Page 1 of Her Obsessed Lumberjack

1

ROMAN

I blinkup at the wooden ceiling of my bedroom, watching as morning light filters through the windows. Another sleepless night. My head feels like lead, but there’s no point lying here any longer, so I force myself out of bed and get ready for the day. Once I’ve thrown on a plaid shirt and jeans, I grab my axe from the living room and stride into the early morning chill, letting the cool air revive me.

I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night. Ever since retiring from the police force and moving out to Cherry Hollow, I’ve become a total insomniac. It makes no damn sense. I slept like a baby for over twenty years while working as a cop in Phoenix. Shootings, robberies, murders: I saw it all and never let it affect me. Now I’m living out in the woods, surrounded by peace and quiet, and I can’t fucking relax.

Go figure.

In the past, there was always another case to throw myself into, another criminal to take off the streets. Now, there’s nothing but the quiet forest and my own bad memories. It’s like all those years of repressed emotions are surfacing at once, hitting me like bullets, and there’s nowhere to take cover. Nowhere to hide.

I don’t regret my decision to retire. My last case almost cost me everything. A crime boss back in Phoenix threatened my daughter’s life and almost succeeded in kidnapping her. If it hadn’t been for my buddy, Trace, anything could have happened. Now Chloe is safe and sound, living with Trace in a cabin less than a mile away from mine. They’re happily married, and I’m proud as hell of my little girl. When I first adopted her all those years ago, she was a neglected kid with trust issues, and now she’s a thriving local artist with a bright future ahead of her. That’s part of the reason I haven’t told her about my problems; I don’t want to burden my daughter. Instead, I try to distract myself with work. Every morning, I grab my axe and head into the woods, looking for the best trees to fell. Selling lumber puts food on the table, and the physical nature of the job helps keep my mind off things, even if it’s only for a little while.

I just wish it was enough to help me sleep.

The thought gnaws at me as I wind through the trees, the wooden handle of my axe clutched tight in my palm. The forest is an explosion of color. Red and gold leaves glitter in the morning light, and the smell of wood smoke lingers in the air as I continue my search, finally spotting the perfect oak tree to fell. Rolling up my sleeves, I start to smash my axe against the wood, pouring all my concentration into each cut. The repetitive motion should be soothing, but this morning, each chop sounds like a gunshot, and the world around me blurs to nothing.

I’m back in Phoenix. My gun is drawn, screams echoing around me as I kick down the door. Gunfire, shouting voices—everything happens in flashes. The room is a blur of bodies and smoke. Something moves in the shadows. A kid, no older than fifteen, points a gun straight at me, his hand shaking…

The tree creaks and topples to the ground, dragging me back to the present with a jarring crash. I grip the handle of my axe tighter as I sever the remaining tree roots, my heart pounding.It feels like an iron fist is closing around my chest, clamping me tight, but I force the panic down, refusing to face it.

“Dad?”

I look up from the tree to see my daughter approaching through the morning mist, wrapped up warm in a coat and scarf. Her winter boots crunch against the dead leaves that carpet the ground as she hurries toward me.

“Hey, Coco.”

“I thought that was you.” She smiles at me, and I pull her into a hug, feeling some of my stress vanish.

“You’re out early.”

“I wanted to do some painting,” she says. “The fall colors are always so pretty in the morning. I heard your axe just as I was setting up.”

“Trace not with you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. My daughter’s husband is protective as hell, and the two of them are rarely apart.

“I didn’t want to wake him.” Chloe smiles to herself. “I left him a note so he doesn’t panic.”

“Good idea.”

Her face turns serious as she looks up at me. “You okay, Dad? You look tired.”

“I’m fine, Coco. Just getting old.”

“Are you sure?” She frowns at me. “You can be honest. I know it must have been a big adjustment for you—moving out here, handing in your badge…”

Part of me wants to tell her everything. The memories that won’t let go, the flashbacks; I could tell her right now, but what would that achieve? My daughter has her own life, a happy one. I won’t let my personal shit ruin it.

“Sure, it was a big deal,” I tell her, dropping my axe and rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans. “But I’m learning to like it out here. It’s just taking a little while to feel like home.” Witha shrug of my shoulders, I add, “Even an old grump like me can appreciate Cherry Hollow.”

It’s not a lie. Despite the sleepless nights and the reeling thoughts, I know this place is special. From the rugged peaks to the sprawling orchards and vivid blue mountain lakes, Cherry Hollow is beautiful. It’s not the place that’s the problem. It’s my own damn brain.

“I’m glad you like it, Dad.” Chloe smiles at me, though she doesn’t look entirely convinced. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Trace is taking me to a haunted corn maze tonight, out near the cherry orchard. I’d love it if you came with us.”

I frown. “The hell is a haunted corn maze?”

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