Page 2 of Mountain Boss

I’ve seen mountains on my drive today. Seen a few over the last couple days as I traveled from North Carolina to Colorado.

But this view…

The snowcapped peaks before me…

I aminthe mountains.

I reach out and pat the dash of my Jeep again. “Just a little way left, old girl.”

Consulting my phone again, I see that my turn is in half a mile.

Still no other vehicles in sight, I coast, squinting against the bright orange of the setting sun.

And then I see it.

The sign marking the next phase of my life.

I force myself to take a slow, deep breath.

Because I’m here.

Black Mountain Lodge

Chapter 2

Sterling Black

I pause,towel still draped over my head.

It’s faint, but after years of living out here, my hearing is attuned to catch the sound of tires on gravel through the open windows.

I yank the towel off and toss it over the edge of the tub.

My new employee isn’t technically late, but they’re pushing it by showing up at sundown since the roads out here can be treacherous with wildlife, sharp turns, and no streetlamps to speak of.

After pulling on a clean pair of boxers, I reach for the jeans I left on the floor and decide to be grateful the guy showed up now and not ten minutes ago. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have heard him over the shower.

Buttoning my pants, I step into my bedroom and look out the window.

Sure enough, I spot the shine of headlights bumping their way through the trees.

I try not to think about Marty as I grab my flannel off the foot of the bed. Retiring so he can go live near his grandchildren isn’t something I can actually be mad about. But having to train a new maintenance guy is going to be annoying as fuck.

My bare feet slap on the steps as I jog down to the main floor.

Black Mountain Lodge is a cluster of cabins spread through the woods rather than a single building, as the name might suggest.

My house is the only two-story building on the property. But it’s still just a modest-sized three-bedroom A-frame structure with the main suite upstairs and everything else on the lower level, with an attached garage off to the side.

I shove my feet into my unlaced boots and step through the front door onto my covered patio.

It won’t take long to settle Court into the Bunk House, and once he’s moved in, I’m kicking my boots back off and spending the rest of the night on the couch in front of the TV.

Pulling on my flannel, I look around at what could be considered my front yard while I wait for my newest employee.

The gravel driveway ends in front of my house in a wide circle large enough for vehicles to turn around. And lining the driveway, then farther off into the trees, are the cabins. Several of them.

The paths between buildings, and leading to and from the driveway, are crude. Mostly just packed dirt from years of boots walking the same route.

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