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The woman in front of me barely seemed to hear me. One moment, her pretty hazel eyes were focused on my face, and the next, she whispered, “Oh no.”
I could tell she didn’t hear my question. Sensing she was about to faint, I reached her just in time and she slumped into my arms.
“Well,” I said to myself as I looked down at her.
Her eyes had fallen closed. She had silky brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a fitted blouse that flared around her hips over a pair of fitted jeans that tucked into, you guessed it, fitted boots with low heels.
I adjusted her in my arms and carried her toward her car. She must have had her key fob on her, because it automatically unlocked when I stopped beside it. Except, I couldn’t just leave her in her car. That didn’t feel right.
I turned to walk toward a small bench. It was nothing fancy. Roughhewn planks on two logs situated against a stone wall. I sat down, easing her to my side, while keeping my arm curled around her shoulder, so she didn’t topple over in the opposite direction.
She was pretty in an understated way. Her nose endearingly tipped up at the end. Her lips were full, in contrast to the sharp lines of her face. Her cheekbones rose high and her jaw had a clean, angled line. I noted that she wasn’t wearing a ring on her ring finger. I had no idea why I would even notice that detail.
The few minutes I’d spent in this woman’s company had been electrifying. When I pulled into the viewing area for a break and to stretch my legs, she was standing by the railing, looking out over the glacial river. I might’ve not even said anything until she let out her joyful shout and spun in a circle, appearing ecstatic to be here.
While I did love Alaska and meant what I said when I told her it was amazing, the last few months of my life had been challenging and I was weary inside. I’d taken this drive, starting with a short ferry ride, from my hometown of Fireweed Harbor all the way up to Fairbanks solely because I wanted some peace and quiet. There was more than enough of that here. Miles upon miles of empty stretches of highway with few other cars in sight, and wildlife sightings aplenty with only the occasional human encounter.
It had been maybe a minute or two since I’d carried her over here when I felt her shift against me and glanced down to see her eyes opening. After she blinked, her gaze was clear again. She sat up, blinked a few more times, and let out an annoyed huff.
“Are you okay?” I repeated my earlier question from right before she fainted.
She sighed. “I’m fine. I have this weird thing. They call it syncope. Basically, sometimes I get lightheaded and faint. It never happens when I’m sitting down, which is the only reason I’m allowed to drive.”
“Ah, I see.”
She straightened more fully. I was a little disappointed to lose the press of her soft curves against my side. “Thank you,” she said as she looked around. “I’m assuming you kept me from face-planting and carried me over here?” She peered up at me.
“Yes, and no need to thank me. I’m a firefighter. It’s in my wheelhouse.”
“Catching random women when they faint and carrying them to benches?” she asked, her eyes teasing.
“Sure, if that’s what the occasion calls for.”
As we sat there smiling at each other, I experienced a sense of lightness. There was an ease to sharing space with her.
Her gaze broke from mine first. She stood up and brushed her hands down the front of her jeans before tapping her palms together lightly. “Well, I should get going.”
I didn’t want her to leave. “Do you mind if I ask your name?”
She studied me quietly for a few beats before offering, “Tish.”
“What would you say if I wanted to call you?”
A light gust of wind came off the river, blowing her ponytail in a swirl.
“I would say that I don’t know. What’s your name?”
“Griffin.”
I wasn’t sure why I chose to leave out my last name, but I did, just as she had.
“How about if we ever see each other again, we can take that as a sign?”
Chapter Three
Griffin
A few years later
