Love in Oregon (American Boyfriend Book 6)

  American Boyfriend

  Love in Oregon

  Chance Carter

  Contents

  Oregon

  Personal Invitation

  Free Story Offer

  Also by Chance Carter

  Oregon

  Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not what anyone would describe as a glamorous woman.

  During the school year, I’m your typical professor. I teach three classes every semester. I get a mix of students, all far more interested in texting than they are in what I have to say. I lecture on anything from basic science to biology to the intricacies of the Oregon forests.

  If you passed by me you wouldn’t think anything. I wear plain dress clothes. I swear I have the same blouse in five colors. My thick hair is always tied back in a bun, and my glasses make me seem even more like a Plain Jane. I don’t mind, though. I’m happy to float through the halls of the university, an unmemorable person, someone that others don’t really take notice of. It’s the kind of life I’ve gotten used to.

  It can get lonely, sure, especially on those rainy Oregon nights. What I wouldn’t give to have a sweet, kind man to cuddle up next to. Someone to put his arm around me, a blanket sprawled across our laps. Me reading a book on big mountain cats, and him reading a book about local trees or the poetry of William Edgar Stafford.

  Sigh.

  Really, I don’t mind flying under everyone’s radar. It’s peaceful to be left alone. My real joy is the research I do, and when I’m not bothered by other people, I can do all the research I want. I have quite the extensive library at home.

  My specialty is the wildlife of Oregon, though my real passion is the big cats. I got hired at the University because I’ve published many papers on the local cougars, lynxes, and bobcats. And I’m always reading. There’s always more to learn about these cats who hide away in the forest amongst the pines.

  Maybe I’m so intrigued by these cats because deep down, I see so much of myself in them. Hiding away, sight unseen, rarely spotted. Sneaking in the dark without a trace.

  I spend the school year teaching, but I spend my holidays with my feline friends. When the students pack up, I pack up too, and head to a small town hiding in the shadow of the Blue Mountains. There’s not much in the town, just a small grocer, a local bank, and a gas station with a quaint café attached.

  Everyone knows everyone and I like that. I also like that I’m left alone to do my work. This small town is my favorite place to make camp for research over the holidays. It’s a bit of a drive into the mountains, but I don’t mind.

  It’s Christmas break at school now, so I’ve come to the small town to get some research done. I rent a room in a little building behind the bank. Every day I venture into the forest to see if I can find any tracks in the snow from my big cats.

  No luck so far. It’s been snowing so much that any tracks just get filled right back in. It would be so exciting to find even just a small trace of steps though.

  I only have a couple days left before it’s time to head back to school and I’m desperate to spot something. I wake in the morning of my second last day. I move a bit slower than I did at the beginning of the vacation, a little from discouragement, a little from the cold and not wanting to leave my warm bed. I crawl out of bed with the comforter wrapped around me and look out the window.

  It’s snowing.

  Again.

  Is it even worth making the trek into the mountains?

  Sigh. I know it is.

  This is my life’s work and I love what I do. I’ll head out, just maybe a little bit later than usual today.

  I head to the stove, still wrapped in my warm blanket, and put on the kettle. Best to start the day with a warm cup of tea.

  I sit down in the large armchair and wait for it to boil. I pick up my book to start reading, when the phone rings.

  It’s Mitchell, one of the Rangers from the nearby park.

  He tells me there’s been a report of a possible cougar fatality deep in the woods. I’ve built a strong relationship with the Ranger’s station so I always get the calls. I need access to their grounds often, and just from passing through every day, I’ve come to know the staff there.

  As invisible as I like to be, it’s always safer to have someone know when you’re venturing off into the mountains. Just in case anything were to happen.

  I let Mitchell know I’ll be coming up shortly. I put my book down, turn the kettle off, and get dressed.

  As I pull into the parking lot by the Ranger’s station, Mitchell comes out the door to greet me.

  “That didn’t take long,” he calls as I step out of my car.

  I look up at him. He’s always so handsome in his rugged Ranger’s uniform. I feel myself pulling my hair back from my face, trying to straighten myself up a little. It’s a waste of time but I can’t help myself. I’m still a woman, after all.

  “I’ve been coming every day for two weeks,” I say, “and I’ve seen nothing. I couldn’t risk another snowfall covering this up.”

  “Yeah,” he says, helping me up the snow covered steps to the Ranger’s station. “Shame it’s an injury though. It’s never nice to hear one of our kittens has been hurt. It’s like losing a member of the family.”

  “Sad to think of something hiding her whole life, only for people to finally take notice when she’s dead,” I say.

  We both fall silent.

  Mitchell gives me a strange look then changes the subject.

  “There’s a fella who lives up on the mountain,” he says. “He called and said he was out for a walk and saw a spot of blood with a tuft of fur in it that had the same coloring as a cougar. Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean our kitten is dead, just that she’s around and possibly injured. Anything could have happened.”

  “It’s worth investigating,” I say. “Especially if she might be hurt.”

  I picture this big, majestic cat who is sad, alone, and injured. She could be cold in the woods with nothing, just waiting for the freezing and snow to overtake her. I almost start to cry but regain my composure.

