Page 1 of Her Mountain Man Recluse

1

RIDGE

The wind howlsaround me as I secure the plywood over the window, my shoulder throbbing with pain. Cold weather always makes the old injury flare up, and I grit my teeth as I drive the final nail into the board. There’s no time to inspect my work. The frozen air claws at my skin, and the wind fights me every step of the way as I head back to my front door. It’s like wading through molasses. My arm screams in protest as I struggle forward, staggering into my cabin.

“Goddammit,” I mutter as the door slams behind me.

The storm came out of nowhere. There was no time to prepare. A few wooden boards are the only thing protecting my home from the violent weather outside, and I hope like hell it will be enough.

I wince as I collapse onto the couch. The sickening ache in my shoulder radiates all the way to my fingers, and I force myself to breathe through the pain. At least it’s warm in here. A fire roars in the hearth, and Middy is curled up in front of it, purring loudly. Her yellow eyes flutter open for a second before she closes them again with a sigh.

“Don’t know what you’re sighing about,” I grunt, reaching out my good arm to stroke her sleek black fur. “You haven’t moved all day.”

The howling wind doesn’t seem to bother her. She sleeps soundly, and I watch her for a moment before a glint of bronze draws my gaze to the mantel. My service medals blink at me in the firelight, framed by my mom before she died. She was proud as hell of my military career. I know she’d want me to keep the medals on display, but the sight of them always makes my shoulder twinge automatically. Even now, five years after my honorable discharge, the pain is a constant reminder of the horrors I witnessed in combat. It never leaves me.

The whole cabin shakes as I look at my medals, and I run a hand over my beard, feeling restless. Being stuck indoors like this isn’t good for me. Gives me too much time to think. I need the open sky, the silent forests, the frozen rivers—that’s why I bought a cabin up in the mountains. It’s the only place I feel at peace.

Civilian life never worked out for me. Hell, in some ways, it was harder than being shot at. It felt like I was an actor in a really shitty play, trying to pretend everything was normal. So I stopped trying. I retreated from the world and now I don’t have to pretend anymore. Up here, there’s no judgment, no audience to perform for, nothing but the lonely jagged peaks stretching all around me. That’s how I like things. Just me, Middy, and the wild beauty of Cherry Mountain. I live off the land, selling wood and produce to make money. It’s a simple life, and that suits me just fine.

A loud creaking sound pulls me from my thoughts. It swells above the roaring wind, and Middy starts awake, scurrying beneath the couch at the noise.

“The fuck is that?” I mutter, jumping up and peering out the window. A full moon illuminates the chaos outside, and I watchas the trees rock wildly, groaning like old ships on a stormy sea. The mysterious creaking grows louder. It fills the cabin, echoing around the walls. The ground seems to shake beneath my feet, and through the swirling snow outside, I see a dark shadow bending toward my cabin, leaning closer.

“Shit!”

An ear-splitting crack rips through the air like a gunshot. My instincts kick in. I dive beneath the table and shield my head as the giant tree crashes into my cabin. The world explodes around me. Branches rain down, glass shards, roof shingles, all smashing against the floor. I stay down, breathing hard, my mind racing at the deafening sounds.

Not a bomb. Not a gunshot. Just a tree.

Just a stupid fucking tree.

The debris seems to fall forever until eventually, there’s nothing but the sound of roaring wind billowing into my living room. I scramble to my feet and head straight for the couch, dropping to my knees. Middy is trembling in the dark, her yellow eyes wide, but she’s safe.

“Thank God.” I reach beneath the couch and pull her into my arms. She’s still terrified, squirming against me, and I shut her in the bedroom out of harm’s way. Then I head back to the living room to inspect the damage.

“Fuck.”

There’s a gaping hole in the ceiling. Through it, I can see the tree’s dark green branches, doing little to prevent wind and snow from pouring into my cabin. The window beside the fireplace is smashed, the plywood I nailed over it in splinters on the ground. The fire has been snuffed out, and I can see my breath like white mist in front of me as the temperature drops. It must be subzero out there.

Goddammit.

I work fast. Pulling on my coat, I head outside to the shed and grab a ladder, tarp, a hammer, and more nails. My shoulder is cramping in the cold, but I force myself onward, boarding up the broken window and climbing the ladder to the roof. The tree looks almost silver in the moonlight, bearing down on my cabin like a predator about to crush its prey. It’s way too heavy to shift, but I manage to push the tarp beneath the branches, covering the hole in my roof. It won’t be enough to keep us warm, but at least it will stop the snow from getting in.

Back inside the cabin, I grab everything Middy needs before heading to the bedroom and tossing some clothes into my suitcase. Once I’m packed, I kneel down and peek under the bed. Middy is glowering at me, her black fur standing on edge.

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t make the damn tree fall.”

It takes a while to lure her out, but eventually, some cat treats do the trick. I bundle her into the pet carrier, and with my luggage in one hand and Middy in the other, I walk back out into the bitter evening with a heavy heart.

Once we’re in my truck, I turn the key, and the glare of headlights illuminates my cabin. I hope like hell it can take the weight. The tree looks menacing, its shadowy branches threatening to devour my home. I don’t want to go, but I can’t risk staying here. Not when the roof could come tumbling down on us at any minute.

With a sigh, I grab my phone from my pocket. Cell service is patchy, but I get online long enough to book a nearby vacation cabin—a tiny place just a little way down the mountain. I book it for two nights. God knows how long it will take for my roof to be fixed—could be three days or three months. It’s too big a job for me to take on by myself, especially with my damn shoulder, so I’ll have to call somebody out here when the weather clears up. Until then, I’m stuck.

As we start to drive away, Middy lets out a mournful cry, scratching at the walls of her prison.

“It’s okay, kitty. We’ll be back here soon.”

I reach between the slats of the pet carrier to touch her furry head, and she nuzzles against my fingers, relaxing slightly. Then, with one last look back at my cabin, we drive away through the storm toward our temporary new home.

---