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Skye

By Heather Gray

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CHAPTER 1

Skye Blue was flying home.
Home.
What a strange word.
Too many years had passed since she’d last set foot in the vibrant but close-knit community of Rainbow Falls, Montana.
They hadn’t been horrible years. Mostly. She’d had a roof over her head and food to eat. She’d gotten an education, been given a job. Life had been stable in Idaho, and that counted for something.
Then why, oh why, did leaving it all behind and running away from Boise to Rainbow Falls lift such a suffocating burden from her shoulders?
Or even better, why couldn’t she breathe to begin with?
The only wrinkle in her escape plan was the man sitting next to her.
Her hometown was nestled in the Bitterroot Mountains of Montana, and those mountains — beautiful though they were — created some geographical limitations. As a result, Rainbow Falls boasted only a small airport. And small airports only took small planes. Small, as in seven rows of four seats divided by a center aisle – two seats on each side.
And because fate wanted to punish her for some unknown slight, Skye was trapped in a seat between the window and one of the most formidable people she’d ever encountered.
With one glance in his direction, her protective cloak of confidence fell away. She was once again the small girl watching in terror as police invaded her mother’s home for the first time.
Prickles raced across her skin, heating it from the inside out.
Skye clenched her eyes closed. She could do it. She could block the image running rampant in her mind’s eye. Her hands fisted around her seatbelt. It was the only thing she could hold onto, the only thing to anchor her to this moment instead of the past.
Eventually, her breathing returned to normal and she opened her eyes. The view outside the window drew her attention. The mountains. They had mountains in Idaho, but nothing compared to these. Mountains were vast and immovable. Which only served to remind her of the man sitting next to her.
“What brings you to Rainbow Falls?” His voice held the scratch of a smoker, but the telltale odor was absent.
“Um…” So much for avoiding conversation.
“I’ve never seen such a packed plane heading into our little corner of the world before. Rainbow Falls is growing and all, but still… Makes me wonder what’s going on that I missed.” His voice rumbled a bit too close to her ear for comfort.
Skye cast a glance at the man beside her. Ice blue eyes met her gaze. Wow.
Men were not supposed to be attractive and menacing at the same time.
Oh, who was she kidding?
Scary. He was scary.
Scary like he might, at any moment, whip out a butterfly knife and use it with lightning speed and deadly accuracy. Everything about his appearance screamed danger.
In fact, he probably wore an entire collection of knives hidden away on his person. How had he managed to sneak through airport security? What if he’d tucked a gun into the waistband of his faded jeans?
Of course, the weight of a gun would pull his pants down. Unless they were properly fitted. He wouldn’t be able to wear saggy pants.
Skye stared at the floor in order to avoid examining the placement of his jeans. Talk about giving the wrong impression.
Was she honestly considering the possibility that the man sitting beside her had an arsenal of weapons stored on his person?
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“I… You’re not. I… I’m running away.” She lifted her eyes to meet his again.
His eyes… What was it about them? Her earlier panic somehow became silly when she looked into his eyes.
A masculine eyebrow went up. Funny how she hadn’t seen those brows before when she’d tried to determine his hair color.
He angled toward her and held out his right hand. “My name’s Sam Madison, and I work with runaways for a living. In a way.”
Sam. Hm. It suited him. But she would have named him ‘Braxton the Butcher,’ but then, what did she know?
She really should stop naming people before she’d spoken to them. Especially if her imagination had the man in question concealing guns in baggy pants and hiding knives in all his pockets. What was next? Toting a grenade launcher onto the plane?
She shook his hand. “Skye Blue. Nice to meet you.”
His other eyebrow lifted. “So, you’re from Rainbow Falls then.”
Heat climbed her neck. “Guilty as charged.”
“A Rainbow Girl. You can’t hide it with that name.”
Rainbow Girl. She hadn’t heard that term in more years than she could say. “It’s been a long time since I last visited the Falls. Do they still call us that?”
“A friend told me about the Rainbow Girls, but you’re the first one I’ve actually met. Where did the nickname come from?”
