Page 2 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

They’ll be turning far too soon.

Which means I have a lot more work to do.

Pops isn’t any help the way he is now…

That worry that’s become such a familiar foe gnaws at my gut as I approach the cabin, knowing what I’ll find—the same thing I have over the past few months.

A man I barely recognize some days. So unlike the one who raised me most of my life and has built a reputation for being an unbendable, unbreakable force of nature. Ruling over James Creek and all our various businesses alone for decades from up here on the mountain.

Always sharp.

Alert.

Completely on top of things.

Running everything like clockwork.

But lately, the lapses in his memory have left tasks undone…or done improperly.

And despite my best efforts, I don’t know how to fix all of it.

The old man has made it damn near impossible when he won’t let me help with anything having to do with the business…

I rest my axe on the porch next to the door, push it open, and step into an eerie silence, bracing myself for what I might see. “Pops?”

This time of day, he’s typically bustling around in the kitchen, making lunch, but the only sound is my own heavy footsteps across the hand-hewn wooden floorboards that have seen generations walk on them.

“Pops?”

I check the entire downstairs, including his office where he likes to hole up, but I don’t find any sign of him.

Same with the second-floor bedrooms and bathroom.

My chest tightens as I descend the stairs and head toward the back porch, the only other place he could be, unless he left the house—which would pose a wholeotherset of problems. He could beanywhereon the mountain by now. “Pops?”

The back door stands slightly ajar, and I release a heavy, relieved breath as I nudge it open and step out to find him sipping a cup of coffee in his Adirondack chair, staring out at the beautiful vista.

His gaze stays locked on the peaks to the north.

“Pops…didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

His head turns toward me slowly, and he raises one bushy white brow. “So, what if I did? Maybe I wanted to be left alone.”

Smartass.

Huffing a laugh, I settle onto the arm of the matching chair next to his and run a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. “How long have you been out here?”

He returns his focus to the mountains. “A while.”

“Did you see the vultures?”

Pops bobs his head and takes a sip. “Yep.”

“Looked like they were near the Bower place.”

“It did”—he glances my way—”but I’m sure the body is gone by now.”

My back stiffens, goosebumps pebbling over my exposed skin.

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