Page 77 of Wilderness Daddy

“Kari.” I tug her against me, holding her tight. “I need you, not for Steed and not for my parents... I need you for me... because you challenge me, infuriate me, make me doubt my sanity, but you also make me think and feel like I never have before. I’m in the mother of all tornadoes, but when you kiss me, I’m in the eye of it, and everything is still and clear and I know the world outside can be in shambles but it doesn’t matter as long as I’m with you. I love you. And I accept you for who you are just like you accept me for who I am—even my overprotective, blustery dominance.”

“Not just accept, Daddy, I love your overprotective, blustery dominance—even if I never thought I would. You’re not a control freak like my father. You always put me first.” She swipes angrily at the tears on her cheeks. “But I need you to let me put you first, too.”

“Okay. What does you putting me first mean?”

“It means you don’t sacrifice what you want for me. You want this,” she says, spinning around, looking up with her arms spread.

“I want both.”

“Both means you’d have to let me stay up here. Trust me to learn how to be safe.” Akari’s eyes are watery, but her lips are pressed and her brows knitted. “I want my independence and I can’t have that up here unless you trust me.”

“I’m always going to be protective of you. It’s who I am. And right now the circumstances aren’t normal,” I state calmly. “When they are, I’ll teach you. But not now with crazy mountain men up here, okay?”

She sighs. “You’re a pain in the ass, Steed.”

“That I am,” I say through a half smile as she takes my hand.

“Fine. You can help me find my way home tomorrow and we can talk more about us when you get back.” Her beautiful eyes narrow. “If you get back. But your head’ll likely end up on some mountain man’s wall next to moose antlers and a grizzly pelt.”

I chuckle, move my hands down to her ass and squeeze.

“Good girl. I didn’t want to spank your pretty little ass harshly again so soon.”

Later, as we sit in front of the fire and darkness falls heavy on the mountain, she’s tight against my side. I’ve draped my arm around her shoulders to keep her shivers at bay but we’re silent, watching the fire dance, listening to it crackle and pop. Neither of us are as relaxed though.

I’m not sure what’s on Kari’s mind, but she’s on edge; I can feel it. And my mind is heavy thinking of the hunters, the wild man, and the blonde woman who’s out of her element and likely scared out of her mind.

And getting Kari to safety. That weighs on my mind the heaviest.

Now that it’s dark, every noise in the woods has me on high alert. But I know they’re experienced mountain hunters and wouldn’t be moving around in the darkness.

When I feel Kari go heavy against me, I know she’s fallen asleep. I scoop her up and carry her carefully to the cot, tucking her into our sleeping bags. She moans but is too exhausted to wake. I look at her face, bathed in the firelight and lean down to kiss her.

Whatever happens when I get back, I’ll never be able to deny that I love this stubborn little girl.

A sound behind me has me shooting upright. I straighten so swiftly, I hit my head off the top of the shelter, tearing the foil blanket from the wood. I feel for my knife on my belt and remember I left it by the fire. I curse myself as I scan the darkness for the source of the sound.

The firelight doesn’t penetrate the dense darkness of the forest but I can clearly hear something or someone moving. Rushing for my knife, I hear a moan and a shushing sound. I grab a branch and hold it in the fire to make a torch.

“Who’s there?” I call out as I wait for the branch to light, but get no answer. The branch finally starts burning well so I point it in the direction of the rustling. I automatically take a step back when I see the large bushy shadow. Like Kari said, it’s huge and although it’s dark I think it might be covered in fur. It’s hovering over a long bundle on the ground.

“What do you want?” The response is low and graveled, but I’m not sure if it’s actual words or just grunts and growls.

I gaze down at the lump when it moans and when I look back up, the thing is gone, but I can hear the big bipedal creature moving swiftly through the brush. I strain, but I can’t see a damn thing.

“Wait,” I call, but the thing is so fast his sounds have faded, not that he was overly noisy in the first place. I can barely hear the rustling and cracking brush anymore. Then I move the torch light over the lump on the ground and I hear another small moan. It’s higher in pitch like a child or woman.

Leaning down, I pull the fur open and see a woman. It’s too dark to tell if it’s the same woman I met at Stella’s and then again at the outpost. My eyes dart back up to look out into the dark forest.

A whimper pulls my attention again. “Okay, let’s get you to the fire.” I try to get the woman to sit up, but she only groans. She’s hot to the touch and dead weight—fevered and only semi-conscious.

I don’t want to wake Kari, but I need help, so I call her. It takes a few shouts to rouse her, but she comes quickly as soon as she hears me.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers, her voice alert but sleep-scratchy and full of worry.

“I think your Sasquatch dropped off the girl.” I hold out the torch to her. “Can you lead the way with this so I can carry her?”

She takes the torch and I crouch to get a proper grip of the girl. She cries out when I lift her.

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