Page 2 of Stubborn Mountain Man

Sighing, I dropped back into place. I was in the middle of nowhere with an injured ankle. Maybe it was sprained, maybe just a fracture, but I was betting I wouldn’t be able to continue my hike on it.

“What the hell?”

The male voice came from behind me, but I didn’t dare look. My eyes squeezed closed at the entire situation. If this hole could just continue to swallow me, that would be great.

“I fell,” I said, as if that weren’t obvious. “This darn hole.”

Yes, blame the hole. Never mind the fact that I wasn’t even supposed to be here in the first place.

But wait. This wasn’t private property. This was the hiking trail. I wasn’t trespassing, just watching him chop wood.

Silence followed. Not even a sign someone was nearby. Had he headed back to his wood chopping, leaving me here?

But then I heard it—the crunch of shoes on fallen leaves. He was heading this way.

I sat up as much as I could, wincing at the fresh round of pain that came when I accidentally moved my leg a little. Yeah, there was no easy way out of this. Like it or not, I was going to have to ask for help.

Two work boots came into view. Brown with metal protecting the toes. I wondered if that actually kept them safe if he accidentally lowered an ax on his foot.

But as my gaze drifted upward, I forgot all about his shoes. Those baggy jeans did little to cover how giant and solid his legs were. Then there were the washboard abs and well-defined chest. And then I got to his face and lost the ability to breathe.

It wasn’t just that he was unbelievably handsome. That alone would have rendered me speechless. It was the sun streaming through the trees and the way it framed the area behind him, giving him a sort of glow.

Fate. It was a word I’d thought earlier and dismissed. But yeah, whether I believed in it or not, I was feeling more and more like a bigger force was at play here. Something seemed to be nudging me in his direction.

“Maybe you could, you know, call an ambulance?” I asked, kicking myself for not being more assertive.

I should demand he call one now. I should also demand he stop staring at me like I was a criminal. He didn’t own the woods. No, I shouldn’t be standing here—or not standing, as the case may be—but that didn’t mean I was doing anything wrong.

But instead of whipping out a cell phone and summoning help, his feet remained firmly planted in that spot. Was that a scowl that spread over his face?

“Give me your hand,” he said.

I didn’t budge. “You should never move an injured person until you’re sure of the injuries. You could make the situation worse. What if I hurt my back?”

“Did you hurt your back?” he asked.

“No, but?—”

“Give me your hand,” he interrupted.

I stared up at him for another long moment, then lifted my hand toward his. He leaned over and wrapped his gigantic, rough hand around mine, then gave me a gentle tug.

I let out a yell loud enough, it could probably be heard for miles. But he didn’t stop continuing to tug until I was halfway out of the hole. Then he knelt, put a hand on each side of my waist, and lifted upward, setting me down gently.

I settled into a seated position on the ground, both legs spread in front of me, on either side of the hole that had done the damage.

“It might help if you shrug off that backpack,” he said.

It took a good half minute or so for me to process his words. I was busy staring at my ankle, which definitely looked swollen, but it didn’t appear misshapen. That was a good thing. It meant it wasn’t broken. Healing from a break was a pain in the rear. I didn’t have time for that.

“Oh yeah,” I said. “I forgot about that.”

I’d been wearing the backpack so long, it had become a part of me. I immediately felt relief when I dropped it to the ground. But that just reminded me of my current situation.

“How am I going to get out of here?” I asked.

The words slipped out. It wasn’t a problem I expected him to solve. Or even help brainstorm. I’d been fiercely independent my whole life, and that wasn’t going to change just because the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen was standing in front of me.

---