Page 1 of Claimed By the Mountain Man

ONE

GAGE

I jerked awake with a start, gasping for air, the sheets twisted around me like restraints. My skin was slick with sweat, my pulse hammering against my ribs. Hazel eyes, bright, full of mischief and warmth, seared into my mind. But in the dream, they weren’t smiling. They were wide with terror, pleading, desperate. His voice echoed in the dark, calling my name, a raw, gut-wrenching sound that shredded me from the inside out.Help me. Please.But I hadn’t been there. I would never know if Jonah had screamed for me in his final moments, but the possibility alone was enough to break me. The nightmares had been quiet for a while, but now they were back, carving into my heart like arustyblade. And with the anniversary of his death closing in, I knew this was just the beginning.

I walked though my morning routine on autopilot, making coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast before sitting down to eat. I’m not sure I even tasted the food or the coffee, but it gave me the energy to start my day, which was really all that mattered. Just another day in the workshop, another day existing. Another day of pretending I’m okay. So, I pushed everything down—the grief,the guilt, the pain—and got on with it… just like I did every other day.

My back ached as I hunched over the table saw cutting planks for my latest consignment piece, the high-pitched whine of the saw grounding me in the moment. At this point, the sound was soothing to me, almost like white noise. The sounds of the power tools I used for my craft never bothered me. It was the silence that did me in every time. It ate away at my soul, giving my mind too much room to slip into memories I didn’t dare relive. As I looked up and my eyes settled on the world outside my workshop, I realized it was getting dark already.When had that happened?I would swear I had just started working on this piece. I was actually really excited about this one. It was going to be a custom fireplace mantle with a three-dimensional landscape of Fire Mountain carved into it, and it was made entirely from reclaimed wood I’d found at an old, abandoned Abbey. As excited as I was, though, it was time to knock off for the day. If I pushed my back much further, I’d be dealing with excruciating pain the next day. So, I shut down all the equipment and was just about to lock the workshop door when a man appeared there.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I was hoping to place an order with you for a custom bed. I hope I’m not too late.”

The man had what I assumed was his young son with him. The boy, who looked to be about three years old, stared around the workshop, taking in everything with curious eyes even as he clung to his father’s leg. The sight brought a smile to my face and a sheen to my eyes. It took me aback like a physical shove to the middle of my chest. I was emotionally unprepared for the unwelcome assault, feeling as though I had been hurtledbackward through time. The man spoke again, but it took me a minute to hear him over the blood rushing in my ears.

“Mr. Holloway? Are we too late to place an order today?” he asked.

“N-no,” I stuttered out. “It’s fine. I was just getting ready to close, but I’ve got time. Come on in. What can I do for you? And, please, call me Gage.”

He smiled down at his son, then back at me, as they entered. “Nice to meet you, Gage.” He stuck out his hand, and I shook it firmly. “I’m Carter, and this is my son, Timothy. Say hello to the nice man, Tim.”

The boy met my eyes briefly, uttering a soft “Hello” before burying his face into his father’s side again. The man ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately before addressing me again. “He’s a little shy around new people.”

I managed a small smile, even though the blood was still rushing in my ears, and my heart was beating so fast, I worried I might keel over right there. “What can I help you with, Carter?”

He smiled down at his son again and said, “Well, this one here is ready for his first big-boy bed. Aren’t you, son?” Timothy looked up at him, nodding his head excitedly, looking like the world’s cutest bobble head. “We want to get something special for him, something more than just another plastic race-car bed. Tell him what you want, son.”

The boy faltered at first, but as his father gave him an encouraging nod of his head, the boy’s eyes finally met mine. “I w-want a dinosaur, please,” he said, sounding out the “o” in dinosaur with a little extra emphasis. “I want to sleep in the dinosaur’s belly,” he giggled out. The sound was so unusual tohear in this environment that it caught me off guard, and I balked a little. His father mistook my reaction for reluctance.

“Um, we understand this might be a tall order and certainly unusual. But I’m really hoping you can help us. Have you seen those giant cat beds on TikTok that are so popular now?”

“I’m not much for social media, I’m afraid. I have a website, but that’s about it. Giant cat bed, you say?”

The man’s eyes lit up, and he pulled his phone out to show me.Yep, that was a giant cat bed, alright. And these looked to be adult-sized, even. What the hell? Can you imagine showing up at your date’s house and finding out she sleeps in a giant cat bed?I tried not to let the horror show on my face, though, especially when I noticed the pure look of glee on the boy’s face.

