Page 19 of Ten Mountain Men

Around the corner, I can easily hear the brothers talking about me. Or shouting, more like it. They don’t speak, they boom.

I listen to them, chewing my lip and watching the bright afternoon light from the large windows in the main living space cast flickering shadows on the rustic wooden walls.

“No one asked my opinion!” shouts the guy who walked in on my bath. His deep voice reverberates through the cabin. I swear I can feel it in my soul. And other places.

I recognize Hunter’s voice next, his deep, sexy tone making me shiver. “Because you weren’t there!”

“So you just bring her home and put her in my bath?”

The poor guy’s frustration is palpable, and I can’t help feeling bad, even though I didn’t know it was his bath. I thought Clay drew it for me.

“I didn’t know it was your bath, Rusty.” This time it’s Clay talking. I recognize his cute, scratchy drawl and that can’t-take-much-serious tone that’s somehow already familiar. “I went into the bathroom to draw her a bath, and the tub was already filled.”

I play with the sleeves of the flannel shirt as I shift from foot to foot, hugging it around myself. It’s far from perfect, but it’ll do. I ended up making some sort of toga-ish wraparound dress with it. It’s warm against my skin, and carries the faint scent of the forest. Rugged and piney. Mmmm…I kind of want to bottle it up.

“So,” Rusty growls, “you thought the tub knew you were bringing in some strange lady for a bubble bath and just filled itself? You know I like to get the water scalding hot and then go for a run and then it’s the perfect temperature when I come back! You know I always take my bubble bath before lunch, Clayton.”

“I didn’t actually think that much about it. I needed a tub full of water, there was a tub full of water. Quite serendipitous.”

Well. There’s a word I didn’t expect to hear used by these guys.

“For Pete’s sake,” Grumpy Luke grumbles. “Could you two stop squabbling? You’re ruining my appetite. Sit down and eat.”

I tiptoe and peek around the corner. Each step on my swollen foot makes me wince. And a glance in the bathroom mirror told me my forehead is almost as misshapen, with a big-ass knot dead center.

I’m going to have a hell of a bruise, so I’ll have to use a filter that’ll disguise it for any social media posts I film if I actually plan to show my face in them, I muse while I stall. Even the best concealer can only do so much.

The brothers are all gathered around the enormous dining table, their faces illuminated by the warm sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Their expressions are a mix, but a majority have tense jaws and furrowed bushy brows, watching the heated conversation. Only Grumpy Luke seems to be eating, his huge frame hunched over his equally huge bowl.

Sooner or later, I’m going to have to go in there.

“Everybody eat your damn lunch,” he orders. “Why haven’t you even started eating? Lynx? Nash? Clay? Come on, it’ll be time for supper before we finish, dammit, and everybody’s got chores!”

“We’re waiting for Gold,” Lynx says.

My heart does a tiny little squeeze, and I bite my lip to hide a huge smile that wants to take over my face at the way he says my name. Well, part of my name.

At that moment, Hunter glances up and sees me. “Gold!” He grins. “Are you hungry? We set you a place.”

Thankfully, though I find it hard to believe, there’s a clear path to the dining table and as I move closer to it, I feel the smooth texture of the wooden floor beneath my feet, worn down to a polish by years of use. I realize this place could be beautiful as I look around, trying to ignore the chaotic hoard of junk. The bones appear to be there. Good, strong bones.

“Here, Gold,” Brooks says, pulling out a chair. “I’ll fix you a bowl of beef stew.”

The amazing smell of savory spices and roasted meat is even better now that I’m clean, for some reason, and my mouth waters in anticipation of the meal ahead. Stew and sandwiches in crusty loaves, one a piece, and so big that they each cover an entire dinner plate.

“Stew’s gone,” Grumpy Luke says as he shovels in a mouthful from his own bowl.

“What do you mean the stew’s gone?” Ranger growls.

“I mean there’s no stew left.” Grumpy Luke lifts one broad shoulder in a lazy shrug. “But eat all the rolls you want, I guess.”

“But we haven’t even had ours yet!” Lynx protests. “How many bowls did you have?”

Luke does another half-shrug and takes another bite. “I never said I was planning to wait before eating, and it’s only right to go for seconds after firsts is done. Then I wanted thirds. You all have full bowls, so stop complaining. You want the chance for seconds, you come to the table on time.”

Lynx scowls. “But what about Gold?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” I say with a smile, trying to sound light enough to disperse the tension. “I’m not even really very hungry.”

---