Page 11 of Brewing with the Mountain Man
I look up—have to crane my neck because he's so damn tall—and his eyes seem darker than before. We're frozen for a heartbeat or two, and then he steps back, leaving me holding the jar.
"Those are dried ones from last season," he says, voice carefully neutral. "The fresh ones are better, but they don't keep as long."
I focus on the truffles, trying to calm my racing pulse. "How do you find them? I hear they're not easy to locate."
"Bear's trained." At his name, the dog perks up. "Took a while to teach him, but he's got the nose for it."
“Wow.” I hand the jar back to Ledger and pat Bear’s head. “What a good boy!” He yips and paws at my leg.
Ledger chuckles. "Took me two years to get the truffle stout just right. The flavor is delicate, easy to overwhelm. But when you get that perfect combination of truffle, huckleberry, and a dark malt base..." He stops, like he's realized he's getting carried away. "It's good. That's all."
"Is that what you're entering in the contest?"
He nods, closing the notebook. "At the Deepwood Mountain Fall Festival. They have a brewing competition every year. I've never entered before, but this year..." He shrugs, and there's something vulnerable in the gesture. "Turning forty does things to your head. Makes you take stock. Figured it was time to see if I'm actually any good or if I've just been lying to myself all this time."
I understand that feeling—that need to prove something, to yourself more than anyone else.
"I'd like to try it," I hear myself say. "Your signature stout."
His eyes meet mine and he goes over to a high shelf, selecting a dark bottle with a hand-written label.
“I do want your opinion,” he says, pulling out two proper beer glasses. “You seem like someone who tells the truth.” His mouth twitches.
"I try," I mutter.
He carefully pours. "If you're going to cite me for the truffles that went into it, you should at least know if it was worth it."
The beer is as black as midnight, with a thick cream-colored head that settles slowly, clinging to the rim. He hands me a glass, and our fingers brush, sending tingles over my skin. Again.
I bring the glass to my nose first, the way I've seen people do at fancy breweries. The aroma hits me immediately—earthy and complex, with sweet berry notes underneath something dark and almost mysterious.
"Okay," I say. "That smells amazing."
I take a sip, and oh…Oh.
It's not like any beer I've ever had. The truffle flavor is there but subtle, adding depth without overwhelming. It feels like it shouldn't work but absolutely does. The huckleberry comes through at the end, a hint of sweet and tart that pushes through the rich, roasted malt. It's smooth, layered, and absolutely delicious.
"Oh my god," I breathe. "Ledger, this is...this is wonderful. There’s so many layers and so much depth." I look up at him. "It’s extraordinary."
His whole face changes. The guarded expression cracks, and what shines through is not quite a smile, but something luminous and surprised, like he didn't expect my reaction. It transforms him completely, and my entire body aches.
"Yeah?" His voice is rough as he watches me lick foam off my lip.
"Are you kidding? This is—" I take another sip, trying to find the right words. "This is competition-winning good. This is 'start your own brewery' good?"
He ducks his head, and he's blushing under that scruff. "It's just beer."
"No, it's not." I take another sip, slower, savoring. "This is passion. This is what you're meant to be doing."
He runs a hand through his hair, obviously uncomfortable with the compliments.
"What's the prize for the contest?" I ask.
"Five hundred dollars. But mostly..." He pauses, and I see the vulnerability again. "Mostly it's about being part of something. Seeing if I can still exist around people. If they can see me as someone who makes good beer instead of just..." He doesn't finish the sentence.
I think about my dad, about the way he always said that people deserve second chances. That who you were in your worst moment doesn't have to define who you are forever.
I think about the way Ledger saved my life without hesitation, the way he built this beautiful cabin, the way Bear adores him.
