Page 3 of My Secret Santa Mason

That was why I’d left.

That was how I’d ended up here. Somewhere far, far away, where Dylan and Serena and their betrayal couldn’t find me. Where my family would leave me alone and I was free of the gossip behind my back from everyone who knew me.

“You guys have made me feel welcome. I couldn’t ask for more,” I finally said. “This place really is like a home.”

Betty nodded. “You’re part of the family now, Cami. And you know what? You might even get Mason Thompson to show up for one of these things.”

“Mason?” I asked with a frown. I’d heard the name mentioned once or twice but I hadn’t met him. “Who’s Mason?”

“Oh, Bear,” Rae said, rolling her eyes, but a smile tugged at her mouth. “He’s a loner. He lives in the mountains. More of a legend than anything else—some people never even see him around. He keeps to himself mostly, doesn’t come down to town unless he absolutely has to. And when he does, you’d swear the grizzly he’s named after would be more polite.”

“He’s an interesting character,” Betty added, swirling the last of the coffee in her cup. “He grew up in a city close by and went off to the military. When he came here, he was so… intense. He didn’t just decide to live in a small town. He decided to become a recluse.”

“Not completely. He and Tanner still hang out all the time,” Rae pointed out.

“That doesn’t count,” Betty said before she looked back at me. “Tanner lived up there too, so that’s something they have in common.”

I nodded. Rae had told me about Tanner and how they’d met, where he’d lived before. He still had his cabin up there, she’dtold me, and when she and Tanner wanted to be alone, they got a babysitter and headed up to the cabin.

“Well, he lives up in the mountain all on his own,” Betty continued. “Some folks say he’s got his reasons, but whatever they are, he’s not sharing.”

“He’s a good guy,” Rae said, bouncing Hunter gently as he started to fuss. “Tanner’s going to try and get him to come to the Secret Santa event. It will be great if we can get everyone here. But even if we don’t manage to convince him… You’ll meet him eventually. Just don’t take it personally if he’s gruff. He’s just… rough around the edges.”

He sounded like someone from a story. “Sounds like quite the character. I’ll have to see this mountain man for myself.”

“You’ll know him when you see him,” Betty said with a laugh. “Big guy, scowl like he’s never heard of a smile. But underneath it all, he’s got a good heart. Just takes a while to thaw him out.”

I grinned. “Well, maybe we can warm him up with some eggnog. I love a challenge.”

Rae smirked, glancing at me. “You might be the one to finally get him to join in, you never know. Silver Ridge is full of surprises.”

I laughed, and a thrill of excitement rushed over me. Life in Silver Ridge was turning out to be more than anything I could have hoped for, and the Secret Santa event was going to be the cherry on top.

2

MASON

The snow had fallen heavy overnight, blanketing the forest in a thick, quiet hush. It was beautiful if you were the kind of person who looked at things that way, all pristine and untouched.

Me?

I just saw it as a pain in the ass. Snow made things harder. Slowed you down. Left tracks where you didn’t want any. Covered up tracks you might want to follow.

It was beautiful in the way a well-maintained weapon was—cold, sharp, and dangerous if you weren’t paying attention.

I moved through the woods, careful to stay downwind and make as little noise as possible. The rifle in my hands was a Remington 700, bolt-action, reliable. I’d customized it over the years—a Leupold scope for better accuracy, a lightweight synthetic stock for balance, and a custom trigger job that made it as smooth as butter. It wasn’t just a gun; it was an extension of me. I knew every quirk, every inch, like it was part of my own body.

My boots sank into the snow with each step, every sound muted by the thick, icy blanket. I guess that was something that counted in my favor. It wasn’t as loud as dried leaves could be.

I scanned the forest, watching for movement, my breath misting in the cold air. I’d been up since before dawn, working my way through the trees, watching the light change from a dim gray to the bright, almost blinding white of a winter morning. It wasn’t winter quite yet, but up here against the mountain, the weather could have fooled me.

Sunlight broke through the branches above, casting shadows that danced and shifted. The forest looked like something out of a postcard—if you could ignore the bite of the cold and the fact that everything out here was trying to survive.

Wish you were here.Not.

My breath was steady, controlled, just like the beat of my heart. The hares were harder to spot in the snow, their coats turning white for the season, but I knew what to look for—the flash of movement, the dark eyes that never quite blended in, the small tracks that showed they’d been out early, just like me.

I spotted one near the base of a tree, sitting still, thinking it was invisible. I took my time, dropping to one knee, the rifle already up and against my shoulder. I lined up the shot, exhaling slowly. I stilled my heart, focusing on nothing other than my target. The world disappeared and it was just me and the hare.

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