She grabbed his sleeve, tugging him away from the impromptu fan club, and he followed without protest. What looked like relief flickered across his face as they slipped past the lodge, the crowd’s murmur fading behind them.
They turned a corner and she dropped his arm, her pulse still racing. He turned to her, dusting off his hat. “Thanks for the save. I’m Liam Kingsley, by the way—officially.”
She hesitated but he didn’t look ready to give up, and something in his direct gaze made her want to be honest. Almost.
“Nimue.” Just her first name—a small concession.
She started to step past him, but he moved in front of her, not close enough to be threatening but definitely blocking her escape route. “Nim-way? That’s a pretty name. I’ve never heard it before.”
“You’ve never met me before. I’ll see you around.” She stepped past him.
“Wait—” he started, but he didn’t follow and she didn’t look back, couldn’t afford to, though a part of her ached. Liam’s voice, his easy kindness, lingered in her mind as she fast-walked through the village, back to her bike.
She unlocked the bike and climbed on, turning toward where she’d left her camper. She couldn’t drag anyone else into this—not Lily, not Liam, not even a stranger with a camera.
Nimue adjusted her backpack, the scanner and stickers a quiet reminder of who she had to be. Time to disappear again.
But as she headed into the pines, bike wheels churning against the forest floor, a small, stubborn part of her wished, just for a moment, that it could be different.
THREE
He had to find that bus.
But first, he needed to shake off whatever had just happened with the mystery woman.
Liam’s heart hammered against his ribs as he stood in the lodge’s parking lot, scanning the area for any sign of her. When she’d first called out to him, he’d assumed she wanted to talk about the rescue—another well-meaning stranger eager to praise him for something he didn’t deserve.
But the moment he’d turned to face her, all thoughts of the rescue had vanished. It hadn’t mattered if she wanted to discuss his actions yesterday or something as mundane as what she’d had for breakfast. For the first time in a year, electricity had shot through his chest—a jolt of life in a heart he’d thought had flatlined.
It wasn’t just her beauty that struck him, though she was undeniably attractive. Her olive skin had caught the morning light, and when she’d stepped closer to hand over the lost child, he’d noticed the freckles scattered across her nose. Then there were her high cheekbones, the gentle curve of her jaw. Yup, she was gorgeous. But she also seemed to have a confidence about her, a self-assuredness, the kind that belied her casual attire ofa simple T-shirt, a baseball cap pulled low over her brow, and cutoff shorts that revealed long shapely legs.
At first glance, the youthful outfit made her seem young, almost carefree, but the way she moved told a different story. Her stance was solid, shoulders squared, movements deliberate. She was someone who knew exactly who she was—the kind of confidence Liam used to have, the kind he ached to reclaim.
He’d wanted desperately to see her eyes, to catch a glimpse of the person behind that poised exterior, but her oversized sunglasses had hidden them from him, deepening his curiosity.Nimue.The name rolled through his mind, mysterious and fleeting, much like the woman herself.
The encounter had sparked something inside him—a fragile warmth he hadn’t felt in months. But she was gone, and as much as he wanted to chase after her, to learn more about the woman who’d jump-started something in him, he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Not with the bus situation gnawing at his thoughts, dragging him back to his responsibilities.
Liam shifted mental gears and turned toward one of the ranger trucks parked near the lodge. The National Park Service logo on the door had faded from years of Arizona sun. Some instinct told him something was off with that bus he’d seen yesterday, and he was determined to find out what.
Thirty minutes later, Liam parked beside a faint trail west of the park, his truck’s tires crunching on rocky terrain that hadn’t seen rain in weeks. He stepped out, the air warm now as the late morning sun climbed higher, casting harsh shadows across the canyon’s jagged edge.
The bus was gone, the campsite clean, as if it had simply vanished, a blink.
Maybe even his imagination? But he hadn’t been the only one who’d spotted it.
He inspected the ground, eyes scanning for clues. Tire tracks etched faintly into the baked earth were the only sign anything had been here. Whoever it was took “leave no trace” seriously—almost too seriously. The complete absence of litter or footprints felt deliberate, calculated even, and it set his nerves on edge.
He stepped to the canyon’s edge, the vast expanse stretching out before him a masterpiece painted in stone. The North Rim’s rugged beauty was breathtaking—layered cliffs of red and orange sandstone plunging thousands of feet to the canyon floor, where the Colorado River carved its ancient path. Liam’s gaze drifted east. He could just make out the location of yesterday’s rescue. The pile of fresh rubble at the bottom of the cliff, where the ledge had crumbled, hit him like a fist to the gut. Close—tooclose to losing another life on his watch. Kristen’s terrified eyes flashed through his memory, and he forced himself to look away.
A ribbon of smoke grabbed his attention from below the rim, a thin gray thread rising against the canyon’s earthy palette. He pulled out his binoculars and focused on the source. A cluster of people, maybe a dozen of them, sprawled around a smoldering campfire, surrounded by sleeping bags strewn across the dirt. Tents dotted the area—faded greens and blues blending into the landscape. The few faces he could see appeared to be maybe late teens. Their shoulders were a little too narrow and their chins a little too smooth to be even twenty. Most of the kids looked still asleep.
One lanky guy wearing a black hoodie walked to the fire, adding a log with casual ease. Flames flared briefly, sending up a fresh plume of smoke, and Liam’s jaw tightened. He lowered the binoculars and grabbed his walkie. “Noah, you copy?”
“I’m here.” Noah’s voice cut through the static.
“I’ve got eyes on some campers below the rim, maybe a hundred feet down. Can you check the backcountry permits?”
“On it. Give me a sec.”