Love Finds You in Sun Valley, Idaho Read online

  So it was a scar. Emily faced the hostess so the rafting guide wouldn’t catch her staring. “It’s a big scar.” Emily quickly decided to edit her words. She didn’t want to seem judgmental. Funny thing, though, she was usually the one being judged. “It adds personality. Otherwise he’d be too perfect.”

  The hostess’s jitters seemed to calm. She spoke quietly. “Well, don’t get yourself interested in him. You’re not his type.”

  Emily tucked a stray curl behind her ear. This was the second time she’d heard the warning within the last hour. “Is he single?” She wouldn’t have even thought to ask this before, but with every statement meant to discourage her attraction, she became more fascinated.

  The hostess pressed her lips together. “He is. But like I said, he won’t have anything to do with you.”

  “Huh.” Hadn’t he laughed with her on the raft? And grabbed her arm in an attempt to save her? What was it about her that the Sun Valley residents thought he’d find so detestable?

  “I’ll be right back with some water and rolls.”

  She shouldn’t let it eat at her. “Okay. Only, I don’t…”

  The woman retreated, leaving Emily to the breeze and the birds. A chipmunk chirped from a tree overhead. Then the sound of voices from the lobby filtered through the white noise of the river.

  “I met Wonder Woman.” The pre-pubescent voice had to be Jor-El. Yes! She remembered his name.

  “You did not, dork.”

  “I did too. I shook hands with her, and she is going to leave me her autograph after she eats.”

  Emily tilted her head to rub the tension out of the back of her neck.

  “Prove it, fatty. Go talk to her right now.”

  Emily closed her eyes. Kids could be so cruel. And it wasn’t just one kid’s voice she heard. They were ganging up on Jor-El. So that’s what he meant about being different.

  “I can’t do that. She’s eating.” Jor-El’s voice sounded whiny and desperate.

  “Whatever. You’re afraid, because you really don’t know her.”

  Jor-El sniffed—an I’m-not-going-to-let-you-see-me-cry sniff. “I just met her. And I don’t have to prove it now. I’ll show you the autograph when I get it.”

  Laughter erupted from the inside of the open sliding glass door. It was the laughing-at kind, not the laughing-with.

  “I’ll bet he fakes the signature.”

  Enough was enough. Emily stood up and headed toward the door, the heels of her flip-flops slapping against her feet. She was going to teach those bullies a lesson. She sent up a silent prayer, thanking God she remembered the kid’s name.

  Tossing her half-dry hair out of her face, she stepped into the doorway. The arguing stopped.

  “Hi, boys.”

  All jaws dropped. But the jaw Emily noticed first didn’t belong to a boy. The rafting guide stood at the cashier’s counter watching her.

  Tracen had been ready to interrupt the bullying when Emily Van Arsdale arrived. Her eyes only flicked up to his for a second. Then she turned coldly toward the brats who mocked Jor-El.

  She’d changed from the ripped costume into a floral dress that wrapped around the back of her neck. It matched her pink flip-flops, but not the BSU hoodie she wore over it. Her hair was a rat’s nest of dark curls and not a trace of makeup remained after her swim, but she looked regal standing there. He briefly wondered why she wasn’t sitting with pretty boy Jack Jamison. Then she spoke and gave him a whole new set of questions to wonder about.

  “Jor-El,” she began, speaking with familiarity, “would you like to join me for lunch?”

  Her right cheek twitched as if she were trying not to smile. So the kid wasn’t lying when he said he’d met her.

  Jor-El jumped up from the couch in front of the fireplace. “I would love to, Emily.”

  Emily? Not Ms. Van Arsdale? Not Wonder Woman?

  Emily lowered her eyes to the boys still on the couch. “Jor-El is a great name, isn’t it? Very strong and unique. He knows who he is, and he doesn’t have to make fun of others to feel better about himself.”

  Ouch. The brats wouldn’t likely forget that lecture. It reminded Tracen of the end of his favorite cartoons when he was a kid. G.I. Joe would show up and give a short lesson in tooth brushing or talking to strangers. And knowing is half the battle.