  Mitchell has noticed. There’s no hiding anything from that man. It’s what makes him such an excellent Ranger. He spots everything in the forest, every little change. He has an eye for detail and can always tell when something’s amiss.

  He’s has worked at this station for as long as I’ve been coming around. I suppose he’s the closest thing I have to a friend at this point in my life. I only get to see him during the short visits I make on the holidays, but it’s always nice to be near him.

  Not least because he’s so hot.

  As a person who studies animals, I definitely can’t help noticing his physique. Even in his big winter coat, I can tell he’s very muscular.

  He must work out often.

  The woods and mountains can be a dangerous place and you need your strength, especially if you’re here year-round like he is. He’s tall too. Very tall. Over six foot, with the hat of his uniform adding extra height.

  He also has the kindest face. It’s always relaxed and friendly with a soft smile on his lips. The apples of his cheeks are pronounced and become so rosy in the cold of winter.

  We don’t really get personal. I haven’t told him about my life back in the city, and I don’t know much about his life either.

  I suppose we’re more like professional acquaintances than friends, but still, he’s really all I have.

  How sad is that?

  He’s my best friend in the world and he doesn’t even know it. For all I know, he never thinks of me from one season to the next.

  Although, with his keen eye, I wonder if he’s ever seen
through me. Has he been able to see how alone I am? Can he tell the way I look at him? I don’t look at any other man that way. I wonder if he really notices me, or am I just another visitor to the forest for him?

  Secretly, I hope I’m more than that to him. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m a pathetic spinster in love with her big cats.

  “How about I accompany you on your trip today?” he says. “The snow is deep, and we don’t know that this kitten is actually gone. It could be dangerous for you to go up alone.”

  I look up into his deep eyes.

  “Really?” I say, then instantly feel embarrassed for sounding so gaga.

  I can’t tell if he’s being nice or if this is evidence that he thinks I’m pathetic. Either way, he’s right. The weight of the snow on the trees could cause a branch to collapse, or it could cause me to fail to see a dangerous edge, or the cougar could be alive, aggravated, and very aggressive. As much as I usually enjoy the peacefulness of the wilderness, I agree with him.

  “I’d love to,” he says.

  I smile. “I think that’s a smart idea.”

  We grab the supplies we need from the station and then head off on the trail.

  “I have the coordinates of the resident’s cabin. We’ll just follow the path best we can up toward there until we see something.”

  I nod and we continue to tread through the deep snow in silence.

  When you’re like me and aren’t used to talking to people, small talk doesn’t come all that easy.

  There are a lot of things I’m great at, even an expert in. I can identify any wild cat from a small fur sample, I can recognize any animal in Oregon by its tracks in the snow, but for the life of me, I can’t think of a single thing to say to a man I’ve known for years.

  I turn and look at him. I open my mouth, hoping some words will come out, but nothing, just an awkward squeak.

  “What was that you said?”

  “Nothing. I said nothing.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  We walk a bit more and Mitchell turns to look at me. I keep my face pointed straight forward, looking at the snow. His mouth opens like he wants to say something but he stops himself.

  I glance up but then stare back down at the snow.

  We walk some more. It’s a long way to the cabin. The guy that lives there is a recluse, hidden away from society. Sometimes I feel like I’m one log-cabin away from that kind of life myself.

  “You know, I haven’t seen a single set of animal tracks since we started walking,” Mitchell says, suddenly out of nowhere.

  “Huh? Oh. Right. Yeah, me neither. I’ve seen none in weeks. The snow, you know.”

  “Nice rhyme.”

  “What?”

  “The snow, you know.”

  “Oh, right.” I laugh, nervously. Like I said, talking to others is not a skill I have.

  “I can see Glen’s footprints, though, about three yards that way,” Mitchell says, pointing across me. “Glen’s the guy who lives in the cabin. He must’ve headed into town for supplies. It looks like he was walking downhill toward the road.”

  “Oh yeah, I see that.”

  “We should be at his cabin soon.”

  “Okay, great,” I say.

  This is probably the longest conversation I’ve ever had with Mitchell and I’m acting like an idiot. He probably thinks I’m some crazy lady and not actually a professional researcher.

  I would have liked to have a man in my life some day, especially a man like Mitchell. He’s hot, he doesn’t treat me like a different species, and he’s interested in the wild animals of the mountains. He’s perfect. But I’m so awkward he’s probably counting the seconds until he can get rid of me.

  We walk another fifty yards and Mitchell says, “You can call me Mitch, by the way.”

  I swear this man is reading my thoughts.

  “Sure, Mitch.”

  We hear a crack in the forest off to our left and Mitch draws his firearm. I know this sounds silly but I feel myself swoon when I see him holding the gun. There’s something so sexy about a man with a weapon. He can protect me, he can get rid of danger. Isn’t that what men are for?

  He looks at me and sees the way I’m looking at him. I look away instantly but it’s too late. He caught me.

  “You know, a lot of women like the look of these Ranger’s costumes,” he says, and my cheeks flush in embarrassment.

