Lady Killer (Confessions of a Chick Magnet Book 5) Read online

  She held up her hand this time. “Thanks, I’m good. You hang onto that in case you need it again. But you found a good spot for berries?”

  He turned and pointed off to the right. “You’ll need to divert off of this trail about a mile and there are tons of them, back in the woods.”

  She held her hand at her forehead to block the sun as she peered in the direction he was pointing. “Perfect. I’ll head that way now. Thanks so much for the tip!”

  “Thanks for saving my life!”

  Coco took off in the direction he’d steered her and soon followed some smaller offshoots from that trail in search of the elusive berries. She’d picked this area because bears frequented it—which meant there’d be prime bear food: berries. She was in competition with grizzlies for the things and they tended to snarf them up for themselves far too often, not that she could blame them. But if she found enough of the delectable berries, maybe she could make a huckleberry pie and bring it out to her mom for dessert tomorrow.

  Pretty soon she’d filled her bag with the juicy berries and decided she’d better find her way back onto the trail if she wanted to get to Ptarmigan Falls in the hopes of catching some of the sunset. Although she wouldn’t make it to Iceberg Lake, she hoped to get some beautiful color at that popular stop along the trail. But when she started to retrace her steps, she got disoriented. She’d gone off-piste, which meant there were no trail markers, so she tried to see where her feet had recently compressed the overgrowth on the forest floor, but for the life of her, she couldn’t tell which way she’d come from. She tried to walk toward the brightness in one direction, figuring she’d reach a clearing, but instead she found herself deeper into the woods without a clue.

  She was no rookie when it came to hiking, though, and she knew to keep her wits about her and not panic. She’d be fine. There were plenty of berries in her bag and she’d find her way out in no time. Except that dusk was soon descending, and the forest quickly grew darker. Maybe that “don’t panic” mantra was complete bullshit. With the setting sun, a chill soon settled over the forest. Alone, with no sense of direction, no water or warm clothing, and nothing to eat but a bagful of berries, she wondered if she should’ve dropped some along the way like Hansel and Gretel with the popcorn. Or was it crumbs? What was it they dropped again? Now she’d better hope she didn’t happen upon an old woman who wanted to pop her into an oven. Or worse, a grizzly with a hankering for huckleberry pie.

  Chapter Two

  ELLIOTT Barbour was no sooner out the door and driving down Main Street with a pet pig than he realized he was a damned fool for being talked into adopting a pig, of all things, for his mother. She was going to flip out over it, and not in a good way. Nothing like a little bit of buyer’s remorse to kick in when you’re bringing home a porcine pet for your unsuspecting widowed mom. He needed to rethink this. Evidently this was a dick-driven decision—after all, seeing that gorgeous blond chick toying with her hair when he walked in had set him on a path to make choices based on how hot she was, not on how appropriate (or inappropriate, as the case may be) the adopted animal in question was.

  If he’d entered the animal clinic and a seventy-year-old bald man with missing teeth had tried to dupe him into a pig, he’d have told him no without a second thought. But the way that woman made that kissy-face with the piglet was so damned adorable. He’d have traded places with that pig snout in a heartbeat to get close to those heart-shaped lips. He’d always been a sucker for a girl who loved animals, ever since he was a little kid and his father’s farmhand Delilah would teach him about the animals on the ranch. Delilah was the perfect antidote to his cold father, and he learned plenty about farm living from her that he’d never absorbed from his crotchety dad.

  But this took the cake. Bringing home a pig—a pig!—when he went in for a kitten, all because he was so easily led around by his dick. He needed to reevaluate his priorities. Or maybe he needed to get laid. It had been a while—at least since he’d moved back full-time to Montana—and he’d not been on so much as a date since then. If all it took was a pretty blonde to lure him into bringing home an unwanted pig, then clearly he needed to rethink things a bit.