  The actress paused to wait for Jor-El to walk across the room toward her. Her eyes met Tracen’s again. He gave a salute, still thinking of G.I. Joe. The actress’s lips quirked up, but it wasn’t quite a full-on smile. She seemed to study him before turning and looping her arm through Jor-El’s.

  The kid didn’t know how lucky he was. And the woman wasn’t what he would have expected.

  She gave all her attention to the boy. “Would you like my rolls? The hostess said she was bringing me some, but I can’t eat them.”

  Darn, a Hollywood diet. Maybe she wasn’t that different from his ex, after all.

  Chapter Four

  The night of sleep brought the rest she needed. But it also left Emily stiffer than she expected. She rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder before climbing into the rafting van.

  Today they would be shooting on more treacherous waters downriver. The thought sent a delicious chill up Emily’s spine. Her mother would be proud of the way she had learned to manipulate her body in a fall.

  The other actors climbed into the van. Rafter Boy took the wheel. Today he was definitely aloof, the way Braid Lady and Hostess had predicted, but at the restaurant yesterday, he’d saluted her. Maybe the gesture was empty. She had to find out for sure.

  Sitting behind him, she couldn’t catch his eye in the rearview mirror because he was wearing sunglasses again. She slipped her own onto her nose and, for a brief second, thought she spotted the same little smirk on his face that she had given him yesterday—the look that said, “I know you’re watching me from behind your shades.” He was right. But had she been?

  The drive took them back the way she had driven yesterday. Sun Valley was located close to the Salmon River and an abundance of alpine lakes. Though Dad had never taken her snow skiing in Sun Valley, she’d once gone on a youth group wakeboarding trip to Redfish Lake. The memories were some of her favorites.

  Water was a powerful substance. It could bring life or destruction. Living water. River of life. His rule will extend from sea to sea. Water was actually what covered the earth on the first day God created it. Interesting. She’d never put all the verses on water together before. She’d have to do a Bible study on it, since it seemed to be a current theme in her life.

  The van rumbled to a stop. She glanced into the rearview mirror to find another pair of sunglasses already reflected there. Maybe he was looking at her, maybe he wasn’t. But the chill that ran up her back earlier turned warm.

  “Let’s go, people!” Bruce pulled open the van door. “Have a once over with makeup, then get down to the river.”

  Emily followed the others out. Rafter Boy stopped each one by one to check their life vests, which their characters had conveniently found stored in the raft cooler the next day. He sauntered over as Emily climbed out.

  “Are you cinched up tight?” he asked.

  Emily paused for inspection. “I think I’ll be fine. But you might want to double-check Jack’s vest.”

  The guide gave a little snort as his deft fingers squeezed each of the clasps across her torso. Emily looked up at him. He was taller then she remembered, but then she hadn’t stood face-to-face with him before. He slipped fingers underneath the vest above each of her shoulders and lifted. It stayed in place.

  “You’re good to go,” he commented without making eye contact —or would that be glasses contact?

  So maybe Hostess was right. He wasn’t interested. But that’s what Emily found so intriguing.

  He turned to leave. At least she could be polite. “Thanks, Sonny.”

  Sonny paused and turned back toward her. Oh, no. His name wasn’t Sonny. What was it?


  “Sonny?” An eyebrow lifted above the frame of his Oakleys. “I thought only old women used that term.”

  Shoot. “Um, what was your name again? I remember it had the word sun in it because you’re allergic to the sun.”

  He carelessly pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed a life vest of his own. “So you know what I’m allergic to, but you don’t know my name?”

  He made her sound stuck-up. Like she didn’t care to remember people’s names, only their shortcomings. Well, she’d definitely remember that scar along his ribcage, though she didn’t consider it a shortcoming at all. He had her all wrong. “I remember your allergy because of the cute way you were sneezing yesterday. But I can’t seem to remember your name because I’ve never heard it before. So can you refresh my memory…Sonny?”

