“Hell no,” Matt said. “You’re walking.”

Josh chuckled but locked his door and buckled in. “Man, you are so gone over her. You ran out of there like a scared little girl and nearly forgot your wing man.”

“You suck as a wing man. And I was heading out because I got a call. Climber down.”

Josh’s smile faded. “Injuries?”

“Bad. That’s all I know.”

“Hit it.”

“You had a beer,” Matt said.

“Never got a chance to even take a sip, so I’m good.”

Matt nodded and hit the gas, heading toward Widow’s Peak while Josh pulled up a GPS of the area.

“I know exactly where we’re going,” Matt said grimly. “The guys we chased off of the face last week went back tonight for a moonlight hike.”

“Shit.”

Matt turned off the highway and spared Josh a glance. “And since when are you Fred Astaire?”

Josh shrugged. “Pretty girl in my arms. What’s not to like?”

Matt ground his teeth. Amy was a pretty girl. She was his pretty girl.

Except she wasn’t.

He’d caught the look she’d given him tonight as he’d left. In spite of the fact that he’d been an asshole, she was concerned. Worried.

About him.

When she looked at him like that, all sweet eyed and tenderhearted, it did something to him. She’d looked at him like she wanted to take care of him, like she wanted to make it all better for him, and for a beat, he’d wanted her to do just that.

Which was not going to happen. He didn’t need anyone to take care of him.

“And you told me to find a woman,” Josh said. “Remember? You said-”

“Not that woman.”

“Well you should have been more specific,” Josh said in such a reasonable tone that Matt wanted to wipe the floor with his face.

Knowing it, Josh laughed softly, which Matt ignored because his phone was going crazy. First dispatch checking his ETA, then his boss wondering what the fuck a group of climbers were doing on Widow’s Peak at ten o’clock at night, in an area supposedly closed off to the public.

Matt would like to know the same thing.

“Did you get an injury update?” Josh asked when he’d hung up.

“No one’s on scene yet. S &R are en route, too.” Matt took the fire road that would bring them to the same midpoint where they’d found the climbers before. Once again, they had to hike the last quarter mile in, this time in the dark.

At the cliff’s edge, two guys were huddled, glancing anxiously down. A third had attempted to climb over to rescue the fourth and had gotten stuck, terrified, about ten feet down.

Much farther down, thirty feet or so, was the fourth, lying still on a ledge.

Trevor Wright.

Search and rescue arrived just as Matt and Josh did. Everyone mobilized quickly, and in ten minutes, they had the first climber up. He had no injuries. Ten minutes more and they had the still-unconscious Trevor on a stretcher belaying him up with ropes, where he was then immediately airlifted out with Josh on board, looking grim.

Matt headed back to his truck alone and drove to the station, where he wrote up his report before heading to the hospital. He was furious, at himself. He’d known those kids would be trouble and should have found a way to keep them off the mountain.

Unfortunately, the update on Trevor wasn’t good. He was in critical care, and his very connected father was already making noises about suing the state, the county, the forest service, and Matt as well. Everyone and anyone over his son’s injuries.

The North District station was going to have a battle on its hands, and for Matt, it felt like Chicago all over again.

He grabbed an hour of sleep and by dawn was heading out with Sawyer to talk to the three uninjured climbers. Each of them vehemently denied that drugs or booze had been involved in the previous night’s climb.

Matt could only hope that the tests run on Trevor proved otherwise. He and Sawyer had just pulled away from the last climber’s house when Matt’s boss called, reaming him for the entire fiasco from start to finish.

“What?” Sawyer asked when Matt hung up and swore. “The kid take a turn for the worse?”

“No,” Matt said. “In fact, he woke up long enough to claim that none of them touched the gate, that they honestly believed the trail was open.”

“Bullshit.”

“Gets worse,” Matt said. “He also says that I put my hands on him that day I chased him off the peak. That I pushed him.”

“Little dick syndrome,” Sawyer said. “Fucking punks.”

“Yes but he’s also a punk with a lawyer, who’s already all over it.”

“Fine,” Sawyer said. “You have Josh as a witness that you didn’t touch any of them.”

“There’s still going to be a formal inquiry. I’m going to have to go in front of the board to explain how this happened on a closed trail, a trail I shut down myself.”

