Page 9 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

My heart clenches, all the struggles of the last few months weighing so heavily on me now that I can’t hold the gun up any longer and slowly lower the barrel to the packed dirt beneath my feet.

Dalton offers me a half-smile that makes him look even younger than he must be—maybe mid-twenties. “I’m going to go tie up the horse, then we’ll figure it out. Okay?”

I give him a little nod, but I can’t manage to respond otherwise without letting a sob slip out.

This entire day has been a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

And now I have to put this in the hands of this man I just met and trust that he’s going to solve a problem that has been threatening to crush me all morning.

He moves over to the fence post and ties his horse to it, leaning in to whisper something to him and pat his neck gently a few times.

The animal nudges him affectionately.

A good sign.

If the horse likes him, he can’t be all bad…

Dalton advances toward me slowly—cautiously closing the distance that existed between us only moments ago.

My back immediately stiffens, one hand tightening around the gun and the other on Davey’s head, where he still clings to me.

The younger James stops a few feet in front of me, and this close, I can see the tiny little flecks of gold in his green eyes. He smiles, and this time, it reaches them fully as he squats. “Hi, Davey. I’m Dalton.”

He holds out his palm, and Davey glances up at me for permission. I nod, and he reaches forward and gives Dalton a high five with a giggle that helps relieve a little of my concern.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Dalton grins up at me in a way most women would melt over. “You, too, formally. Though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

Some of the tension in my shoulders relaxes slightly. “Same.”

When we moved up here, everyone told us the James family controlled everything, owned most of the town named after them and all the mountain range visible in the area, but they also said that Dalton’s grandfather was a kind man, one who could be trusted.

In my limited contacts with him since we arrived, that’s proven true.

I just hope his grandson is cut from the same cloth.

He pushes to his feet and glances back toward the paddock. “How long has she been out?”

“Hours. Maybe six.”

His jaw tightens. “Then I need to move quickly.”

“What are you going to do?”

He surveys the area around the small clearing the cabin and barn sit in. “Hey, Davey, I see some buttercups over there. Why don’t you go pick some for your mom and me? I bet they’d look really pretty in the house.”

Davey smiles and looks up at me.

I nod. “Go ahead.”

He rushes toward them, happy to have a reason to dig in the dirt.

Dalton steps closer to me, cautiously checking Davey’s progress to ensure he’s not in earshot. “I’m going to have to break down the body.” He looks toward the barn. “It’s been sitting out too long to save any of the meat that might have been usable, and she’s likely too big to carry her whole, even with the backhoe.”

I squeeze my eyes closed as my stomach roils violently.

No matter how often it happens, the taste in the back of my throat threatens to overwhelm me.

Breathe.

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