Emmaline White… “Um, I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.” Not right now, anyway. “Why don’t you tell me about your trip to Rainbow Falls. What landed you here on this plane with me?”
Huh. She was talking to the scary man. In a real conversation. With words and everything.
Going home might be good for her after all.
“Well, Skye Blue, like I said. I work with runaways. They wouldn’t like being called that, but sometimes it’s true. I manage a shelter for homeless military vets in Rainbow Falls.”
“You don’t look like…” Her words faded away as laughter flashed in his eyes. “I’m not sure what I intended to say, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t politically correct.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up. “I won’t take it personally. I’d always rather someone be honest with me than proper. So, I don’t strike you as someone who helps the homeless? Or who can start and run a non-profit?”
A chuckle escaped before she could stop it. “Neither, I suppose. Does Rainbow Falls have a large indigent population? I don’t remember it being an issue when I lived there, but… It’s been a few years.”
Sam’s hands were clasped loosely in his lap. The way he’d angled himself in his seat gave her more room.
Skye breathed easier when she had more space in which to breathe.
And that made his answer a whole lot more interesting.
“The City Council has a whole slew of anti-vagrancy laws to discourage homeless people from staying too long in the area. Some outdoor magazine did a feature on us. Called Rainbow Falls ‘The Hidden Gem of the West.’ Talked about our hiking trails, waterfalls, horseback riding, fishing. And that was just the first paragraph. Next thing you know, we’re packed to the gills with tourists who want to experience the Hidden Gem, and expedition companies who want to capitalize on them. The media attention has turned your hometown into a bit of a mountainside metropolis. And unfortunately, panhandlers would be a blight on the tourist-friendly atmosphere the Council wants to foster, so the homeless aren’t exactly welcomed. I try to help make sure that they aren’t just rounded up and shipped off to the next county. Or worse.”
“Why only vets? They can’t be the only homeless who show up in town.”
Sam gave her a half-shrug. “There’s another shelter on the other end of Rainbow Falls. They take men, women, and families. They were struggling to meet the need when I came along.”
“That many homeless?”
“Now, yes. But when I started the shelter it was more about the other folks not being able to cope with some of the men who crossed their threshold. My desire to serve vets, and the other shelter’s inability to provide the specialized services vets need and deserve, made the Falls a perfect fit for me.”
Rainbow Falls had changed more than she’d imagined. “What drew you to vets?”
“My skill set makes me suited to helping vets, and that’s where my heart is, too, so it works out.”
The image of him holding a butterfly knife passed through her mind’s eye again. She scooted closer to the window. “What skills would those be?”
Compassion rolled off him in waves, which didn’t make sense. Barely one thought ago, she’d been imagining him flipping a knife around.
She was losing her mind.
“For starters, I served with the Marines, so I can relate to vets on a level not everyone else can. I understand combat and the scars it leaves.” He touched a raised line of flesh near his left ear. “The physical ones, and the emotional ones.”
“Shared history is important in business, but I’m not sure it counts as a skill.”
His chin dipped the barest bit. “I don’t think of what I do as a business, but you make a fair point. I’m a certified drug counselor, too, though the City Council passed a mandate prohibiting any addicts from taking up residence on the property.”
“Can they do that?”
“It’s their town. They call the shots. If I have a verifiable reason to believe someone’s using, I’m allowed twenty-four hours to transport the individual to the nearest VA hospital.”
“Yeah, but that’s… I mean… It’s been a while, but that’s over three hours away, isn’t it?”
Sam nodded. “I had to agree to their terms, or Samaritan’s Reach never would have seen the light of day. And it’s not as bad as it sounds. The hospital’s decent and it’s better than jail.”
He was so unlike her. “You’re not the type to worry, are you?”
“‘And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?’”
Skye blinked. The words rang a distant bell somewhere in her past.
Sam Madison didn’t look like a man who worked with homeless people, sure. But he looked even less like a man who quoted the Bible.

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