  A deft hand ran through the sun-bleached strands of his sandy brown hair. “I suppose I’ve been called worse. And we haven’t really been introduced.” His hand continued through his hair to extend towards Emily. “The name is Tracen.”

  “Tracen.” She slipped her smaller hand into his. How could she forget a name like Tracen? It was strong and unique, just like Jor-El. But she should still connect it to another word besides sun—just in case. “Like tracing.”

  Without thinking, she pulled her hand out of his and reached toward his scar. Her finger traced the line down the muscles covering his ribs.

  Tracen’s hand caught her soft one, and he removed it from his skin. What was she thinking? Well, he probably knew exactly what she was thinking. And now she had him thinking the same thing. “Can you remember my name now?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” She snatched both her hands toward her chest and clasped them over her heart. “I’m sorry.” She apologized for the touch but continued infringing on his personal life. She motioned to the scar with a nod. “What happened?”

  Tracen gave what he hoped resembled a distracted shrug. “Rafting when I was younger. I got cocky and thought I could handle a class six.”

  Emily nodded, and he felt her studying him through her glasses. “So that’s why you’re so uptight about safety.”

  Uptight? He’d never been called uptight before. “You’ve figured me out.”

  “Actually”—the actress crossed her arms—“there’s something I can’t figure out.”

  Tracen had a sudden urge to retreat. First, she was making up nicknames for him. Then she was touching him. Now she was asking deep questions. Did he mention she had touched him? What next? “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Emily quirked her full lips.

  She probably had this effect on all men. He knew Jack Jamison was already bewitched. This was not what Tracen needed.

  “See, I had two different people tell me yesterday that you would not be interested in me. Now why would they both say that? Just because I told them I think you’re adorable. Maybe I think you’re adorable like a puppy dog. Yet they acted like they needed to protect you from me.”

  He didn’t know exactly who Emily had talked to, but he knew exactly why they would respond that way. And it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about.

  Emily now played with her springy ponytail. Was she nervous? Did she really think he was puppy dog adorable, or was it more than that? Did it matter?

  Before he could respond, Emily continued. “What is it about me that would automatically get my name crossed off your to-date list?”

  Tracen ran a hand across his mouth to hide a smile. Yes, he was smiling. It was funny how she phrased the question. What was not funny was his answer. He looked down at her and tried to think of a different excuse. Man, she was short. His answer to her question came out of desperation. “Your height.”

  Emily didn’t move. He guessed she was just as stunned as he was by what he had said. Too short? Now there was a lame excuse. Abort! Abort!

  Tracen turned to walk down the path the way everybody else had already gone.

  Emily’s small strides rushed to match his. “Height? You’re telling me everybody in town knows you don’t date short people?”

  Tracen gave a noncommittal toss of his head. “Weird, isn’t it?” It was more than weird. It was untrue. But hopefully it would keep her away.

  Emily rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, it is. You’re prejudiced.”

  That stopped him. “Not really. I don’t hold anything against you. I simply think that when God made the perfect woman for me, he made her my size.” Oh, now he was pulling God into this. He sent a short prayer up to heaven. My bad.

  Emily’s glasses came off. “So you’ve never been attracted to a petite woman?”

  Her eyes bored into him like lasers. And as much as he wanted to tear his gaze from hers, she held him entranced. What had she asked? And why were the apples of her cheeks starting to grow larger the longer he stared at her? She had amazing cheekbones. The perfect size to stroke his thumb over…

  Perfect size? Isn’t that what he had just said she was not?

  Emily tilted her head. “I think I have my answer.”

  Chapter Five

  Emily’s cheeks hurt as she tried to control her smile. The guy was attracted to her all right. Only he wasn’t pursuing her the way most men did. For some reason she found that fact as refreshing as a dip in the river.

  “What?” Tracen’s voice held a hint of amusement. “You don’t have enough lovestruck fans already? You want me to join in and declare my adoration?”

  His sarcasm was delightful. “Maybe.”

  “Emily Van Arsdale!” Char’s commanding voice called from her makeup station nearby. “What is taking you so long, girl? Do you want to delay another day’s shooting schedule?”

