Page 77 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

“No, they left when we got there.”

Shit.

That certainly isn’t a good sign.

Why would anyone up at the lakeleavewhen Pops arrives?

Unless they shouldn’t have been there…

All that worry about what’s been going on behind the scenes with the lawyer who confronted Dalton in James Creek rushes back.

Are they connected?

Does Dalton know?

The way Pops pulled him into the kitchen when they got back and then disappeared into the office shortly thereafter suddenly makes a lot more sense.

Of course, he knows.

That’s why they were acting so strangely at dinner.

Quiet.

Reserved.

Sending each other quick looks when Dalton wasn’t busy trying to assess me with his heated gaze.

They’re worried.

And now panic starts to creep in, despite my best efforts to keep it at bay.

It’s been months since I overheard that conversation between them, since I learned that someone might try to interfere with their land, with their ownership of the mountain. As far as I know, nothing has happened, but that doesn’t mean it won’t. It doesn’t mean itcan’t.

This could be thatsomething.

By the time I pull onto the property and park in front of the cabin, my anxiety has ramped up so much that my hands shake as I try to open my truck door. I manage to get Davey out of his car seat in the back and turn toward the front door when the sound of tires crunching on gravel hits my ears, coming from the winding road that leads to our homestead.

Shit.

I quickly scoop him up, balancing him on my hip as much as I can, ready to run with him into the house to where I have the shotgun stashed if I need to.

Whoever those men were might still be around, might be after whatever they came here for, and God only knows what that could be. Or whether they would comeherelooking for it.

I back toward the house, keeping my focus on the dark gap between the trees where any vehicles coming will appear.

Bright headlights momentarily blind me as they make the final turn, and I raise one hand to dampen them as I almost reach the porch. A truck stops a few feet behind mine and shuts off, but the lights stay on, impairing my ability to see the driver.

Every muscle in my body tenses, ready to take the few steps up to the porch and dash into the house to snag the shotgun…

The truck door opens and closes, and someone steps into the light. With it backlighting whoever it is, it would make it impossible for anyone to identify the driver.

If I didn’t know that body so well…

A relieved breath rushes from my chest as Dalton rounds the front of the truck fully and moves toward us.

“Jesus, Dalton, you scared the shit out of me.”

He approaches with a furrowed brow. “I didn’t know you left.”

---