shirts, and shorts, and another hundred for the hydration pack the salesgirl had talked her into. Plus the mountain bike.
Hadley could have hiked near home and saved a fortune, but if she was going to do this, she intended to do it right down to the tiniest detail. If she stayed home in Chicago, there were too many diversions and opportunities to make excuses. Plus, returning to Osage Beach was like coming home.
Guided solely by the GPS clues and the voices in her head, Hadley found Hertz with little trouble, once she figured out which way was north. She parked and went in. The keys to the rental car jingled as Hadley dropped them onto the counter at the return desk. She wouldn’t need those anymore. Just outside the window, a boy lifted the brand-new, top-of-the-line mountain bike she’d just purchased from OZ Cycles from the back of the SUV and settled it against the Hertz store.
The old man behind the counter chewed on a half-digested pencil then slid it behind his ear, eyes never leaving the bike outside, as though it were an alien spaceship. “You planning to ride that all the way back to Osage Beach?”
“Sure. Why not? Should only take an hour or so.” Hadley had checked her GPS and mapped her route before she left Norma’s. Hopefully her first attempt at using her coordinates wasn’t a bust.
The old man lifted his cap and wiped a handkerchief across his sweaty, bald head. “Crazy health nuts.” He shook his head. “We get fitness folks like you every summer.” He chuckled and handed Hadley her receipt. “Best o’ luck to you. Drink lots of water. If you’re not used to this heat, it’ll get to you.”
No one had ever mistaken Hadley for a health-crazed fitness aficionado before. Maybe she could store up every comment like that and let them erase at least the jeers and taunts of childhood. One down, a million and a half to go. It was a start.
No more putting it off. Hadley searched her mind for any last-minute preparation she could—which was far easier than stepping out into the real world. Why was she making this so difficult? People did this sort of thing every day. “Yeah, normal people,” she whispered. “People with normal bodies. People who don’t talk to themselves …”
Her bicycle turned as though propelled by GPS coordinates of its own, down the easement between the Osage Beach Community Church and the wooded park beside it for the kickoff rally. The bike seemed to want to be there, and Hadley felt powerless to stop the wheels from turning. Within moments, she stood amid a group of several hundred geocache hunters—acting, if not looking, like she belonged there. Fake it till you make it, Hadley.
She chained her bike to a tree and whirled around to face the crowd again, but instead, she got a face full of someone’s backpack as he swung around, knocking her off balance.
A strong hand grabbed Hadley’s elbow to steady her before she fell. Twice in two days?
“Careful, sweetheart. Looks like a wisp of wind could knock you off your feet.”
Hadley wilted under the scrutiny of the handsome stranger’s dark eyes. The invisible superpower she’d wished for as a child would sure come in handy right about then.
“Or you can let me sweep you off your feet.”
Oh, great, a sympathy flirt. “Um. Yeah. Right. Nice line.”
“You like that one? I’ve got more where that came from.” He ran his hand through his thick black hair, the silver above his ears glinting in the sunlight.
Hadley laughed for the first time since she’d arrived back in Osage Beach. “I’ll pass. But thanks.”
“Whoa! If I’d known getting you to laugh would reward me with those dimples, I’d have opened with a joke. I tell you what, let’s talk hunts and haircuts over lunch this afternoon. What do you say? There’s a neat little bakery/bistro called On the Rise. They have a lobster pot pie that’s to die for.”
Yeah, put all ninety-six pounds back on in one day? “I don’t think so—I’m allergic. Thanks, though.” Hadley turned her attention away from the tan, muscled beach god and toward …
Noah? With a microphone?
Her first love stood at the front of the crowd and introduced himself as Pastor Noah Spencer. She should have known. He looked much more comfortable behind the mike than he had in front of the cash register. And no more black socks. Phew.
“… let’s kick off this hunt with a prayer—”
“Well you can order anything. Come on. I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Shh. I want to listen.” Hadley held a finger up to her mouth and nodded her head toward her old friend. “Besides I don’t have out-to-lunch clothes with me, and I don’t have a car,” she whispered.
“No sweat. Come as you are, and I’ll pick you up.”
Hadley squinted against the sun. He sure was handsome. It had been years—thirteen, actually—since she’d been on a date. Might as well give it a try. “Okay. But I’ll meet you there at noon.” Before he could argue about picking her up, Hadley turned her attention to the front. She wanted the information, even if salt-n-pepper guy didn’t.
While Noah spoke, Hadley searched the crowd. A couple of chubby girls, but no one seriously obese. Lots of twenty-something enthusiasts, by the looks of their equipment. After all, they couldn’t all be posers like her. Fake it till you make it, Hadley.
She pulled a wisp of blond hair from her mouth and tucked it into her ponytail. She was used to Chicago winds, so this light breeze was refreshing through the mugginess of the June Missouri morning. Hadley pulled on her sun visor and peered around the little park, cordoned off for the event. Across the yard she spotted the registration table. Time to commit.
As she approached the picnic table, a pretty, dark-haired girl grinned at her. Bet she’d never had to diet. “Hi, I’m Lyssa. Welcome to the Rainbow’s End Treasure Hunt. I just need you to fill out an information sheet and sign a waiver of liability. You know, in case of an accident or heat stroke.” Lyssa laughed and handed over a clipboard.
“Thanks.” Hadley ignored the picnic tables with the pens strewn across the tops, likely designated for filling out papers, and walked away from the crowd, up a slight hill to a weeping willow, where she settled beneath its enveloping boughs. She could just stay there, nestled safely in the background, like always.
No!
Hadley gripped her pen and scratched her name and pertinent info onto the forms. Enough was enough. She was there to complete the change she’d been making all year. She strode to the table and thrust the pack of papers at Lyssa. “Here you go.”
“Great”—Lyssa peered at the papers—”Hadley. You can join the others over there. Pastor Noah hasn’t begun the instructions yet, so you’re just in time.”
Hadley made her way to a huge boulder at the back of the crowd and scrambled to the top, where she huddled like a mountain goat. She could see everything and everyone from atop her perch—and, better yet, no one was looking at her.