Page 43 of Saved By the Mountain Man

Our interactions were tentative, like we were both afraid to break the fragile truce we had created. Each meeting was careful, but our lovemaking was passionate, sometimes wild, and it conveyed everything we were too scared to put into words.

No matter how much I tried to tell myself we were just taking it day by day, seeing her was a reminder of the feelings I’d tried to bury.

I’d been a fool to think that I could stop loving her and move on. I’d been an idiot to think my heart would play alongjust because my head had decided that was what was going to happen.

I kept busy with my usual routines—chopping wood, hunting where I could, maintaining the cabin—but my thoughts always drifted back to Rae. I wanted to go to her, to see if we could find a way to make things work, but doubts still gnawed at me.

I still didn’t know where she’d come from.

Why was she here?

Why had she suddenly appeared in my life again?

I’d never believed in coincidence. There had to be a reason for everything. But what was the reason for this? There was so much more to the story, and she wouldn’t tell me.

And I didn’t want to ask.

I finished stacking the wood and headed inside, the warmth of the cabin a stark contrast to the chill in my thoughts. I made a pot of coffee, the familiar routine calming me a little.

Was I being paranoid about her?

These days, I was paranoid about everything. Maybe Rae was here for the same reasons I was—to escape, to find peace. But the doubts kept coming back, gnawing at the edges of my mind. I couldn’t afford to be careless, not with my past still casting long shadows over my present.

I lay in bed, covered in furs, and tired after a day’s hard physical labor, but sleep wouldn’t come. My thoughts kept circling back to Rae, to the mystery of her sudden reappearance in my life. I wanted to trust her, to believe that we could find our way back to each other, but I couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion that there was something big I would get tangled up in, and without knowing what it was, I couldn’t completely relax, until I knew that everything between us would be okay.

Until I was sure the past was in the past, and until I knew the truth, I couldn’t let my guard down completely. No matter how much I wanted to.

One night, as I sat by the fire, someone knocked on my door.

When I opened it, it was Bear.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, just dropping in.”

I let him in. The biting cold outside was deadly at night. I didn’t know why the ex-military-turned-mountain-man was roaming the trees at this hour, but nothing he did made sense.

And I knew better than to question him.

“Something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“Something strong. Looks like you could use some and whiskey always warms the veins.”

Bear grinned at me through his thick beard.

“Twist my rubber arm.”

I chuckled and took out two tumblers. I poured us each a good amount—what was the point of only pouring a little when we would just go back for more?

We sat down around the fire.

“You’re working hard these days,” Bear said when we sat.

I nodded. “Always stocking up.”

“You’re going to work yourself to death if you’re not careful.”

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