Page 2 of Caught By the Lumberjack

He stopped a few feet away, his eyes—a startling shade of blue that reminded me of mountain lakes—narrowing as they took in the chain, the lock, and finally my face.

"Lady, you're trespassing on private property and interfering with a legal logging operation." His voice was deep and gravelly, like rocks tumbling down a mountainside.

"I'm exercising my right to peaceful protest," I countered. "This tree is older than your company, your grandfather, and probably this entire town."

His jaw clenched visibly. Behind him, I noticed several other men emerging from the truck—the logging crew, I presumed. They hung back, watching the confrontation with expressions ranging from amusement to annoyance.

"I'm Vaughn Ridgeway," he said, as if that name should mean something to me. When I didn't react, he elaborated, "Of Ridgeway Logging and Timber. The company whose schedule you're currently screwing with."

"I'm Clementine Fox," I replied, "of Planet Earth. The planetyourcompany is currently screwing with."

A muscle twitched in his cheek. "Listen, Flower Child—"

"My name is Clementine."

"Fine.Clementine. I don't know what tree-hugging fantasy brought you all the way out here from..." He paused, eyeing my van visible in the distance. "California? But this is completely misguided."

"Misguided?" I bristled. "What's misguided is thinking old-growth forests are just dollar signs waiting to be harvested."

He crossed his arms over his chest, and I absolutely did not notice how the movement strained his flannel shirt across his shoulders.

"You have exactly five minutes to unlock yourself before I call the sheriff," he threatened.

I settled more firmly against the tree, the chain clinking with my movement. "Go ahead. I've got nothing but time."

For a moment, he just stared at me, looking both irritated and—if I wasn't mistaken—grudgingly impressed. Then he turned to one of the men behind him. "Phil, get me the bolt cutters from the truck."

My heart rate quickened. "You can't do that!"

"Watch me," Vaughn growled.

The man named Phil jogged back to the truck and returned moments later with a pair of intimidating-looking bolt cutters. I wrapped my arms around the tree as tightly as I could.

"I'll just chain myself to another one," I warned.

"Not if I confiscate your hippie hardware," Vaughn countered, taking the bolt cutters from Phil.

He crouched beside me, his face now level with mine. This close, I could see flecks of gray in his blue eyes and smellthe faint scent of coffee and pine that clung to him. It was... not unpleasant.

"Last chance," he said, his voice lower now. "Unlock yourself voluntarily."

"Not happening, Lumber Jack," I said, infusing my voice with a bravado I didn't entirely feel.

He sighed, then positioned the bolt cutters around the chain near the lock. With one powerful squeeze of his hands, the metal links snapped apart. Before I could process what was happening, he had me by the waist, physically lifting me away from the tree.

"Hey!" I protested, my legs kicking uselessly in the air. "Put me down!"

The chain, still attached to the lock around my waist, dangled uselessly as Vaughn carried me bodily toward the edge of the clearing. His arms were like steel bands around me, and despite my outrage, I couldn't help noticing how easily he held me, as if I weighed nothing at all.

"This is assault!" I shouted, struggling against his grip. "And theft of personal property!"

He set me down just shy of where my van was parked, his hands lingering on my waist a moment longer than necessary. "This is me removing a trespasser from private property," he corrected. "A trespasser who was about to encounter some very dangerous equipment tomorrow morning."

I shoved his chest, though it was like pushing against a brick wall. "You're destroying centuries-old trees for profit!"

"I'm sustainably harvesting timber on land that's been in my family for generations," he countered, his face now inches from mine as he leaned down to my level. "We replant every acre we harvest."

"Oh please," I scoffed, ignoring the inappropriate flutter in my stomach at his proximity. "Spare me the corporate greenwashing."

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