Page 24 of Saved By the Mountain Man

I had to man up and handle it.

The fire crackled in the hearth as it grew, eating at the wood. I’d built it when the storm had just started, and it cast a warm glow over the room. My cabin was small but sturdy, and it wouldn’t buckle under the weight of the storm. The walls were lined with rough-hewn logs, and the floor was covered in thick, woven rugs, keeping danger out and warmth in.

“Let me see your hands,” I said gruffly.

Rae hesitated, her eyes large and unsure, but then held out her hands. I took them gently, examining the scrapes and cuts. Some were pretty deep, but they weren’t as bad as they looked, just bloodied and full of mud.

When I’d seen her first, drenched and bloody, my heart had nearly stopped.

I fetched a first-aid kit from the bathroom. As I cleaned and bandaged her hands, she winced but didn’t pull away. The tension between us was palpable. She hated that I was looking after her—I didn’t need her to tell me that to know. Iknewher. Her expressions, her thoughts. She might have changed in a lot of ways, but she was also still exactly the same.

“How many times are you going to tell me you stumbled across my cabin before you realize that I know it’s bullshit?”

She glared at me. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“I just don’t think any of this is an accident.”

She shook her head. “The first time was. The second time, I remembered where you were. I needed to hide from the storm, but I’ll leave as soon as it’s over. Don’t you worry. As soon as I can get out of here, I’m gone.”

Her words were hard, and they cut me. I didn’t want her to leave. But I was pushing her away. That had always been the plan, right?

When her hands were bandaged, she pulled the towel tighter around her, but she still shivered. Her clothes were wet and the fire wouldn’t help.

I stood. “You have to get out of those wet clothes. You’ll catch your death. Come on.” I turned away from her.

Rae followed me to the bedroom, her footsteps hesitant. I rummaged through the dresser, pulling out a pair of old sweatpants and a flannel shirt. “It’s all I have,” I said, handing them to her. “They’ll be big, but they’re dry. You can shower, get rid of all the mud, and get dry.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, taking the clothes. She headed to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I heard the shower start, the sound of water a soothing counterpoint to the storm outside.

While she was showering, I stoked the fire, adding another log. The cabin was warm, the scent of pine and woodsmoke filling the air. I couldn’t shake the feeling of protectiveness that had settled over me. Despite everything, despite the questions and the mistrust, I couldn’t stand to see Rae suffer.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she was dressed in my clothes. The sweatpants hung loosely on her hips, and the flannel shirt was practically a dress. But fuck, I’d never seen anyone hotter. Her hair was wet and curled around her face.

“Feel better?” I tried to keep my voice neutral.

“A little,” she admitted, moving closer to the fire before she added in a whisper, “Thanks for this.”

I nodded. “You’re welcome.”

She glanced at me but said nothing.

No matter how hostile we were toward each other, there was a spark underneath it all, the same spark that had always been between us.

The wind howled outside, the storm crashing down all around us, reminding us that nature was so much bigger and it could crush us if it wanted. We were hidden from the storm but I was under no illusion where I stood on the food chain.

Humans always believed they were on top of the world, but it wasn’t that simple. Death came too easily, and surviving wasn’t simple.

The storm brought darkness much earlier than was normal for this time of year, and I turned on the oil lamps.

“You should rest,” I said. “It’s going to be a rough night; this storm isn’t letting up any time soon. You can take the bed.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m used to rough nights, and the couch is close to the fire.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said.

I shook my head. I wasn’t letting her sleep out here. It would be safer for her in bed, with fur blankets, and if I was on the couch, I could be the first line of defense if someone came through that door looking for her.

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