Sawyer shook his head and spoke grimly. “They’re going to blame you for minors vandalizing the gate locks and sign, then trespassing on a closed trail while possibly under the influence. Fuckers.”

“They’re going to do what they have to in order to resolve this without a lawsuit.” Matt punched Josh’s number into his cell. “Talk to me.”

“He’s lawyered up.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Matt said. “There’s going to be an inquiry. This is a great time to spill about Wright being under the influence of something.”

“Shit, Matt.” Josh let out a long breath. “You know I can’t tell you that. He’s a minor. He’s got all sorts of rights.” He paused. “But per protocol, tests have been sent to the labs.”

Okay, Matt could read between the lines on that one. There was the hope that in case of a lawsuit, the results could be subpoenaed. But hope wasn’t good enough. Hope wasn’t going to save his ass. He disconnected and swore again.

Sawyer took a look at Matt’s face and whipped his SUV around.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re taking me to the site,” Sawyer said. “We’re going on a little evidence scavenger hunt.”

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Matt climbed up to Widow’s Peak and scoured the area. He and Sawyer also searched the meadow floor just beneath the cliffs, where they found five empty bottles of beer and a roach clip. Sawyer bagged them up for DNA evidence.

“Christ,” Matt said, the situation hitting him. “This could actually go to trial.”

“I don’t think it’ll get that far,” Sawyer said. “These guys are all about the bragging. Trust me, someone will open his mouth about attempting Widow’s Peak, and then we’ll nail them for trespassing, underage drinking, and whatever else we can get them for.”

Matt hoped he was right.

The next night, after a long shift, Amy drove toward home, then made an unexpected detour.

A big one.

She headed toward the mountain and parked in front of Matt’s cabin. His truck wasn’t there, and she didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. For the third night in a row, he hadn’t come to the diner for food, and this time she knew why. All day long she’d heard the gossip about the fallen climber and Matt’s supposed negligence. She glanced at the bag she’d packed up, the one sitting on the passenger seat, and called herself all kinds of a fool.

Matt didn’t need her to look after him. He was a big boy. But she got out of the car and then found herself standing on his porch, trying to figure out if she should leave the food for him or if that would attract bears, when a truck drove up.

Matt, of course.

Their eyes met as he got out of his vehicle, and her tummy quivered. He was still in uniform, looking dusty, hot, exhausted, and like maybe he could use a good fight.

“Hey,” she said softly when he hit the porch.

“Hey.” He unlocked his door then turned to her. “I’m not much company tonight.”

“You’ve had a bad day.”

He let out a sound that didn’t hold any mirth. “Yeah. A bad day.” He stepped inside, leaving the front door open.

Not exactly an invite, and she paused, knowing damn well that he clearly wanted to be alone. She recognized the need, since it was how she felt most often.

Sometimes being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be…

He’d said that to her, all those nights ago on the mountain at Sierra Meadows. And he’d been right.

So she stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

He glanced over. Obviously he’d expected to find her gone because he raised a brow at the sight of her.

“Want to tell me about it?” she asked.

“What, the gossip train didn’t come through the diner today?”

“Yeah, and I’m the type to get on that train,” she said dryly. “How’s the guy who fell?”

“In ICU, but it looks like he’s going to make it.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “He shouldn’t have been on the peak. I had the trail closed off. I chased him and his friends out of there less than a week ago, but they came back.”

There was something in his tone that caught her attention. Self blame. “Matt, it’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, it is.” He let out a long, jagged breath. “My district. My problem.”

She’d never known anyone like him, so willing to be in charge, and just as willing to take the responsibility that went with that. “Come on, give yourself a break here. You couldn’t have known those guys would go back on that climb.”

“I knew.”

She moved closer. “Well then you also know that you couldn’t have stopped them. You’re just one man. How are you supposed to keep the entire area patrolled?”

“It’s my job to figure out a way.”

She ran a hand down his tense back. “God complex much?” she teased.

He moved away from her touch, and while she tried to be okay with that, he spoke again. “I fucked up, Amy. And it’s not the first time.” He strode into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Yanking out a beer, he stared at it, then set it back in the fridge and grabbed a soda. He opened it and handed it to her, then took another for himself. “You asked why I came here from Chicago.”