At Last

“It’s supposed to be labeled,” Mallory said calmly, the voice of reason. “It’s supposed to be a lovely time.”

Amy rolled her eyes.

“I heard that,” Mallory said. “Now tell me what’s the problem with a gorgeous guy, a really good gorgeous guy, taking you out and calling it a date? He’s got a job, a home, and the best abs I’ve ever seen. Besides, he’s already charmed you out of your pants, right?”

“Okay,” Amy said to Grace’s unladylike snort. “First of all, the only reason I took off my pants was because I had a cut on my thigh.”

“That wouldn’t be my first guess,” Grace said.

“And second of all,” Amy went on as if Grace hadn’t spoken, “it wasn’t a big deal! I was on a hike, and I got lost and-”

“-And he rescued you,” Mallory pointed out. “Another check in the pro column. The man is hot and he rescues fair maidens in distress.”

“I wasn’t in distress! I called you first, and you-”

“-Wouldn’t have charmed you out of your pants,” Mallory said.

Grace burst out laughing.

Amy thunked her head against her knees. “You aren’t listening.”

“Then say it again in English this time,” Mallory said.

“Fine,” Amy blew out a breath. “I’ve never been on a real date.”

Utter silence. Amy checked the phone screen to see if she still had reception. “Hello? You guys still there?”

“How old are you?” Grace asked, sounding confused.

“Twenty-eight.”

“And you’re still a virgin?”

“I didn’t say that,” Amy said with a laugh. “And no, I’m not.” She was just about as far from a virgin as one could get. “Look, it’s not a big deal. I left home when I was sixteen, and after that, it was more about survival than dating.” She’d done what she’d had to, and sometimes that had involved being with a guy because he had a place to stay or food-neither of which meant a “date” in any sense of the word.

“And then somehow I just never got to a place where dating was really an option,” she said, staring at the creek at her feet. A butterfly had landed on the water and was floundering, trying not to drown. Amy knew the feeling. Leaning forward, she tried to rescue the thing but it was swept away in the current. She knew that feeling, too. “Listen, I’ve got to go so I don’t get stuck up here again.”

“No, wait,” Mallory said. “Please wait. I’m sorry we laughed at you. I think it’s lovely that Matt asked you out.”

Amy sighed. Mallory was sounding like maybe she was feeling very emotional-which didn’t really count because lots of things made Mallory emotional. Like the sun rising and setting. Last time they’d watched TV together, Mallory had sobbed openly at one of those save the puppy SPCA commercials.

“You should go with him, Amy,” Mallory said. “Do the eat and talk thing. But not the naked thing, not yet.”

Amy winced, keeping to herself the fact that she’d already done the naked thing.

“Just enjoy your first date,” Mallory said. “And FYI, I have a good girl lesson for you. This one is serious, Amy. Really serious.”

“I don’t need-”

“You deserve good things,” Mallory said anyway. “You deserve good people in your life, and Matt is both good and good people.”

Dammit. Amy’s throat felt tight, and there was no SPCA commercial in sight. “How can a man be both an adjective and a noun?”

“Trust me,” Mallory said. “Ty’s both. And so is Matt.”

“I agree with Mallory,” Grace said. “You should definitely go tonight with Matt. But I say do the naked thing.”

“Grace,” Mallory admonished.

“Hello,” Grace said. “This is Matt Bowers we’re talking about. You’ve seen him. Gorgeous, built, sexy-eyed Matt. And he wears a uniform. With a gun…” She sighed dreamily. “I’m sorry, but Amy has a duty to get naked with a guy like that and report back. With details.”

Amy disco

At three o’clock, she stood at the top of a cliff looking down on the four small lakes she’d been at the other day. Way down. She could see a few otters playing along the shore of the first lake, and as she stood there in awe, a fish leapt out of the water, executing a perfect gainer before flopping back.

Her legs were wobbling from the climb. Or maybe it was from looking down from the dizzying height, but in either case, she could hear her grandma’s voice in her head.

It felt like a promise. I had my hope, but now I had something else, too, peace. Four Lakes gave me peace.

Amy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then opened them again, feeling them burn with emotion. Jesus, what was with her today? But there was no denying the truth. She’d been feeling flickers of hope ever since Sierra Meadows. It was new and tenuous, but it was there. As for peace, she hadn’t been quite sure. When she thought about her life, she knew she’d always lived it to survive. But she was begi

Which left heart, something she’d never believed in for herself and had, in fact, openly mocked.

But she didn’t feel like mocking it now, and she had no idea if maybe that was thanks to Lucky Harbor, to the friends she’d made here, or… a certain forest ranger that was filling up something deep inside her that she hadn’t even known was empty.

Matt knocked at Amy’s door. He was early for their date because… well, he didn’t really have a reason, other than he wanted to see her. He had no idea what the night would bring, but if it went anything at all like their other encounters, it wouldn’t be boring.

Her car was in her parking spot but she didn’t answer. He knocked again, and then when she still didn’t answer, he tried the door. It opened, which didn’t make him feel better-Amy wasn’t a woman to leave her door unlocked. “Amy?”

Nothing, so he stepped inside. “Hello?”

Still nothing.

Her place was small enough that he could see from one end to the next. Her bedroom door was open, and he stepped closer. It looked like a bomb had gone off. A female bomb. Clothes spilled out of the dresser drawers and closet and were scattered across the bed, but no one was actually in any of the clothes.

The bathroom was damp and misty, as if she’d recently showered. There were girlie things on the counter, tubes and bottles, and the place smelled like sexy woman. A pair of black lace panties and matching bra lay on the floor. Nice. He turned back to the living room.

There was a small slider leading to a tiny deck area, and it was cracked open. He pushed it further. The thing squeaked like hell and was all but impossible to move, and yet the woman sitting with her back to him didn’t budge.

This was because she had in earphones that led to the phone or iPod in her pocket and she was singing.

Off-key.

She was drawing, too, sketching something from memory, as she hunched over her pad, a pencil in hand moving furiously over the paper, a bundle of additional colored pencils in her other hand.

He listened to her sing for a second and felt the grin split his face. Guns N’ Roses, “Welcome to the Jungle.” He cleared his throat, but she kept singing. “Welcome to the jungle, feel my, my, serpentine, I, I wa