  Emily glanced over her shoulder to mentally calculate how much time she had before the makeup artist dragged her away by her hair. Subtlety wasn’t one of Charlene’s strong suits.

  She grinned at Tracen. Dang those dark glasses. They kept her from reading his expression.

  Tracen finally gave a nonchalant shrug. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.” As he stepped past her, he added, “Anyway, you know you’re cute. Why do you need to hear me say it?”

  But he did say it, and the words warmed Emily like sunshine. He thought she was cute. She wanted to giggle, which was definitely out of character. She watched Tracen strut away.

  Charlene’s face appeared in front of Emily. “What are you smiling about?”

  Emily pressed her lips together but couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from turning up. Oh well. She might as well tell Char why. “Tracen said I’m cute.”

  “Pshah!” Char waved a hand with attitude. “Cute? Babies are cute. Girl, let’s get you glammed up.”

  Emily followed obediently and sat down in a swivel chair completely out of place in the forest surrounding them. The foundation Char spread on her face had the consistency of frosting and smelled dry and sterilized. If this was what it took to be glamorous, she’d go for cute any day.

  “Char?”

  “We’ll use waterproof mascara. I don’t want you to have raccoon eyes when you get wet.”

  “Uh, great.” Emily watched Tracen direct the placement of the raft at the river’s edge. “Do you think Tracen is too tall for me?”

  “What? Who’s too tall?” Char rummaged through her makeup brush collection. “You’re talking about the rafting guide again?”

  “He said he doesn’t date petite women.”

  Char paused. “You asked him out?”

  Emily laughed but wouldn’t meet Char’s eyes. “No.”

  “Ah!” Char clapped, causing powder to puff up from the fluffy brush in her hands. “But you want him to ask you out. This is fantastic. My little Emily finally has a crush on a boy.”

  Emily reached out to hold her friend’s hands still. “Stop. You didn’t even answer my question.”

  Charlene went back to work, rubbing the soft bristles across Emily’s forehead and chin. “What question was that? You wanna know if the rafting guide is too tall for you? Of course not. Look at
Will and Jada.”

  Will Smith. The makeup artist read too many tabloids. Or maybe she’d actually met the couple and “glammed” them up.

  Emily’s glance returned to the water. Now Tracen was talking to Jack—not the best combination. She hoped Jack wasn’t trying to stake claim to her again.

  Char followed her line of sight. “He is ruggedly handsome.”

  A sigh escaped on Emily’s breath.

  Char must have felt the heavy exhale as she swiped on Emily’s lip gloss. “Uh-oh. What are you thinking? You gonna buy some platform shoes to make yourself taller?”

  Emily shot her friend a wry smile. “Yes, I’m going to wear platform shoes on the raft.”

  Char chuckled. “Why not? They already have you in a wedding dress. You can do anything in the movies these days.”

  Bruce’s bullhorn interrupted the conversation. “Attention please. I need my actors. Gather round.”

  Emily rose from her chair and headed toward the director. Jack and Tracen came from the other direction, Jack’s arm wrapped up and over Tracen’s shoulder. That was unexpected. She tried to catch Tracen’s attention to share the humor in his situation, but as soon as his gaze met hers, he turned and shot up the embankment. Emily watched in confusion until Bruce’s voice drew her attention. Tracen was probably just after another safety device of some sort.

  “Emily? Are you ready?” Bruce asked.

  Emily squared her shoulders, adjusting her mindset to the day’s activities. “Yes.”

  Bruce pointed out over the water. “See that first peak of white-water? After the raft hits it, I want you to fall out to the right side. Just make sure you arch back so it looks like you are out of control, then hinge at the hips so you land fanny first.”

  “Right.” Emily studied the location on the water, imagining herself going through the moves.

  “Jack’s stunt double will jump out after you,” Bruce continued. “Just act as if you’re drowning, and let him drag you to shore.”

  Emily nodded at the stunt double. Jack wouldn’t even have to get wet until the next scene. My hero.