Chapter 1
Harper Shaw was a single snack-getting-stuck-in-a-vending-machine away from an anxiety attack. But hey, that was what happened when you decided nothing in your life sparked joy. You wiped your slate clean like an Etch A Sketch and started over.
A heavy sigh came from the shotgun position of her car.
“I know, I know.” Harper leaned forward a little, squinting into the dark night, broken up only by the white slashes of snow coming down. “We’ve been on the road for twelve hours and you’re hungry and bored. I get it, believe me. Who knew it could snow in Tahoe in July? But hey, it’s pretty, right?”
No response from the peanut gallery, so she reached into the passenger seat for her skinny popcorn, pulling the huge, one-pound bag into her lap to munch on. “The point is, we agreed to stop being Eeyore. It never gets us anywhere or anything but heartbroken and shoved aside. We’re done with that. We’re only looking at the silver linings now. Positive thinking. Gotta dream it to live it and all that crap.” Sure, she was exhausted and frazzled on the inside, but she meant it. She’d just turned thirty and a corner on her life path. If it didn’t bring her joy, then forgetaboutit. And speaking of joy, she found some driving over the majestic summit, taking in the staggeringly high peaks that were nothing but inky outlines against the stormy night sky.
She was pretty sure her beat-up sneaks weren’t going to stand up to this storm, and she didn’t have any sort of warm boots. She reached for her phone to access her notes and start a new list before she remembered—she no longer made lists.
They hadn’t brought her joy. They, along with her ex-almost-fiancé, Daniel, had brought only pressure, unrealistic expectations, and heartbreak.
But she still had Ham. Aka Hambone, her 125-pound, five-year-old perpetual puppy Bernese Mountain rescue. The perfect male, he was loyal, sweet, and always kind. His only fault was that he got carsick—like, really carsick—unless he had his huge head out the window. This meant Harper was currently freezing, even with her heater blasting.
Most of her belongings were in a moving pod that would arrive next week. But the things that mattered most to her were in this car. Ham, of course. Her mom’s recipes—one of only two things she had of the woman she’d loved more than anything. She also had her own beloved and essential baking tools, including her mixer and food processor, not to mention her jar of homegrown, irreplaceable sourdough starter and a tin of her chocolate and mint chip cookies, both out of this world, if she said so herself. She planned to use them to bribe people into wanting to be friends with her, because she could really use some. Or even one.
And then there was the small building she’d rented to open her own bakery. Scary, but as she had zero regrets, also incredibly thrilling. She’d happily walked away from her stressful job at the busiest bakery in all of San Diego, then also walked from things she’d considered her responsibilities, like helping her ex-almost-fiancé through law school or making sure her dad was happy, as she’d promised her mom she’d do. But since Daniel had graduated and dumped her, and her dad had remarried and moved on, she was free.
And looking forward to living life as she wanted—without obligations or anything that preyed on or drained her emotions.
Not that anything could drain them at the moment. Nope, her emotional gas tank was currently on E for Empty.
She looked out at the dark night. She knew the route to the lake, but she needed help from here, so she unmuted her GPS.
“Crikey!” an Australian male voice immediately yelled, startling her so badly the bag of popcorn went flying in the air like the snow on the other side of the windshield.
“Turn left at Sunrise Cove in one hundred feet, mate.”
Past Harper had been amused by the accent, but Current Harper’s nerves were shot and now her popcorn was all over the car.
Ham was tap-dancing on the seat, craning his neck to catch each piece.
“Do not hork up popcorn in my car or you’ll walk the rest of the way.” A hollow, empty threat, because Ham was family. Plus, they were almost there, and excitement had her heart pounding.
What she remembered most about Tahoe was camping with her mom on the lake, and also Sunrise Cove, a small mountain town perched on the north shore near the head of the Truckee River. The memories of the beautiful, woodsy lake and a walkable downtown community with all sorts of shops and places to eat lived in her heart.
“Turn left, mate! And then left again into your final destination, hidey-ho!”
She made the first turn, and her car slid a little, eliciting a startled squeak from her and a surprised “gak” from Ham when the seat belt he wore tightened around him, halting his forward progress. He resettled with what she was pretty sure was an eye roll.
Ham was no stranger to sitting shotgun with her.
She slowed way down for the second left, but it still wasn’t enough. Her tires didn’t grip on the ice, and she slid into the parking lot and right up against one of the huge bushes lining the lot.
Her car came to a sharp stop, but not her pounding heart. She put a hand to her chest and gulped for air as she turned to Ham. “You okay?”
Ham was doing his happy tap-dancing again. He had a piece of popcorn stuck to his forehead and was wagging his tail, because in his mind, stopping meant food.
Food was Ham’s entire reason for existing.
“Okay, okay,” she said, removing the popcorn from his face and then gently pushing him back so she could take stock. She was fine, Ham was fine. Everything was fine.
Well, maybe not everything. Her driver’s-side door was jammed up against some seriously Amazonian-size bushes that didn’t give when she tried to open her door. Damn.
When she’d stopped for gas on the summit half an hour ago, the attendant had taken one look at her two-wheel drive and told her she would need to buy chains or risk getting turned back away by California Highway Patrol. She’d asked him to put the chains on, but he’d wanted an arm and a leg for the service, so she’d decided against them since they weren’t required right at that moment. The attendant swore that they’d be “easy-peasy” to put on herself if she had to.
She was really hoping that was true, because she figured her car wasn’t going anywhere without the traction the chains would provide.
“Scootch,” she said to Ham as she crawled over the console and wedged herself into the seat with him. He took the opportunity to lick her face. “Thanks, buddy.” Reaching past him, she shoved open the passenger door and basically poured herself out to take stock. “Stay,” she said, and gently shut the door. He pushed his big face out the open window and whined at her.
“It’s okay, this’ll be quick.” She hoped, because damn, it was cold.
“Hey, you okay?”
Harper nearly leapt out of her skin at the voice behind her. Heart still pounding from the slide, it threatened to burst out of her chest as she whirled and came face-to-face with a man. A big one. He wore a jacket against the cold, hood up shadowing his face but not hiding the fact that he was tall, broad shouldered, and built for strength. In a swift move that only a girl who was used to walking alone at night between her work and car could be, she had her handy-dandy pepper spray out of her pocket and showed it to him.