  He’s so cocky. He catches me looking at him and he immediately makes a move.

  “What do you think of them?”

  I shrug. “They’re okay, Mitch. Nothing to write home about.”

  “Nothing to write home about?” he says in mock disbelief.

  If my cheeks weren’t apple red from the cold, they surely were from this.

  “I’m not that easy to impress,” I say, very curtly.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’re not,” he says and gives me a little wink.

  Is he flirting with me? I can’t believe it. I don’t know if I’m excited, embarrassed or mad.

  Big flakes of snow start to fall.

  “We should get moving,” I say, changing the subject, “or the trail will be buried and we’ll never find her.”

  “Right, let’s go.”

  We pick up the pace. Walking through the snow is no easy feat. We should have been wearing snow shoes, but our heavy boots are all we have. With more snow falling, and the cold air stinging our lungs, this trek is becoming increasingly difficult and my short frame is having trouble keeping up with Mitch’s long legs.

  “Mitch!”

  “Sorry, I was just trying to get to the top of this crest.”

  “No, Mitch, I see the blood!” I start moving through the snow as fast as I can to reach the marking.

  “What? Where?” Mitch calls out after me.

  And just then, the wind whips through, lifting all the snow, and blows it around us and all through the forest. An instant blizzard right there, right when we made our discovery. I look all around me. I can’t see much but the tree closest to me. I’ve lost my orientation and can’t figure out which way is which. I have no idea where the marking went. I have no idea where Mitch went.

  “Mitch! Mitch!” I call out, panicked.

  “Where are you?”

  “I don’t know! I can’t see a thing!”

  “Neither can I. This snow came from nowhere. Stand still. Maybe it will pass.”

  A gust of wind comes from behind me and knocks me over, making me shriek. The snow is still blowing frantically everywhere.

  “Where are you? Are you okay? What happened?” Mitch calls out. “Keep calling out to me, I’ll follow the sound of your voice until I get to you.”

  Now I have no choice but to come up with things to say, so I start yelling the first thing that came to mind, all the wildlife of Oregon.

  “Cougar. Lynx. Bobcat. Coyote. Gray Wolf. Gray Fox. Kit Fox. Red Fox …”.

  I feel his arms wrap around me. I would have protested but I’m too relieved that he found me.

  “I’ve got you now.”

  He picks me up and cradles me in his arms.

  “Glen’s cabin isn’t too far from here. I’ll get us there,” he says, his voice sure and full of confidence.

  He marches through the snow, holding me in his arms. I keep my eyes closed the whole time. I feel a shift in his body, feel his leg lift higher and then the sound of a wooden door shutting behind us.

  At last, the terrible wind is gone.

  I peek my eyes open and see that we’re in Glen’s cabin, safe from the snow, but my glasses fog right up and I can’t see much again.

  Mitch places me gently onto an armchair next to the fireplace. He knows his way around the cabin and has clearly been there before. I watch as he moves to a pile of logs and brings some to the fireplace. He knows where everything is. I wonder if he’s ever been trapped on the mountain like this before.

  “Glen’s a nice guy,” Mitch says. “Local’s think he’s crazy but he just likes his privac
y. Likes to be left alone, you know?”

  “I understand that feeling,” I say.

  “You?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, I bet that’s not true. I bet back in the city you’ve got a handsome man waiting for you to tell him all about your trip into the mountains. When you get home, you’ll cuddle up together under a blanket by the fire with a book.”

  “Hah. I wish. I’m as alone as Glen. Well, I work at the University and I see people, but I don’t know them very well and they don’t know me.”

  “A sweet, beautiful girl like you? I don’t believe it,” Mitch says.

  “I’m hardly beautiful.”

  “I beg to disagree.”

  “Then beg,” I say, then instantly feel shy and turn away.

  Mitch laughs and turns back to building his fire.

  I giggle and try to relax. I can’t believe I just said that.

  Mitch stands back from the fire and looks around for another chair. “You know, the thing about Glen living up here all alone is that he only has one chair.”

  “Oh take the chair, please. This is selfish of me. Please sit down. You did carry me here and build me a fire, after all.”

  “Oh no, I’d never let a beautiful woman sit on the dirty ground. What kind of gentleman would that make me? You sit your pretty self back down and I’ll be fine just here.”

  I sit back down and Mitch drapes a blanket over me. He takes off his hat, jacket, snow pants and boots but stops there. He places his jacket on the ground at the foot of the chair and sits down, leaning his arm on the armrest, looking up at me.

  I wince.

  I’m not used to being looked at. Not like this. I glance around the room looking for something to look at besides his gorgeous eyes, but my own just land on his muscular arm, resting on the chair.

  “I was really impressed when you started to list the wildlife out there. I know you couldn’t see it through the snow but it put a big grin on my face.”

  “Oh no, that wasn’t cool. That’s just what I know.”

  “I found it pretty cool. The landscape is so wonderful around here. I grew up here, near the woods at the foot of the mountain. I’ve always loved it. It’s nice to know a person who seems to appreciate it as much as I do.”