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27Becca jolted at the memory. At that moment, a small round man waddled across the pebbled drive leading to the inn. She turned at the sound of his shoes crunching on gravel. He wore a floppy, broad-brimmed Australian bush hat, buttoned up on one side, and sherbet-orange Nike's below a pair of khaki cargo pants. He gave Becca a warm smile and a hearty wave and mounted the steps. Becca watched him disappear into the lodge, then turned back to the mountains, steep red flanks dotted with pale foliage, jagged peaks piercing the azure afternoon sky. Two hawks circled over the foothills looking for a meal. The mountains beckoned her. She could get lost in the wild land across the river. He would never find her. “Becca! We could use your help.” All Becca wanted was to be left alone, still she