The man hurried on with his explanation. “We thought we could do something like that for Tim, but with a dinosaur instead of a cat. We have some rough sketches here to show you what we mean,” he said, handing over a couple of pieces of paper. One of them was clearly drawn by the child, and my heart stuttered a little looking at it, my mind threatening once again to plunge me into the past. The other piece of paper was the same drawing obviously upgraded by the father to be a bit more usable for my purposes. As I stared at the pictures, I heard Carter ask, “Is that something you think you could do?”

I wanted to say no, but one look at Timothy’s hopeful face sealed my fate. No way could I look into that face and crush his hopes. “Yeah… sure. I think we could pull that off.”

A long, excited cry of “Yeaaaaa” burst from the boy as he hopped up and down. “I gonna sleep in a dinosaur’s belly! Just like how my baby sister sleeps in mommy’s belly. Right, Daddy?”

“That’s right, son. And you’re gonna have the coolest bed in the whole house!” His son nodded again, barely able to hold in his excitement. Carter leaned into me a bit to whisper something he didn’t want his boy to hear.

“He’s been having a hard time with the idea of having a new baby in the house in a few months. He’s not quite ready to share us yet. We were hoping this would be a fun distraction for him and a way to feel special as the big brother. “

I nodded my understanding. “This might take me awhile, but we’ll get it done. I’m going to need to bring someone in to do the upholstering. I do a little, but I think this is going to be outside of my limited skill set. I’ll look over your sketches and draft something up. Just leave me your contact information, and I’ll get an estimate to you soon. Sound good?” I was holding it together on the outside, but I really needed for them to leave.

“Sure thing,” he said, handing me a business card. “My personal cell is on the back. Call me anytime. And there’s an email on there, as well, where you can send the estimate. Thank you so much for your time, Gage. Sorry again for catching you so close to closing.”

I did my best to give him an encouraging smile as I replied. “No worries. You’re all good.” I gave him another quick handshake before gently guiding them to the door. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Perfect, thank you.” He looked at his son with an indulgent smile. “You ready to go, buddy?” Timothy nodded his head again at his father. “Tell the nice man thank you.”

“Tank you, mister, for making me a dinosaur bed. I can’t wait to sleep in it!” he exclaimed, his excitement in the moment overcoming his shyness.

His little smile and the pure joy on his face was absolutely breathtaking… and almost more than I could bear. I gave them both a slight wave as I ushered them out the door. Before I closed it, I saw the man lift the boy up onto his shoulders to carry him to the car, causing the child to laugh uproariously as only children can. And as I pushed the door closed and locked it, I collapsed onto the floor of the workshop, desperately trying to catch my breath. Still reeling from the nightmare even hours later, the sight of the father and son together and the genuine love between them tore at my heart. Them celebrating this milestone of moving him to a big-boy bed… I remembered that feeling. But for me, that joy had been all too fleeting. So few nights spent in that bed before… I couldn’t even bear to think about it. I don’t know how long I sat there on the floor, just trying to calm my breathing and my racing heart. But, eventually, I pulled myself up and stumbled through the attached breezeway to my home.

As I walked in, I let my eyes roam the spartan decor. I’d been here for nearly two years, and it still looked as if I’d just moved in. The truth was, I spent very little time in my actual house, choosing to spend as much time as possible in my workshop instead. The house was too quiet, and I often left the television running just for the noise. After fixing myself a quick dinner and scrolling through channel after channel of mindless television, I found I was restless—entirely too restless to stay home alone. For as much as I valued the solitude I’d found here, I still craved a certain amount of human connection, if only at the most basic level. That was why I often found myself tucked into an isolated booth in the local tavern most nights, nursing a whiskey. It seemed tonight would be no different.

Thirty minutes later, and I was walking through the door of The Lazy Local, though most of the town’s folk just called it TheLocal. Not the most imaginative name, but it seemed to work for the welcoming and laidback atmosphere of the place. This was truly a bar for the Ashwood locals. It wasn’t a ritzy, tourist trap like so many others. It was a place to unwind after a long day of working on the mountain. I pushed open the front door to make my way into the bar, expecting to be greeted by Jim, the gruff, older man who owned the place. He never failed to notice me come in and usually greeted me with a nod before gesturing with his head to my regular booth. It was almost always open, tucked away in a dark corner as it was. Not exactly ideal for mingling with the crowd… which suited me perfectly. I looked up, ready to meet Jim’s eye and relay my usual drink order, not that he needed me to at this point. He probably knew it better than I did.

---