Her Mountain Man by Cindi Myers Read Free Book Online

emotion. Whatever brief chemistry had passed between she and Paul, it wasn’t permanent or fatal. She’d step back into her reporter’s shoes and get this story done. And Paul would be just another interview subject—more memorable than most, but not the kind of man who would change her life.

    P AUL SENSED THE CHANGE in Sierra’s attitude. The easy warmth of her manner vanished, and was replaced by the cool, all-business demeanor she’d greeted him with yesterday. “We should get back to the car now,” she said. Not waiting for an answer, she turned and started back the way they’d come.
    “Wait,” he called. “You haven’t seen the waterfall.”
    “I don’t need to see the waterfall.”
    He hurried after her, Indy at his heels. “Be careful,” he called. “If you take a wrong turn you might end up at the bottom of a mine shaft.”
    She said nothing, but slowed down.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked when he caught up with her.
    “Nothing,” she said. “I just think we should get back to the Jeep and get on with our interview.”
    “Wait a minute.” He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop. “Something happened just now and I want to know what it was.”
    “You’re imagining things.” She tried to move around him, but he refused to give way.
    “We were getting along great, like friends. Now it’s almost like you’re angry with me.”
    “I’m not angry with you. I don’t even know you.”
    “The whole point of this outing was for the two of us to get to know each other better. And I thought we were making pretty good progress. Until we started talking about your dad.” As soon as he said the words, he felt sick to his stomach with guilt. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been an idiot.”
    She looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
    “I’ve forgotten you’re in mourning,” he said. “Because of me, you have to relive the pain of your father’s death all over again, and here I am, asking you all these questions.”
    “You don’t have anything to feel guilty about,” she said calmly. “I mourned my father a long time ago. Long before he died.”
    She moved past him again, and this time he let her go. He wasn’t sure he believed her when she said she didn’t mourn Victor. When she’d told Paul about the hikes she and her father had taken when she was a child, he’d heard the sadness in her voice. Maybe she didn’t miss the father who’d been away climbing mountains, but some part of her grieved for the man who’d been with her on those childhood hikes.
    Paul wished he could have known that man. To him, Victor Winston was the larger-than-life figure who’d inspired him and encouraged him. The movies Victor made of his expeditions had introduced Paul to the mountains and shown him the possibilities of a world far different from the one in which he lived every day. That was the figure whose footsteps he’d set out to trace when he climbed McKinley.
    To come upon Victor’s body, so small and fragile, light enough to carry down on his back, had been a shock. It reduced Paul’s own accomplishments, made them less meaningful. Every time he climbed a mountain, he thought about staring down death, but finding Victor had been a different kind of confrontation with the end. He’d spent years comparing himself with his hero, inspired to live up to Victor’s achievements. Now, he had to wonder if he’d end up like the man he’d admired—dying slowly on a mountainside, all alone.
    The idea shook him still. Would Victor say it had all been worth it? It was a question Paul had wanted to ask Sierra.
    He remembered again the light in her eyes when she’d talked about hiking with her father, having him all to herself.
    Maybe it was guilt, or some latent desire to connect with his hero, but Paul felt protective of Sierra. She might be a tough city girl, but he’d glimpsed a vulnerability in her that touched him. These past few hours had changed his feelings about her visit and