Page 5 of Saved By the Mountain Man

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TANNER

The morning light filtered through the dense canopy of the forest, casting dappled shadows across the ground. My axe bit into the log with a satisfying thud, splitting the wood cleanly in two. I picked up the halves, tossing them onto the growing pile by the cabin. When I put down the next log, I swung the axe overhead again, yanking it down with all the force I had and the log split in two again.

This was my routine. The rhythm of chopping wood, the crisp bite of the mountain air—it was the only thing that kept the memories at bay.

Today, I needed those memories further than ever.

Chopping wood wasn’t just a routine, it was an outlet, helping me deal with the colossal clusterfuck that was Rae arriving again on my doorstep as if she’d always been there.

Damn it, what the hell was I supposed to do with that? For years I’d lived a perfectly happy life, able to forget about all the damage I’d done.

Or at least one where I couldconvincemyself of all of that.

And now she was here, reminding me what a son of a bitch I really was.

Out here, among the towering pines and whispering winds, I should have been able to forget. But McKenna-Rae fucking Stevens just had to bring it all back in a tidal wave of the past, crushing me into the ground as if I wasn’t six-foot-four and as big as a boulder.

I set another log on the stump and raised the axe, feeling the strain in my shoulders. Each swing was a release, a way to channel the anger and guilt that bubbled just beneath the surface.

Years ago, I had been a different man. A loyal henchman, the muscle, the guy whotook out the trash.I’d worked my way up until I’d been a right-hand man, irreplaceable because that was how you stayed alive in a world where there were no rules, no guarantees.

I’d thought I was doing a good thing. The guy had been just about as nasty as the devil himself, but he’d paid well, played by a set of rules I understood.

Until that one meeting, the one I’d unknowingly set up as a murderer-for-hire.

The one that left a family dead, including a child.

Guilt turned in my chest, a knife between my ribs, and I gritted my teeth. I grunted through it as the axe came down with a force that made the log shudder before splitting. I couldn’t shake the image of their lifeless bodies, glassy eyes looking blankly up at the sky. The child’s hand still tightly clasped in his mother’s.

I hoped wherever they were now, she could still hold on to him like that, keep him safe.

It haunted me, followed me into my dreams, turning them into nightmares.

I glanced at the pile of wood, wiping sweat from my brow. It was getting colder, and I needed to stock up for a winter snowedin at the cabin. Winter in the mountains was brutal, the snow piling up to the roof of my cabin on some days, but that was when I was safest.

No one would ever find me there.

No one but the ghosts who followed me around.

With the chopping done for now, I grabbed my rifle and slung it over my shoulder. Hunting was next on the agenda. There were no grocery stores or conveniences out here—just the land and what it provided. Living off it was the only way to keep myself grounded, to remind myself I was still capable of something good.

I’d wanted to go back to the cabin Laura sometimes let me use when mine was cut off so I could leave a stash of winter clothes.

The cabin was simple, with double walls and insulation, but when the cold came a-knocking, that wasn’t enough.

Still, it was mine. I’d built it with my own hands and Bear’s help. Bear was my only connection to the outside, the man who’d given me the tough love and no-nonsense advice I needed when I first crawled into these mountains, a broken shell of a man.

As I trekked through the forest, the cold air burned my lungs. Rae’s face flashed before me. Seeing her last night had stirred something in me—something I’d buried so fucking deep no one had been able to find it. But Rae had always been able to crack me open until she saw who I was on the inside.

Until she saw all the broken and twisted and ugly I carried around. If I hadn’t run, she would have.

She’d looked the way she’d always looked, but something about her was different. Stronger, more resilient, but there was a shadow in her eyes.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. I shouldn’t be thinking about her. I had work to do, a life to live. I’d created a world without her.

Why is she here?

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