Page 4 of Knot a Chance in Hell

Shae turned inland, taking a winding rocky road up a mountain. It wasn’t as big as some of the other mountains I could see, but it was still huge. Trees blocked the view, and I felt totally lost even though we probably weren’t twenty minutes outside of town.

A battered post that was roughly cut to resemble an ax marked a driveway which forked about a hundred feet in. Shae jerked her to the right. “Savva lives there to the right. The boys are up here on the left.”

The truck bounced along the road, having me bouncing in my seat. “Where do you live? You mentioned you were their neighbor.”

“A couple miles down the road to the west. You might hear my dogs from here.”

“Atka and his friend are that loud?” Huskies could howl, but could it really carry that far?

“Sound carries. I raise sled dogs, and I’ve got twenty-six right now. But Atka and Kavik aren’t mine. They belong to Ezekiel.” Shae slowed the truck as we exited the woods onto the side of the mountain. The darkening gray sky stretched out into forever. The strait between the mainland and the island was arippling line below. A few boats chugged along heading north looking like they were the size of fake fingernails. “I take care of the dogs while they’re working, but not anymore. That’s your job now.”

Wait. I twisted to face Shae as she put the truck into park. My job?

“But… I’ve never had a dog before.” My heart raced. I’d never had any pets. My family traveled way too much.

Shae opened her door and slid out. “Well, now you do. The dogs approve of you too.” She shook her head as if she disagreed and walked to the back end. “Come on. We’re here.”

Here? Where? All I saw was a sheer drop off the mountain. I turned around in my seat and gasped.

There was the cabin. No, not a cabin. A great wooden castle in the making. Massive timbers framed the peaked roof and anchored it to the side of the rock. A stack of large beams were piled on the ground behind the truck half covered by a tarp. A steel framed walkway led across a crack in the mountain to the front door. How was this place not tumbling to the forest below?

Atka and Kavik jumped out and ran a half dozen circles around the yard before trotting over to the cabin’s door. Shae yanked my suitcases and trunk out of the truck as I slowly exited. They lived on the side of a mountain.Iwas going to live on the side of a mountain.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” Shae didn’t smile but she lifted her chin with a glint of what looked like admiration in her eyes. “The boys did good. Silas, especially. He can build a house anywhere.”

“How…?” I wasn’t even certain what to ask. If she told me the cabin was floating on a cloud, I was inclined to believe her. “They built this themselves?”

“Yup.” Shae shrugged. “I don’t know their secrets. You’ll have to ask Silas. But the rock is granite. It isn’t going to crack.”

I didn’t know one rock from another, but this was an incredible feat of engineering. The men weren’t just good, they were geniuses.

“Alright. Front door’s unlocked. Kodiak cleared out his room for you to use. It’s the one with the balcony.” Shae hopped back up into her truck. “I’ve gotta go home and feed my dogs before the storm hits.”

I jerked myself out of my shock. “But what about you being my chaperon? I can’t be alone with Alphas if I’m unclaimed.”

My words fell on deaf ears. Shae had already gotten into the truck and revved the engine as she pulled out. I wasn’t even sure if she looked in her rearview mirror at me. Squashing the urge to run after her, I lifted my arm to wave. It was the law that unclaimed Omegas needed escorts around Alphas, but I guess no one was around up here to enforce it.

The chill in a gust of wind nipped me, and I hugged myself. Think positive. It will all be fine. Kodiak will be home soon, and we’ll get along splendidly. Plus he had two friends to help keep us company and act as chaperons.

Propping up two of my suitcases, I popped out their wheels and led them to the front door. The cabin towered over me, easily three stories high. Atka barked eagerly, and the second I opened the door, he was inside. Kavik was much more calm. She sat, waiting for me to go in.

“Thank you.” I gave her a small curtsy and a head scratch before wheeling my suitcases in. Kavik followed and sat where I placed my luggage as if guarding them.

I wiped my boots on the mat as I stared at the main room with wide eyes. The ceiling was the full three stories. Several beams as wide as a car ran across above me. There was a grand fireplace with a wide screen TV over top of it and a long L shaped couch in front. The big room was open to the kitchen which hadbutcher block counters, a massive island with a double sink, and a long dining room table cut from what looked to be the same wood the house itself was made from.

There was no mess, which I might have thought with three men living on their own. Yet there was also no décor. No art, no photographs, or throw pillows or anything with color. It was minimalism beyond just living an uncluttered life. It seemed their house was not a home yet.

The most stunning part of the cabin was the huge wall of windows at the back looking down the mountain over the woods to the strait and the mainland. Clouds swirled around the tops of the peaks and no more boats sped toward Petersburg as the sky had darkened further.

Dark. That’s right. A storm was coming.

I rushed back outside and brought my other suitcase in before fetching the trunk. Though it had wheels, it still was difficult to roll over the rocky ground and steel bridge. I closed the door, and as soon as it clicked, both dogs went over to sit beside a pair of bowls by the kitchen island.

While I had never had a pet, I knew you had to feed them and give them water. “Okay darlings, let’s see where they keep your food.” I peeked through the lower cupboards until I found a fifty pound bag of dog food. Thankfully it was half empty.

I filled the food bowls and spotted two water bowls on the other side of the island. I put clean water into them. The huskies gobbled down all their food and drank all the water before sitting and staring at me again. “Do I give you more? I don’t know how much food dogs are supposed to have. The bag suggests…” I read over the back of the package. “Large dog, two to three cups a day. I’m going to assume you were fed this morning. So no more of this.” Atka whined at me, and I shook my finger. “No more, sweetie. But water, I will give you all the water you want.”

I refilled the water bowls and checked the rest of the kitchen. There was the bare minimum. Mostly beer and meat in the fridge.

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