Page 7 of Rugged Courage

This makes Cece pause for a moment, and she raises an eyebrow at me. God help me, but I want to kiss her perfectly plump lips. I can’t decide if she knows how much she’s affecting me or if she has no clue how fucking sexy she is.

As we chat, I realize something feels off. The forest, which had been alive with birdsong and the rustle of small animals, has gone unnaturally quiet. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I pause and scan our surroundings closely, my senses on high alert.

Suddenly, I freeze. Cece is looking to the side as she walks next to me, so she doesn’t immediately see the two mountain lions standing before us, swishing their tails as they watch us with a heart-stopping intensity. My heart races as worry for Cece rushes through me. I know how to handle this, but will she remember my instructions for dealing with mountain lions?

“Don’t move,” I whisper to Cece, slowly positioning myself at her side. I can feel the heat of her body next to me, hear the quick intake of her breath. “Stay calm and back away slowly. Don’t turn your back on them.”

Cece’s breathing is ragged, her body shaking as she stands close. “Raise your arms and make yourself look big,” I instruct, keeping my voice low and steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “Raise your arms slowly.”

We inch backward, every movement deliberate and careful. The surrounding forest is unnaturally still as if every other creature is hiding.

The mountain lions watch us as we back away, windmilling our arms. Their tails continue to twitch, but they don’t advance on us. Each second feels like an eternity, yet my mind races. Is this my last day on this earth? Will I continue to be fortunate and have this as another story to tell? Will Cece be okay? How far back was that root I nearly tripped over?

I’m acutely aware of every sound, every movement. The crunch of gravel under our feet seems deafening in the tense silence. A bird calls in the distance, and the sudden noise makes Cece flinch.

Finally, after what seems like ten lifetimes, the mountain lions turn and disappear into the forest. The sudden absence of danger makes me slump in relief. This isn’t my first time encountering mountain lions, but it never gets easier or less terrifying.

I let out a shaky breath, relief washing over me in a dizzying wave. I turn to Cece, needing to ensure she’s safe. “Are you okay?”

She nods, but she’s trembling, and the blood has drained from her face. I hesitate for a moment before pulling her into a bear hug. The warmth of her skin seeps through her jacket, grounding me as much as I hope to ground her.

“It’s okay,” I say softly, hugging her longer than strictly necessary. “We’re safe now. You did great.”

“Thanks to you,” she says, managing a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.”

“You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for,” I reply, searching her eyes. The depth of emotion I see there catches me off guard. “But I’m glad I could help. Are you okay to keep going?”

Cece takes a deep breath. “I’m… Do we have to go that way?” she asks, nodding down the trail where the mountain lions stood.

This trail is the fastest route back to town, but I don’t want Cece scared. I glance behind us, calculating how far it is to the fork that will take us to another trail. If we take the long way, we won’t get back before dark, and we shouldn’t be hiking that late—especially if those mountain lions are hungry.

I glance at Cece and make a decision. “Let’s backtrack a little. I know a cabin nearby where we can stay for the night. It’s safer than trying to make it back in the dark.”

Cece nods, relief evident in her expression. We hike in silence to the cabin, and I remain vigilant, constantly scanning our surroundings. My protective instincts are in overdrive, and I’m hyper-aware of Cece’s presence beside me.

The trail becomes steeper as we approach Creek Ravine. Finally, we break through the tree line, and the cabin comes into view.

“Here we are,” I say, gesturing to a cabin nestled among the trees. It’s rustic but charming, weathered wood hiding the security of the building. A small porch faces the bubbling creek that gives the area its name.

“I don’t think I’ve seen this on a map,” Cece says, curiosity filling her green eyes.

A twinge of unease prickles my neck at bringing her here, but I push it aside. I’ll deal with Waylon’s anger later. Safety has to come first.

I unlock the door, and we step inside. The cabin is clean, with a small kitchenette, a living area dominated by a stone fireplace, and three small bedrooms down a short hallway.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I tell Cece, watching as she sinks gratefully into an armchair. “I need to call Reggie and tell him where we are.” I don’t add that he and the others probably already know because there is a lot of digital surveillance and security here, and Reggie knows instantly if someone is within two miles of this place.

I step onto the porch to make the call, pacing back and forth as I update Reggie on our situation. The conversation is tense, and he doesn’t hide his concern about me bringing an outsider here.

“I know, Reggie,” I say, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “But it was the safest option... Yes, I’m aware of the implications... We’ll be fine. I’ll check in again in the morning.”

I end the call and turn back to Cece, trying to smooth the worry from my features. “Sorry about that,” I say, offering a small smile.

“It’s okay.”

I watch as Cece takes off her jacket and sweater, inhaling sharply as she stands with her back to me, wearing only a thin tank top. She bends and pulls a hoodie from her backpack, zipping it to her chest.

Cece turns to look at me as if she knows I’m watching her. I battle the desire intensifying inside me as the air between us electrifies. I step closer, drawn to her despite my better judgment. The small cabin seems to shrink, the space between us crackling with tension.

---