Page 23 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

“The general store.”

“Good.” He examines the current woefully inadequate stock for the two cows, one horse, three goats, and half a dozen chickens I currently have. “We own that, so it won’t be a problem for me to get enough sent up here to last you through the winter.”

“I can’t—” I swallow thickly, embarrassment heating my cheeks. “I can’t pay for that.”

His soft eyes meet mine, a knowing in them that makes my tears burn anew. “I understand that, Camille. I’m not worried about the money. I’m worried about you and Davey and your animals making it through winter.”

That’sthousandsof dollars of feed he’s offering me, in addition to his physical help, and he says it like it’snothing.Like he doesn’t even have tothinkabout it.

He walks past me before I can say anything, making his way across the exterior pens and out the gate toward the greenhouse that has seen better days. The door hangs cockeyed off broken hinges, and half the roof panels lay in pieces where there should be additional food we could be canning and storing beyond what the garden could produce if I had time for it.

“When was the last time you had anything growing in here?”

“March. When that big storm came through, it destroyed it. Dave was going to fix it up in time for me to plant a winter crop, but…”

I can’t bring myself to say it, and thankfully, Dalton doesn’t turn back and look at me—almost like he knows what he’ll find and wants to give me a moment to compose myself.

He stares up at the damage and tugs open the door the rest of the way to peer inside. “I can get this fixed up in a few days once I get the supplies ordered and delivered.”

My chest tightens, and I step around him and into the door frame, effectively blocking him from entering. “You can’t spend that much time or money on this. You have your own property to take care of…and your grandfather.”

Dalton steps forward and places his hand on my forearm, squeezing it gently. Warmth spreads from where his calloused fingers brush against my sensitive skin, rushing up my arm. “We’ll be fine.” A steeliness fills his emerald gaze. It’s more than determination. It’s a sheer force of will I haven’t seen before—from anyone. “And I don’t care what it takes; I’m going to ensure that you will be, too.”

ChapterFour

CAMILLE

Pulling onto the James homestead, my stomach knots violently, and I will the churning bile to stay down. I already had to delay leaving to come here by an hour due to the morning sickness that seems intent on making waking up an awful experience, and it wouldn’t make a very good first impression with Dalton’s grandfather if I puked all over him or his cabin.

I glance into the back at Davey bouncing in his car seat, clapping his hands excitedly as he takes in their two-story cabin and the land surrounding it. “Are you excited, Bub?”

He nods.

“Remember what I told you. We have to be on our best behavior while we’re here. Dalton’s grandfather is older, and I don’t know how he’ll react to having you running around wild in their house, okay?”

Davey bobs his head again. “Okay, Mama.”

Hopefully, I brought enough things to occupy him while we’re here.

I glance at the bag on the passenger seat filled with a few toys and snacks.

No matter how good he normally is, his energy needs to be channeled. And I can’t help but worry about how an unwell old man will react to having a rambunctious little one invading his personal space while I try to pry into his medical situation.

I pull up near the steps leading to the porch, throw the truck into park, and turn off the engine. Almost immediately, the cabin door swings open, and Dalton appears with a broad smile that makes those gold flecks in his eyes sparkle in the early morning light.

That relief I’ve felt over the last two days since he appeared as our savior floods back through me, releasing the tension I felt the entire drive here.

He actually lookshappyto see us as he crosses the small porch and heads down two steps to where we’re parked. Before I can even move to do it, Dalton opens the door for me, the muscles in his bare arms flexing as he leans against it casually in what appears to be his favorite apparel—another unbuttoned, cut-off plaid shirt. “You made it.”

My lips pull into a smile I actually feel for the first time in months at the welcome reception. I nod, trying to avert my gaze from all the hard, exposed flesh that’s impossiblenotto see. “We did. Sorry we’re a little later than I had planned. How’s your grandfather this morning?”

His body goes rigid, his jaw locking as he glances up at the home that’s probably stood here for over a hundred years, given his family’s history with the area. Maybe longer. “Better than he has been…”

The pain in his expression is all too familiar.

It’s the same look I saw on the faces of so many families waiting anxiously for updates on my patients over the years when I was working in the ER. It’s the kind of anguish we were trying to get away from when we moved up here by separating ourselves from the disease and violence and all-around ugliness of the world, but I should have known it would follow us. There is no escaping the things life can do to you, whether you’re in the city or up on a mountain.

I slide out of the truck, only a sliver of space between us now, and I rest my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I’ll do what I can. I promise.”

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