  Checking his watch, he realized the animal rescue clinic would be closed. He wasn’t going to be able to do anything about the piglet tonight. He figured he’d bring it home, try it on for size with his mother, and more than likely make the call to the woman first thing in the morning that he was bringing the thing back. He felt bad about it—he didn’t want to see this poor creature’s life cut short through no fault of her own, but he also couldn’t carry that burden. A damned pig! He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. What the hell had he been thinking?

  ~*~

  With Oink in the small dog crate he’d picked up at a pet store outside of town, he entered his mom’s place through the back door, slamming the door to the screened-in porch as he walked inside her brand new townhouse.

  “Elliott? That you?” his mom called from upstairs.

  “Ma, come on down. I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

  The more he pondered this, the more he knew this was the stupidest idea he’d come up with in years. He heard her footsteps as she padded downstairs. Pulling Oink out of the crate, he held her up under his chin, her face pointing toward the kitchen entryway. His mother knit her brows as she walked into the room.

  “What the heck are you holding a piglet for?”

  “Her name’s Oink. It’s a surprise—your new roommate!”

  Eleanor Barbour rubbed her brown eyes with her fists, then blinked hard, opening them wide.

  “Mom? Everything okay?”

  She shrugged. “I was just closing my eyes to be sure this wasn’t my imagination. Because I couldn’t fathom there would be a way that my son would show up with a pig for me.”

  Elliott extended his arms out for her to take the pig from his hands. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Ma, just give her a chance. Look at how cute she is.” He lifted the piglet and held it alongside his cheek like they were a matching set.

  “Sorry, not sorry, babe. I lived on a ranch for a long damned time and I am one hundred percent over dealing with farm animals, thanks. Granted we never kept a pig, but I have zero interest in doing that now. Besides, don’t you know those little teacup pigs turn into big fat pigs eventually? That’s how they end up in animal rescue clinics. Or else on someone’s dinner plate as a moist, tender pork chop.” She gave first the pig then her son a little affectionate head-scratch. “I know you can’t be serious. This is a big joke, right?”

  “No, it’s not a joke. I planned to find a kitten for you—I know how much you always wanted an indoor cat, but Dad would never let you keep one—and somehow, I came out with a piglet.”

  His mother burst into laughter that made her graying bob shake. “Oh, honey. I’m afraid to ask, but is it possible a really cute woman talked you into a pig instead?”

  He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. “Maybe.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Perhaps that’s a sign that you need to branch out and get away from your old mom and find some companionship closer to your age.” She gave him a hug. “I appreciate the kind gesture. I know it’s the thought that counts. And yeah, I might be more inclined toward a kitten than a farm animal, so if there’s a chance of swapping it out, I’m game.”

  Elliott shrugged, then tucked the piglet underneath his armpit. So much for his brilliant surprise.

  He pulled out the sheet of paper with the gal’s number and decided to give the adoption woman a call to set in motion the return of little Oink, but his call went straight to voice mail. Then he sat down and Googled the life span of a teacup pig, only to learn it was pretty much as long as a damned cat. What the hell was he thinking, being led by his dick like that? All of a sudden, a cute little allergy-inducing kitten was starting to sound like the purrfect pet. Too late.

  Oh well. Looked like he was s
tuck with the pig till morning. After a late dinner and an hour of trying to calm down a squealing pig, he at last retired for the night, ready for a good sleep.

  But somewhere around four in the morning, he got a call from the team leader of a rescue group he’d started volunteering with that some woman had gone missing from a late-day hike, and he was needed to help spearhead an attempt to find her in the wooded, mountainous terrain.

  Even though it was summertime, it got quite cold at night, and beyond the hazards of freezing in the wilderness came the danger of grizzlies, mountain lions, and other predators. He loaded the pig—now squealing yet again—into the crate and headed toward the rescue command center at the fire station to start assembling a search-and-rescue team. Hopefully, they could get this woman back in a matter of hours. The pig would have to come along for the ride.

  Chapter Three

  WELL, crap. There would be no huckleberry pie tomorrow, that was for sure. That’s because Coco had already eaten a couple of handfuls of the juicy berries, the remaining evidence being the telltale purple stains on her fingertips. Now she was going to have to conserve berries for sustenance and hydration. The only pie would be in her dreams. She was kicking herself for having ditched the water bottle, but at least she’d have some liquid from the berries until she could get herself back home tomorrow morning.

