Page 1 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

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HANK

As I walk through the forest, a gnawing unease grips me.

Something isn’t right. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.

Dad’s got that look again, the one that says he’s been running the numbers in his head all day and they’re not adding up. Ben’s over by the truck, loading up the last of the chainsaws, his broad back glistening with sweat under the afternoon sun.

“We should head back,” I say, staring up at the heavy gray cloud looming overhead.

Some instinct is telling me that we need to get the hell out of here.

Now.

My earliest memories are of these towering pines and the sound of axes biting into timber, the scent of fresh-cut wood mingling with the crisp mountain air. Dad taught us everything – how to judge a tree's age by its rings, how to fell it safely.

How to survive out here.

“You know,” Dad starts, his voice gruff, “if JT were here, we’d have this done by now.” Jesus Christ. Here we go again.

“I know,” I mutter, glancing down at my watch.

We’ve got thirty minutes of daylight left.

Ben, JT, and I, each carved out our roles in this family business. But JT’s the one Dad wants to run everything.

Except, he left three years ago and hasn’t been back.

I glance over at Ben. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps working, but I can see from the way his shoulders tense up that he’s not happy. This isn’t the first time we’ve heard it, and it won’t be the last.

“JT’s got a knack for this stuff,” Dad continues, more to himself than to us. “Always knew how to handle the crew, keep things running smoothly.”

“Yeah, well, JT’s not here, is he?” I say, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. “We’re doing just fine.” I start walking over to the truck. “Let’s load up and get home, alright?”

Dad sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, Hank, I know. Just… these contracts, they’re getting tougher. More competition out there. Could use his head for numbers.”

Ben finally turns around, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “We’ll manage, Dad. Always do.”

I nod in agreement, even though I can feel the frustration bubbling up inside. It’s not like we don’t miss JT too. He’s got that charm, that leadership that people just naturally follow. But he’s off doing his own thing, and we’ve got to pick up the slack.

“Dad, come on!” I holler, waving my arm. “Shut the damn saw off and let’s go!”

I hear it then.

A heavy, strange snapping sound followed by a terrible, guttural scream.

“Dad!” My scream echoes through the eerily silent forest, raw and panicked.

A massive broken log had fallen from the trees above, crashing directly down onto him. Thick, red blood pools from the injury in his head, running out onto the cold, wet earth.

Ben drops the chainsaw and sprints towards us. Deep lines of concern etched on his face along with fear. We’re both terrified. I’m already at Dad’s side, my hands trembling as I press them against the gash on the back of his head.

Blood is everywhere, and it’s bad – way worse than anything we’ve seen before.

“Ben, hurry!” I shout, my voice cracking. “He’s losing too much blood!”

Ben reaches us, his face pale and eyes wide with terror. “We need to get him to a hospital. Now!”

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