Page 6 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

Death.

I’d know it anywhere.

It comes for everyone and everything on the mountain.

I ease up on the reins as we reach the edge of the forest. “Whoa.”

Apollo steps out from the protection of the tree-covered path and onto the property cautiously, as if he, too, can sense something is off.

Movement to my left immediately draws my head in that direction, and a little dark-haired boy pops out from around a tree, blue eyes wide, staring up at me in awe…

Maybe fear.

Or a combination of both.

“Hey, buddy.” I slide off Apollo, keeping the reins in my hand as I examine the kid for any signs that he might be in trouble or alone out here. “Where’s your mom?”

The answering sound of a shotgun being racked comes from behind me.

I freeze, turning my head slowly to glance over my shoulder without making any sudden moves.

Dark amber hair whips around her face in the afternoon breeze, the sunlight glinting off it, making the natural red tint shimmer. She stares me down with brilliant Caribbean-blue eyes filled with suspicion, the sight of the gun pointed directly at my back with an unwavering aim. “Righthere.”

* * *

CAMILLE

My heart thunders against my rib cage, every muscle in my body tenses with my gaze zeroed in on the stranger standing so close to Davey, but I somehow still manage to keep the shotgun leveled squarely on the threat.

With his back to me and head turned slightly, all I can see is his profile, a single green eye assessing me where I stand, only a hundred yards from him.

At this distance, I wouldn’t miss if I pulled the trigger.

I risk glancing down at Davey a few feet to his left. “Come over here.”

His focus darts between the man and me, as if he’s debating his options. This is the first stranger he’s seen on the property since Dave died, and he’s bound to be curious. But the longer he stands there, the more queasy I become and the harder it is to hold this gun in position.

Inclining my head away from the trees, I encourage him back toward me and the safety of the cabin. “Come on.”

Davey only hesitates a moment before he rushes over and wraps his arm around my left leg, tucking his head behind my thigh shyly.

The man raises his hands, transferring the reins of his horse from one fist to the other as he turns to face me. A cut-off shirt hangs from muscular arms, unbuttoned in the front, exposing a chiseled chest and abs clearly honed by manual labor. From under thick sandy-blond hair, his soft evergreen eyes that match the trees surrounding us don’t seem threatening, nor does his body language, but that doesn’t mean anything.

Especially not up here.

Innocuous things can be deadly—something Dave taught me very early on when it came to off-grid homesteading on James Mountain.

The intruder watches me carefully, dipping his head slightly to put us more on the same level—a move likely designed to encourage me to let down my guard. “I’m Dalton James. My grandfather owns this property. We met once, sort of, when you and your husband first rented from us. You didn’t get out of the truck…”

That rainy day almost five years ago comes back in bits and pieces.

A young man standing beside Edison James as he handed the keys over to Dave…

There isn’t any reason to believe it isn’t him, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to lower this gun. Just because I know who he is doesn’t mean he isn’t a threat.

“What are you doing here?”

His gaze lifts to the clear summer sky. “I saw vultures circling the property earlier. I was concerned, especially when I found out about your husband.”

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