Heart Of A Hero. Debra & Regan Webb & Black
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February 24, 2:15 p.m.
Charlotte Binali, Charly to everyone who knew her, muttered encouragement to her computer screen. The spreadsheet was almost complete, and she didn’t want to offend the technology gremlins by looking away at a crucial moment.
Her coworkers teased her mercilessly about her tenuous relationship with technology. Give her a mountain and a footprint and she could hike any terrain to find anything or anyone, but computers and the entire mess inside them made her want to cry like a baby.
She really needed to hand more of the tech over to someone else on staff, but Binali Backcountry was hers now, and as the sixth generation, she was determined to bring the business into the twenty-first century.
“Charly?” Tammy, the newest employee, whom Charly had hired to greet customers and maintain the storefront, leaned into the office doorway. “Better break out the lip gloss. Your boyfriend’s almost here.”
Charly refused to take the bait, determined to finish the spreadsheet. Besides, her requisite lip balm had protective sunscreen, not shine.
“Lip gloss, stat!” Tammy urged before she disappeared from view.
The door chimed, and when Charly heard the smooth rumble of his voice, it was more of a challenge to keep herself on task. Just a few more clicks and she could give in to the distraction of the new mailman.
Tammy reappeared, a dazzled smile on her face. “He wants to know if you have a minute,” she said in a whisper loud enough to be heard for miles.
Charly saved the changes to the schedule and pushed back from the desk. “Thanks,” she replied, mimicking Tammy’s loud whisper as she left the office to greet Will Chase, the hot new mail carrier working Durango’s business district.
Hot is a significant understatement, she thought when he smiled at her. The strong, square jaw might have been carved from granite, and the wide shoulders, trim hips and strong hands had been starring in her dreams recently. Not that she’d admit that to anyone.
“Hey, Will.”
“Hi,” he replied, removing his sunglasses. “Am I interrupting?”
“No.” She hoped her smile didn’t look as starstruck as Tammy’s. “Just finished.” They’d only been out on two occasions—she couldn’t bring herself to call them dates—but she melted a little every time he looked at her with those vivid eyes as deep and blue as a high mountain lake. It still startled her the way he could turn the pale, watered-down blue of the official postal service shirt and dark jeans into raw sex appeal. “Excel didn’t implode on me this time.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Last week, when she’d been ready to smash the computer to bits one afternoon, he’d arrived with the mail, caught her midrant and given her a quick lesson on the program. Later, during what should have been movie night, he’d spent hours showing her where to find more video tutorials, which had saved her computer from going out the window more than once in the days since.
“Are we still on for a movie tonight?”
“Sure.” She accepted the stack of mail, thick with outdoor-gear catalogs. “The schedule’s set for next week and this time it doesn’t even need to be labeled as ‘The Spreadsheet that Conquered Charly.’”
He laughed, the sound as clear and fresh to her ears as a brimming creek on a hot day. “That might be the one title I don’t have. I’ve got plenty of beer. You bring the pizza.” He put his sunglasses in place and backed toward the door, graceful as a cat. “Say, seven?”
She nodded, her mouth going dry as he turned to make his exit.
Beside her, Tammy sighed. The girl liked nothing better than a clear view of an excellent male backside. Charly still didn’t know which view she preferred. Will walking in was just as appealing to her as when he was walking away.
“He didn’t kiss you goodbye,” Tammy said.
“Why would he?” Charly made herself laugh off the image. She couldn’t indulge in that little fantasy at work. “We’re just friends. And this is a workplace.”
“Not from where I’m standing, and so what?” Tammy flung a hand toward the spot where Will had been moments ago. “That man wants to sleep with you.”
“Whatever.” Charly refused to get her hopes up. So far they’d gone out for beer and pool at the pub up the street and gone bowling once, but she knew how this story ended before she turned the last page. The way it always ended—with one more tempting man in the friend column.
It had been that way her whole life. Part of it was being built more like a boy than a woman, but her business played a part, too. Binali Backcountry, her life’s passion, took up the majority of her energy and time. She enjoyed the mountains, the risk and reward she could find there, and she rose every morning eager to share her passion and knowledge with others as the owner, as well as a guide. Her commitment and drive didn’t leave much room for romance and relationships.
For as long as she could remember, she’d been drawn to the wild call of the mountains and canyons surrounding the Four Corners Monument. Born and raised just outside of Durango, she’d spent her life exploring until it all felt as personal as her own backyard. Her grandfather often boasted that you could drop her anywhere on the planet and she’d find her way home no matter the weather or resources. She could track and mimic any animal that called this area home and, more importantly, she could find lost people better than any bloodhound.
Typically, men looking for a good time didn’t put those skills at the top of the list when they wanted a date. Or a girlfriend. It was too soon to tell if Will would be different. She returned to the office to print out the work schedule.
Looking it over as it came off the printer, she prepared for the inevitable complaints. She required all of her guides to spend a few hours in the shop each week. It wasn’t a popular stance and she’d lost a few good guides to nearby competitors since she’d implemented the policy. No one loved getting out and guiding mountain and canyon tours more than she did. But it was important to her that everyone understood the gear they carried for customers and that selling tours was a group effort. It kept them all invested and focused on the overall success of Binali Backcountry. As she’d explained it—again—at last month’s staff meeting, no one sold a tour better than the guide who loved to lead it.
The reverse was also true, and it was past time for Tammy to get out and away from the business district. “Have you decided which tour you’ll join next week?”
Tammy cringed and busied herself with a sudden interest in the day’s few credit card receipts. “I’m not sure my boots are broken in yet.”
Charly glanced at Tammy’s feet and noted the cute Western boots better suited for line dancing than hiking. “So start small. How about something down around Lake Nighthorse or along the river trail?” Those routes naturally had a slower pace, more photo opportunities and generally left people delighted rather than exhausted.
“Maybe.” Tammy popped her gum while she flipped through the appointment book. “Clint only has openings on his two-night thing into the canyon.”
Ah. Now Charly had the clear picture. Tammy was crushing on Clint. The girl had good taste, but Clint Roberts wasn’t the one-woman kind of guy, and she didn’t want Tammy’s feelings getting hurt in the bargain.
“I know the tents are rated to thirty below or whatever,” Tammy said, “but I can’t believe that material is really effective.”
“What you should believe,” Charly said, her voice calm but stern, “is that your job here depends on you getting outside by next week.”
Tammy’s eyes went wide, shimmering with tears. “That’s not fair.”
This kind of thing was exactly why Charly preferred working with men. No emotional games, just the occasional posturing, and she knew how to shut that