Page 5 of Chiseled Mountain Man

Iwouldn’t have known this charming woodshed was back here if I hadn’t tripped and fallen on the trail. But then, there was a heck of a lot I wouldn’t have known if not for that fall, including what was going on here between me and Sean.

“This is my current project,” he said. “Rusty.”

I turned to see him standing next to a stool. In front of that stool was a large chunk of wood that had a rounded top.

“Rusty?” I asked.

The object was made from wood, so it couldn’t possibly rust. Maybe he was using the term ironically.

“The dog I had growing up,” he said. “He got me through a lot of rough times.”

There was something in the way Sean said those words that got to me. A hint of darkness. But his expression didn’t change. It was all in his tone of voice.

“Golden retriever,” he said. “The sweetest dog you’ll ever see. This is my way of paying tribute to him.”

It touched my heart, the thought of this big, burly hunk of a man crafting his childhood dog out of wood. “You don’t have a dog now?”

Stupid question. Obviously, he didn’t. But I was curious about this man who lived all alone in the middle of nowhere. There were other cabins. I’d passed one not far back. But his nearest neighbor wasn’t even within shouting distance, and I had a feeling this guy wasn’t exactly making casseroles for his neighbors on the regular.

“I’m not home enough,” he said. “I’d love to have one, but I work pretty long hours. I was about to head out when I saw you.”

“Oh my gosh.” I pressed my hands to my chest. “Did I make you late for work? I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Things are pretty flexible right now. It’s all new. Boss man lets us do our own thing. I’m sure that’ll change once things really get going, but right now…”

“Still, I should go.”

“Oh yeah, right.”

He nodded, but there was a hint of hurt in his eyes, and I immediately felt like crap. I didn’t want to keep him from working, but I also didn’t want to go. Not by a long shot.

“Can you show me?” I asked, looking at the block of wood. “I don’t want to keep you from work, but?—”

Much to my surprise, he seemed to light up at that. It was the first time I’d seen anything resembling emotion from him.

“Sure,” he said. “Have a seat.”

I hadn’t noticed the stool behind me until he pointed. I perched on it awkwardly as he got to work, picking up a chisel and knife. The sound of him chipping away at the wood filled the tiny shed. Minute after minute, it was the only sound. He didn’t speak as he worked, and for once I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

This was the most relaxed I’d felt in months, maybe years—just watching this gorgeous man carve wood. I was so caught up in watching, I lost track of time until suddenly I remembered I was supposed to be somewhere. I could do without breakfastand make my shower quick, but I’d be pushing it to get to the tent ahead of the ten o’clock start time.

“Oh my gosh.” I stood. “I’m so sorry. I have to go. Can I come back and see this later? Maybe tonight?”

He looked up, and it was clear I’d pulled him out of what was basically an artistic trance. He’d been so caught up in his work, he might have even forgotten I was here, so he shouldn’t miss me when I was gone, right?

Wrong. Disappointment flickered in his eyes before he caught himself and resumed his completely neutral expression.

“I’ll be back,” I said. “I promise. They’ll announce the winners by four, and I’ll come straight here afterward.”

It was a good three miles from the lodge, which meant I’d have to haul ass to get to the baking tent on time, but coming back would be fun. We could celebrate my win.

“I’ll be here,” he said.

I started stepping backward without breaking the stare. Finally, I flipped around and rushed from the shed, telling myself I was moving fast, not because I didn’t want to be late, but because I was afraid if I stuck around any longer, I’d say something to mess this up.

I always said something to mess things up, and this was too important to risk.

4

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