Page 24 of Wild for the Mountain Man
“You sure?” I ask.
“Positive,” she says. Then she smiles. “You’ve jumped out of planes into wildfires. You can do this.”
That earns a laugh from somewhere deep. “Yeah, but those fires didn’t talk back.”
Inside, the place smells like diesel and coffee, the same as it always has. Dave’s at the radio desk, headset slung around his neck, clipboard in hand. When he spots us, he straightens, the easy grin appearing before the questions.
“Well, look who finally made it off the mountain,” he says. “You two survive the great blizzard of Cady Springs?”
“Barely,” I say. “More snow than any of us expected.”
His eyes soften. “Ankle holding up?”
“It’s fine,” Lilah says. “Thanks for checking so much.”
“Of course.” He nods toward me. “I knew you were in good hands.”
That sentence hangs heavier than he means it. I rub a hand over the back of my neck, suddenly too aware of the heat in the room.
“Dave,” I start, “there’s something we should tell you. And before I do, I want you to know this didn’t start as anything but friendship. You trusted me to look out for her, and I did. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being only that.”
He studies me, all humor gone -- just the expression of a man who’s curious, but seen worse fires than bad news delivery.
“You telling me you and my daughter are together?” he asks.
“Yes.” My voice doesn’t shake, though it feels like it should. “And I care about her. Enough to stand here and say it to you first.”
For a long second, it’s just the hum of the overhead lights. Then Dave exhales, slowly.
“Well,” he says, “I can’t say I saw that coming. But I know who you are, Wade Lawson. You’ve jumped into more fires than most people would drive past. You don’t scare easy, and you don’t walk away once you start something. If you’re standing here saying this, you’ve already thought it through.”
“I have.”
He looks at Lilah next. “And you?”
She nods, clear-eyed. “This is what I want, Dad. Not a whim. I know what I’m doing.”
He sets the clipboard aside and opens his arms. “Then come here, kid.”
Lilah steps into him, hugging tight. He presses a kiss to her hair and murmurs, “Be good to my friend. He’s worth more than most men I’ve met.”
“I will,” she says, voice muffled against his shoulder.
When she steps back, Dave extends his hand to me. I take it. His grip is firm, old-school, the kind men share after years of backing each other through rough seasons.
“Take care of her,” he says.
“With everything I’ve got.”
“I figured as much,” he replies, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Now, let’s keep this quiet until the town gossip finds another hobby.”
That’s when the side door bangs open.
Caleb barrels in, backpack slung low, hair damp from melted snow. “Hey, Dad—” He stops short when he spots our joined hands. “Uh … should I come back later?”
Lilah startles but doesn’t pull away. Dave’s trying not to grin. I’m suddenly aware that my life’s about to change again.
Caleb squints between us. “Wait. You two are …?”
