Chasing Mountains

By Bethany Strobel

"Brilliant and charmingly witty."

It’s been two long years since Jax and Jillian had a wild fling in her parents’ rental cabin over Christmas break, and almost a year since they've seen each other.

Jax and Jillian have kept in touch, but life has taken them in different directions. When Jillian decided to take two more years of college for her Veterinarian degree, and Jax lost his Uncle - leaving him the sole heir to a sprawling ranch in Montana - things just didn’t work out for them.

Recently graduated and with hundreds of hours of interning behind her, Jillian is hard pressed to find a job in the dwindling economy. When interviewer after interviewer turns her away, she fears she will never be able to pay her parents back all the tuition costs, and she's forced to move back in with them.

So, when Jax turns up out of the blue at her parents' house and fails to ask her if she’d like the position on his ranch as full-time head Vet, she decides to take things into her own hands and demands he hire her for the job that just happens to be 1700 miles across the country.

Is Jillian leaving behind family and friends for a job, or a chance to rekindle their love? Find out how their story continues in Chasing Mountains: Country Roads Romance

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bethany Strobel
• Release date: Oct 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463770757

Bethany Strobel

Recently, my family and I moved to our happy place, the beach, and we couldn't feel more blessed. In between being a full time mommy to two wonderful children who never cease to amaze me, and being a wife to the bet hubby ever, I try to squeeze time to write into my hectic life everyday. Sometimes, I find myself in full author mode and write into the wee hours of the morning. A special thanks goes out to my hubby for putting up with my artistic spurts. I pour my heart into my writing and fall in love with each and every one of my characters as i hope you will fall in love with them too. As the Destiny Series continues to grow, I will also be branching out into the MG/YA world and starting a project close to my heart. I hope you enjoy the content. Thanks for stopping by, tell a fellow reader, and drop me a line in the contact page.

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Titles

Tennessee Tinsel

Chasing Mountains

Chasing Fireflies

Dark Fae Dreaming

The Fae Guardian

Lost Fae Kiss

Forged in Fire

Pandora’s Hope

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Chapter One - Jillian

There’s this moment in every relationship when you know whether you’re destined to be together forever or whether you’re doomed to fail. I imagine it’s a lot like bungee jumping. Like you’re going to do it, and it will either be epic, or you’ll be the one in ten that fails and dies. Only, I wouldn’t know for sure; because there’s no way I’d ever go bungee jumping. Statistics suck, but I’m a sucker for them. I wonder if Marcus even knows about my statistic addiction?

I look across the pristine, white-clothed table in the high-end dinning establishment, with its posh settings and expensive crystal-ware. Candles surround us lending a romantic quality to the atmosphere, and I feel leagues out of my element. I’m a simple girl. And this is too much. From the look on his face, I can tell Marcus is about to do something we’ll both regret — like propose, if his friend was being truthful when he’d slipped up earlier today — and I can’t for the life of me see myself with this man forever. I mean, he doesn’t even know me, not the real me anyway.

Taking a deep breath and a large gulp of wine, I fidget with the fork beside my untouched plate of food, trying to think of anything to change the subject. I don’t want to complain, but what the heck? I use my fingers to fish a three-inch stem out of my salad. We could have just ordered take-out and watched a movie.

A thought hits me. Distract.

Did you notice Professor Lindquist’s fly was down the entire class today? I ask, hoping that my outrageous question will halt him from asking his. He doesn’t answer me, but I continue on with a nervous laugh.

I had a bet with Ben to see how long it would take him to notice, cough — I use air quotes — and zip it. Another feeble attempt at a laugh escapes, and I’m fearful it sounds more like a groan on my part.

He’s not taking the bait. In fact, Marcus doesn’t even seem to hear me speaking. Red-faced and sweaty, his demeanor screams agitation as he looks anywhere but at me.

Clearing my throat, I continue the story. After class, I made Ben fork over the money. He didn’t have any cash on him, but he had a Starbucks gift card his mom gave him for his birthday. I’m set for a week, at least, on coffee. Man, Ben was pissed though, that I cashed in on the bet, you know?

Marcus still hasn’t looked at me. He seems oblivious that I’m speaking. It’s his usual habit to not look at me while I’m speaking, like I’m with him to be seen and not heard. I’m pretty much used to it by now. Normally, I just let it pass, but tonight, for some reason, it really bothers me.

He pulls at his gray dress shirt, the stiff collar and un-appealing bright orange tie looking very out of place on him, and I don’t have to wonder why he’s all dressed up. He’s a man with life goals. We graduate tomorrow, and he just got offered a partnership at a local law firm. I’m guessing the firm frowns on him being unmarried, so now he needs to bag a smart wife. I’m someone who can live in his world. Someone who knows how to be pretty but invisible. Only thing is, I’m not that type of girl, and there’s no way I’m going to saddle myself to a man who can’t even bother to acknowledge I’m alive while I’m speaking – funny story or not!

About a year ago, I started dating him because he was my biology partner. He was smart and boring, so it made college life easier. We both had a permanent date for any black tie or black dress functions we were required to attend, and I was free to go out and party with my girlfriends whenever I wanted and vice versa. I could go weeks without seeing him, any excuse worked, or I could pound on his door at one in the morning and satisfy my need for attention. He never complained. He never got mad. Heck, I didn’t even think he had feelings. And I still don’t.

