Page 2 of Her Protective Lumberjack

“Don’t be, Coco. None of this is your fault.” Dad clenches his jaw, eyes flicking obsessively toward his rear-view mirror. “But don’t worry, okay? I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

“Where?”

“Cherry Hollow. It’s a small town in Colorado. I have an old buddy from the military who lives out in the mountains. Trace Vaughn. Trust him with my life.”

I swallow hard, wondering how the heck this day turned so crazy. Right now, I should be sitting at a desk, meeting my new co-workers. Instead, I’m heading to Colorado to stay with a stranger and escape a death threat.

“Do you know who sent the note?” I ask, as my dad hangs a surprise left.

He grunts. “I have a pretty good idea. We’ve been chasing a guy called Will Mercer. Local crime boss running drug trafficking operations in Arizona and New Mexico. The guy’s a big fish, but we’re closing in on him. Been locking up more of his associates lately, disrupting his business. He must know we’re getting close. Thinks he can escape justice by threatening my kid.” He spits out the word ‘threatening’ like it’s poison, anger burning in his eyes. “I’ll get this asshole bang to rights, Chloe. Once you’re safe in Colorado, I’ll head straight back to Phoenix and get to work. We won’t stop until we nail the son-of-a-bitch.”

My stomach lurches at his words. “You mean you’re not staying with me?”

Dad shoots me an apologetic look. “I can’t, kiddo. Not while Mercer is still free. I need to make it safe for you to come home.”

With a nod, I turn away, looking out the window so he can’t see the tears burning in my eyes. More than anything, I wish I could turn the clock back to this morning, when my biggest worry was the pimple on my chin and what to wear for my first day at work. But I know I have to be brave for my dad’s sake. He’s never once let me down, and if he says he’s going to catch Will Mercer, I believe him.

It’s a twelve-hour drive from Phoenix to Trace’s home, but it takes us even longer. Dad keeps making detours, trying to ensure we’re not being tailed, and the sun is already setting when we pass the sign welcoming us to Colorado. By the time we reach Cherry Hollow, the surrounding mountains are little more than dark blue shadows.

“Nearly there,” he says as we’re swallowed up by a tangle of black trees, pushing deep into the heart of a wild forest. The closer we get, the heavier my heart grows. I hate the thought of staying out here with a stranger while Dad goes back to Phoenix alone. He could be in danger. Will Mercer might come after him. But I won’t let myself cry again.

After what feels like a million twists and turns, I finally spot a pinprick of warm orange light in the distance. As we approach, I realize it’s coming from the window of a large wooden cabin, barely visible through the gloom of the woods.

Dad cuts the engine, plunging us into silence. He wasn’t kidding: this Trace guy really does live in the middle of nowhere. I’ve never been anywhere this quiet before. The nearby hooting of an owl and the rustling of trees are the only things I hear as I clamber out of the truck, stretching my numb legs.

I see a flicker of movement from the cabin, and my pulse stutters. I’ve never been good at meeting new people. All I want to do is get back in the truck and head home with Dad, buthe’s already striding toward the cabin with my luggage in hand, beckoning me to follow.

“Come on, Coco.”

I do as he says. We reach the front door, and Dad raises his fist to knock.

“How long do I need to stay here?” I ask quickly before his hand makes contact with the wood.

He sighs deeply. The light from the window illuminates his furrowed brow and the gray hairs that have recently started to pepper his beard. “I wish I knew, kiddo.” He rests a hand on my shoulder. “You need to stay here until I know you’ll be safe at home. And I’ll do everything I can to make that happen as soon as possible. I promise.”

I press my lips together and nod, trying to put on a brave face. “Okay, Dad.”

He bends down to kiss the top of my head, then knocks on the cabin door.

2

TRACE

I frownwhen I hear the knock. Rocky perks up beside me, letting out a deep bark, and I reach out to stroke him before heading for the door. When my old buddy Roman called me this morning, he was worked up as hell. Told me he’d received a note threatening his daughter’s life and needed to send her somewhere safe. Somewhere remote, right out in the sticks, far away from Phoenix.

Somewhere like my cabin.

I told him Chloe could stay, of course. Roman and I served together. We fought side by side, and that counts for a hell of a lot, so I wasn’t about to let him down when his daughter is in danger. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about having some girl stay in my cabin for the foreseeable future. Hell, I haven’t seen Roman’s daughter since she was a little kid. She must be in her early twenties now—what the fuck am I meant to talk to a twenty-two-year-old about?

But it’s not just her age that bothers me. I like my own space—my own company, just me and Rocky. I avoid people as much as possible, sticking to the forest and throwing myself into my work as a lumberjack. Chopping wood, that’s what I’m good at. Not entertaining house guests.

With a knot of unease in my gut, I open the door. Roman is standing there, looking older than I remember. He’s probably thinking the same thing about me.

“Trace,” he says, reaching out to grip my shoulder. “Thanks for this. I owe you.”

“No problem. Good to see you, buddy.”

I step back from the door to let him in, and as he crosses the threshold, Rocky jumps up to greet him, panting excitedly. Roman gives him a distracted pat and frowns toward the doorway.

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