Page 42 of Mountain Man Daddy

She peeked outside, and couldn’t see Rocky anywhere, although he’d watched her take the laundry in from the line. He’d probably gone to find Mike when she’d come back inside. The bear seemed to like the connection with humans.

Avery set about making dough for bread—from her own recipe this time—as she thought further about her mountain man daddy. Alex’s warning to heed the smooth ones made her laugh suddenly. Her mountain man daddy was not a smooth man. He was gruff, short-tempered, and demanding, but he was also caring and protective, gentle even, at least when he wasn’t smacking her butt. And damn, could he make love.

When the yeast had proofed, she poured it into the flour mixture and began blending it into a dough. She left it to rise and put a few more logs in the woodstove. It wasn’t as warm as it had been the other day. The pile was empty, so she went for more. She wondered if she could chop wood like Mike, but only laughed at herself. She’d probably chop off her leg.

She took six armfuls into the cabin and piled them neatly on the shelf. As she loaded the last pile into her arms, she saw the prints. Too small to be Mike’s and too big to be hers. She looked around. Who’d been there? Suddenly feeling exposed, she dropped the logs and went back in the cabin. She turned the lock and threw the latch, leaning her back against the door, feeling the color drain from her face.

Footsteps on the porch made her spin. The door had no peephole. Panic was rising rapidly, and acid churned up her throat.

“Mike Hunter?” a voice called out, and the door shook with the man’s pounding. “It’s the police. I know you’re here. I saw your back as the door closed.”

Avery hesitated. What would she say? She couldn’t run forever, not now that she had Mike. She took a breath. She had Mike. He would take care of her. Without further thought, Avery yanked open the door.

A uniformed officer stood there, and her heart kicked into a frenzied beat. His eyes had shown surprise, so she relaxed a little.

“Hi,” she said.

“I wasn’t aware anyone but Mr. Hunter lived here. He’s kind of a recluse.” The officer took off his hat. “I’m Officer Riley of the Bathurst Police department.” He held out his hand for hers, and she shook quickly before pulling back.

“I’m just visiting.”

The cop smiled tentatively. He was her age, clean shaven, with a baby face and green eyes. He was the kind of man she might have been attracted to, before meeting Mike. Now it was the rugged, thickly muscled, impatient, bearded kind of man that held her interest.

“How do you know Mr. Hunter, ma’am?”

“Old friends,” she said quickly. “He’s not here right now.”

She was dizzy with fear. Why was he asking how she knew Mike? That was none of his concern.Shit!

“He’s fishing.”

“Right.” She didn’t fail to notice he looked around her into the cabin before glancing behind him at the property. “Living off the land. I’d miss watching the game, seeing the latest movies, and hell, Manny’s breakfast special.” He patted his lean belly. “Have you been to Manny’s?” he asked with a quirk of his brow. She shook her head, and his eyes widened.

“If you get the chance, they make the best buttermilk pancakes on the planet.”

“I think Mike enjoys his privacy. We both do, but maybe I’ll see about convincing him to take me out for pancakes sometime.” She smiled, hoping he got the hint. He looked closely at her.

“What happened to you?” Her hand went to her forehead, and her heart began to race. She’d forgotten about the wound on her forehead.

“Had a little tumble…” She paused, searching for a plausible reason. She saw the ATV by the wood pile. “I’d never been on an ATV before, sowhoop! Right off first bump.” She brushed her hands together in a slipping gesture. The officer’s eyes narrowed but quickly went back to normal.

“You a city girl?” She grinned, hopeful that it came across sincere. “How can you tell? You must be a detective?” She smiled again, this time more brightly. He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You have a name?”

“Amanda Smith,” she answered, thankfully quick enough not to draw suspicion.

“Okay, Amanda. There’s a Jeep down the valley here.” He pointed where she knew the Jeep sat in a mangled mess. You couldn’t see it from the cabin without binoculars, but she knew exactly where it was. “I noticed the broken guard rail when I was cruising by and when I followed the broken brush, I found it. You know anything about it? Seen anyone around? I ran the VIN and can’t get ahold of the owner.”

She shook her head, her heart thundering in her chest so hard she thought for sure he would hear it.

“No, we had no idea anything had happened. We haven’t seen anyone around.”

“How long have you been here?” She was starting to sweat with his inquiries and panic was welling inside her. “A few days, but Mike says there’s a cougar around here, so I’ve been staying inside mostly.” She shrugged. “He doesn’t like me out wandering around, being a city girl. He’s overprotective. And as I said nobody’s come to the cabin. Maybe they called someone for a ride.”

“Could be.” He rubbed his jaw. “How long have you known Mr. Hunter, Amanda?” The officer’s two-way radio chirped, and he held up a finger. “Go ahead. Over.”

“Jeep owner’s DOA. GSW to the head. Waiting on the coroner’s report.”

“Get forensics out here.”

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