  Coco knew she needed to stay put until daylight, as uncomfortable as that was going to make her. It was already less than pleasant out. The sun had gone down and the temperature had dropped considerably. What had been a comfortable seventy degrees was inching down to a chilly forty-something. At least, that’s what she presumed based on how her teeth were chattering. Through the dense tree canopy, she could make out a sliver of crescent moon, which looked beautiful with Jupiter and Venus nestled in its crook. But it was cold. And she was protected from the elements by only a sleeveless tank and a pair of cargo pants.

  Her primary goal was to stay warm—it would be the most important thing to survive the night. Hell, no one would even know she was missing yet, so she had to at least get through the next twelve hours on her own out here. At some point, Emma would know something was off and try to track her down. Hopefully.

  The wind rustled through the trees as a screech owl sounded in the distance. She only hoped she didn’t start to hear the unmistakable snuffling, throat-reverberating sound of a grizzly nearby. Which would be worse—death by grizzly or hypothermia? It would be a toss-up. At least if a grizzly killed her, she’d live on a bit in infamy—that would make all sorts of headlines.

  Ugh. She tried to think back to if she even noticed the weather forecast and realized she hadn’t a clue if even a cyclone was due to tear through the park. Not that cyclones tended to strike in her area of the country, but still. Today was nice, but tomorrow could be blustery, cold rain—that’s how it was out here in Glacier. She shook her head, trying not to get too far ahead in her thinking. There was nothing she could do to control what was coming anyhow, weather-wise. For now, she had to make some sort of shelter.

  Right about now she wished she’d been a Girl Scout, so she’d have earned some outdoorsy-type badges: how to make a fire by rubbing sticks together, how to not get eaten by a mountain lion. She liked the idea of that badge in particular: maybe a picture with a lion with his mouth open wide and a uniform-clad Girl Scout prying his jaws open with her bare hands. But seriously—how hard could it be to construct some sort of buffer against the elements? It was a matter of common sense, creating a little barrier against wind and something with a lot of leaves on it to keep her warm.

  She fumbled around in the dark for branches with dried leaves strewn across the forest floor and dragged them to an overgrown bush nearby, which would serve as one wall of her lean-to. It was hard finding her way in the dark as she tried to discover anything that would work. At long last, she built up enough of a bed of leaves to sleep on, then covered herself up with more branches and leaves. Ugh, she was going to need a serious shower after this because the rotting leaves reeked of decomposition. She settled her body down on the ground, grateful there were no venomous snakes in Glacier National Park at least. One less thing that could kill her. And she tried not to think about what lurked nearby that could kill her.

  How would she know if there was a mountain lion? Once, she’d read that a hiker who was about to be attacked by a lion realized it was there because of the overwhelming smell of cat pee. Of course, a big cat’s pee would smell even worse than her last kitty Spunky’s litter box. Which made her think of that guy with Oink and that made her feel super guilty. If he wanted to give it back to her, he wasn’t going to get hold of her. Then she started thinking about how handsome he was and maybe she should’ve invited him to go hiking with her so she’d not be alone in the dark shivering with goose bumps skittering up her arms.

  At least if they got stranded together they could have held one another close to conserve body heat. Assuming he’d be willing to do that, what with them being strangers. Though what dude would pass up a chance to be up close and personal with any woman who had a heartbeat?

  She started thinking about how long it had been since she’d been pressed up to a man properly, and then it made her sad. What if she died out here and never got to be with a guy like that again? What a life wasted it would be. Shit. She needed to get out of here ASAP. First thing she’d do once she got back to civilization would be to call and see if he wanted to meet for a drink. Which she would gladly do except she didn’t have his phone number. No doubt by now he, Oink, and his mom were back home, nestled up in front of the television, Oink eating the kernels of popcorn the cute guy tossed toward her intermittently. Perhaps they would have a cozy quilt over their laps, one his mom made for his twelfth birthday, probably baseball-themed. No, maybe it would be wild west, with cowboy hats and cattle and horses. She shook her head; she was already losing her mind.