His face is beet red as he fidgets under the table again. And the redder his face gets, the more I’m certain my guess is right.

Marcus clears his throat. I find myself shaking my head no, ever so slightly, and search for anything else to say, wondering how long I can go without actually answering his last question. What had he asked? It was something about the next step in our future should start now that we’re about to graduate.

He’s going to pop the actual question.

STALL, my brain screams.

Hey, I try for humor. I have a bunch of ones. He finally looks at me.

I’m desperate.

I shudder at the stupidity of my next sentence, but it comes out before I can persuade myself not to say it. "You’re looking pretty hot. My voice changes to sensual. If you want to get out of that suit and tie, you can stand on the table and strip, and I’ll toss the money at you. The customers in here will freak out. It’ll be awesome. What’d you say?" More nervous laughter. Oh God! I wiggle my eyebrows at him, so he’ll know I’m teasing him, but he just stares at me like I’m daft.

Honestly, Jillian, you make it really hard to keep my train of thought, he exclaims.

I sit back, feeling the irritated arch of my brow, and wonder at the shortness of his words. Seriously? Surely, he doesn’t think I’ll marry someone who speaks to me with so little respect, does he? Up until this moment, I’ve been trying to stop him from making a fool of himself, from getting turned down in front of all these people, but he just doesn’t seem to be taking the hint.

Take the hint, Marcus. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

I watch him closely for a sign that I’m wrong, that I’m overreacting, a cringeworthy grimace upon my face. He clears his throat and fumbles his hand around in his pocket.

Oh, God! Oh, God! Don’t!

Jillian.

I shake my head again, but he’s back to not watching me. In fact, he can’t even seem to look at me.

Now that we’ve completed school, you the veterinary program and me the law program, I think... his voice trails off, and he gulps.

Stop him, my mind screams at me, but I’m frozen.

He opens his mouth to speak again, and I feel myself springing from the cushioned seat, cloth napkin in hand, intent on leaving him before he can actually propose. Only the cloth I feel in my hand isn’t the fancy napkin. It’s the tablecloth.

I have to pee – Too late, I realize my mistake as I turn in my haste to get away from him.

The crash of glasses, plates, and utensils as they clatter into one another causes multiple sets of eyes to fall on me as I try unsuccessfully to shrink in on myself. Embarrassment flushes my skin, surely visible on my face too, and I stand in front of him angry and yet bewildered, that we’ve been together for over a year and he still can’t read my queues, that he’s never even tried to get to know me, and that he can’t even bring himself to look me in the eyes as he’s about to ask me to marry him.

What in the world, Jillian? His voice sounding entirely too calm, too reasonable, to match the tomato bisque and red wine that are currently staining his silk shirt, and he stares at me like I’ve gone completely mad as he wipes his face.

The thing is, maybe I have gone mad. I can hear him calling after me as I hurry away, but I don’t care.

Instead of heading to the bathroom, I run toward the exit and the noisy Marietta street beyond. There’s no way today can get any worse. Rushing to the curb, I hail a cab and cringe when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I immediately recognize my mother’s number and swipe the ignore bar. I can’t deal with her right now. The bright yellow cab screeches to a halt in front of me, and I can’t help but think yellow and taxis are the two things in this world I hate, and it’s ironic that they’re directly correlated to each other.

Inside, the cab smells like stale smoke and three days’ worth of body odor. Thinking I should have waited for an Uber instead, I slide across the cracked pleather seat, scrapping the palm of my hand in the process, the underside of my legs burning, and slam the door shut behind me. Mildew blows from the AC at full blast, just a notch away from being lukewarm. The offensive air hits my face, doing nothing but stirring the repulsive smelling odor of the car around, and I turn away from the vent to roll down my window. The warmer smog-filled breeze of the almost summer Georgia day is not as bad as the smell inside the vehicle, but it’s close. I should’ve driven myself. Sighing, I slump back against the seat.

As expected, I look up into the rearview mirror and find a middle-aged man, tats on his face and neck, and the infamous head nod he greets me with.

Where to? he asks in a gruff voice.

I meet his shifty eyes boldly. They can’t all be bad, right? First and Fifth, I say and hope he doesn’t catch the hitch in my voice.

I just gave him the directions to my gym, which is about three blocks from my city-central apartment and directly across from the University. His eyes travel down, and I can feel him judging my short stylish skirt and silky blouse, dubbing it dinner attire and not active wear. His eyebrows raise, but he keeps his mouth shut. Good thing too, he would've lost his tip. I turn to look out the window, avoiding his silent censure, and blow out the breath I’ve been holding. My shoulders slump. Why does Marcus have to be so Marcus? I mean, if monotone could be a personality trait instead of just a vocal inflection habit, I’d say that describes him to a T. But how can he not have a clue?

The irritating tune of my phone going off again causes me to look down into my lap where it landed when I’d settled into the stinky cab just minutes ago. The face of my best friend Aimee appears on the screen, and I pause for a second more before I answer it. I know the cabby is listening. I see his inquisitive look in the mirror as he waits for me to answer the phone.

Hey Aims. Make it quick. I’m in a cab, I snap.

Oh no, what happened? she asks. It’s impressive how well she knows me and my mood swings.

"Marcus