Page 12 of Protected By the Mountain Man

I don’t want to fail Mariah.

I also don’t want to scare her.

And I’m terrified that if I stay close to her, I won’t be able to stop myself from letting our hands brush, or stepping too close to catch a whiff of her flowery scent, or holding her gaze for a second too long and letting all things she’s making me feel spill out of my mouth in a torrent of words declaring feelings she doesn’t reciprocate.

So I leave.

I put as much space between us as I can.

For both our sakes.

Because the last thing she needs is living with a guy that creeps her out by coming on far too strong. She already has enough creeps in her life.

But now where do I go? It’s late in the afternoon, and experience tells me it’s likely that no more customers coming into the shop today. I need something to do instead of standing like an idiot at the bottom of the stairs up to my apartment.

I start walking, with no destination in mind. Thankfully the March day isn’t too crisp because I didn’t grab a jacket to put over my flannel, and I’m sure as hell not going back upstairs to get one.

Without thinking, my feet carry me to The Huckleberry, Heartwood’s diner that is also a bar that is also, somehow, a family restaurant.

Realizing where I am, I shrug to myself and step inside, the bell at the top of the front door jingling my arrival. I slide onto a stool at the counter, eyeing the shelves displaying the morning’s rejected donuts and the army of alcohol bottles lining the wall I’m facing.

Emmeline, one of the staff, materializes before me. “Got a hankering for something sweet?” she asks, nodding to the donuts I’m looking at.

I swallow hard and choke a little. I do crave something sweet, but not food. No, it’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Giving myself a shake as if I can toss off the image of Mariah hovering in my mind’s eye, I clear my throat. “Er, better making it a drink. Something stiff.”

The young woman leans her head to one side and snaps her gum. “Whiskey okay?”

“Sure.” I don’t really care. She could serve me rat poison and I just might drink it if I thought it could clear my head.

A shriek from behind me makes me flinch. I grit my teeth, forcing my pulse to calm. It’s been so many years since I served in the military, but I still haven’t gotten used to loud noises.

Aside from the ones that vehicles that frequent my shop make, of course. Those motor sounds and screeches are music to my ears somehow.

As Emmeline slides a tumbler of whiskey across the counter toward me, I turn to see a little girl maybe three or four years old streaking from the pink-painted family restaurant section at the back of The Huck. There’s a huge smile on her face as she runs from the red-haired woman with fawn-colored skin that matches her own.

“I’m going to get you, Kiri!” says Quinn in a playful voice as she chases her daughter around the front of The Huck, red curls bobbing. A big man with a thick brown hair and an even thicker middle steps to the register at the counter to pay Emmeline.

I jut my chin at Kiri. “The kid’s looking really good,” I say to Doc Pearce he hands Emmeline some cash.

The doctor who runs Heartwood’s medical clinic grins. He’s been doing that a lot more since Quinn and Kiri came to town. “Isn’t she? Her pediatric cardiologists are amazed at her progress. A year ago they weren’t sure if her heart was strong enough for her to get around without accessibility aids.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “You did good Doc.”

He shakes his head. “It wasn’t me. I just referred her to the specialists. It’s been all them — and her.”

“No, I mean you did good taking those two under your wing last year. They’d be lost without you.”

“You’re giving me too much credit,” Doc Pearce chuckles as Emmeline hands back his change. “Quinn’s a hell of a woman, and a mother. And Kiri’s a force of nature, just like her mom.”

“Yeah, but they were in trouble, and you helped. That counts for a lot,” Emmeline points out. “You saved them.”

“I think it’s more accurate to say that they saved me,” the doctor says, voice turning thoughtful. Then he fixes his eyes on me. “The way I hear it, I’m not the only one who’s been taking in mothers in trouble.”

Emmeline’s eyes turn wide as they swivel to me. “What’s this, Ace? You finally giving up that bachelor life?”

“Nope,” I mutter, feeling the back of my neck grow hot. “Just doing Graham a favor.”

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