  What time was it? And why did she not bring her phone with her? Oh, yeah, because it didn’t work out here. And those stupid berries. But at least she’d know the time. And she could have entertained herself with pictures of her favorite animals from the clinic—she kept a file of photos of the ones she grew most attached to.

  Just think—if she’d adopted a dog, maybe he’d be here with her, lying on top of her to keep her warm and saving her from vicious predators. And if she had a phone, she’d have a damned flashlight. Oh God. What if she needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? She’d never find her way back to her makeshift bedroom! She was going to have to cross her legs till morning because no way was she wandering off in the dark for even that. This adventure was fast becoming not all that enjoyable. She wanted to go home and sleep under her blanket. Now!

  Mercifully, exhaustion overtook trepidation, and the hum of August crickets lulled Coco off to sleep. Daybreak came early when there weren’t curtains to keep the sunlight at bay, and Coco could at last relieve herself. Pulling up her pants, she gathered her berries, tried to discern which way the sun was rising, and headed off in that direction.

  I should leave a tip for the maid, she thought as she walked away from her forest bedroom. The joke should have made her laugh, but she was in no mood to laugh.

  Depressingly, the hint of daylight was but a tease, and soon a blanket of fog enveloped the mountain where she was. She had no idea where she was going and vacillated between staying put and hoping for rescue or embarking on a return to wherever it was she came from before things got dire.

  As she sat there for a while, she whistled a few songs out of boredom, though she wasn’t a good whistler. She counted to a hundred in Spanish and English, then decided to challenge herself by alternating one number in Spanish and the next one in English, which only served to frustrate her. It was hard to say if she was more irritated at being stuck in general or because she was stuck with nothing to do and no phone to distract her. After focusing her attention on a spider weaving a web for what seemed like hours, and a few insects skitteri
ng across the forest floor, she started noticing how many sounds became more acute without life’s distractions. A cricket bounded by, and she realized that by tomorrow, his friends would likely be her breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the foreseeable future. The mere thought made her gag.

  She was certain she heard water not far off, no doubt from one of Glacier’s many waterfalls. If she didn’t find water soon, she’d have trouble. Food could wait, but she couldn’t dehydrate or things would go downhill fast. She popped two huckleberries into her mouth, resolving to eat one at a time over a spread-out period to preserve her food supply as long as possible.

  “What’ve you got to lose?” she mumbled, failing to realize that being alone in the foggy, cliff-filled mountains meant her answer could be plenty.

  The sounds led her to what seemed higher up into the hills, which was counterintuitive, but it sure seemed like that was the direction the water was coming from. Frustrated, she couldn’t seem to get out of the forest and into a more open space where she could gauge where she was, maybe even see other hikers in the distance she could shout to for assistance. All she knew was it felt cooler the more she walked, meaning she was headed in the wrong direction.

  Sure enough, she eventually came upon a small clearing only to discover about a foot of crusted snow that was impossible to walk on without collapsing into it. She’d have hypothermia if she kept trudging through this. But before she decided to turn back, she scooped snow into her mouth to rehydrate a bit. She transferred her berries into all of her pockets, then filled the berry bag with more snow, so when it melted a bit she’d have water to drink. A primitive hiker’s water bladder for sure.

  She redirected her efforts on a downward slope, still frustratingly fogged in. After walking for what seemed about two hours, the sound of water seemed closer. Yet without a line of sight, she might as well have been wandering blindly in the dark. The terrain was inhospitable, with lots of rocks and pits in the ground, so after a while, she picked up a large branch to use as a walking stick. If she didn’t find water soon, at least she could find a clearing where she could more easily be discovered. She’d read about someone who was rescued after using rocks to spell out SOS—that should be easy enough to do. Well, shit. She should’ve written SOS in the damned snow. That would’ve been smart.