Page 5 of Snowed-in With The Mountain Man
"Bastard," Ridge murmurs.
"I thought that was it. That he was gone for good." I push my half-eaten breakfast away, appetite vanishing. "Then two months ago, he showed up at my apartment. Drunk. Saying he'd changed his mind. That he wanted to be part of Chellie's life."
"And you didn't want that." Not a question. An understanding.
"How could I? He abandoned us before she was even born." My voice hardens. "But he kept coming around. Calling. Texting. Showing up at my work. Then he started saying I owed him money for 'emotional damages.' That if I didn't pay, he'd sue for custody."
"He doesn't have a case." Ridge's face is a thundercloud of controlled anger. "No judge would side with him."
"I know that logically. But he's... persuasive. Charming when he wants to be. And I was scared." I look toward the hallway where my daughter still sleeps. "Then my lease ended, and it felt like a sign. Time to start over somewhere he couldn't find us."
"Here." Ridge says it so simply. Like it's the most natural conclusion.
"I didn't know where else to go." The admission costs me pride I can't afford. "My parents moved to Arizona. I lost touch with most of my friends after Chellie was born. But I knew you'd still be here."
Ridge has always been here. In this town. On this mountain. Waiting, though I never asked him to.
"You did the right thing." He reaches across the counter, hesitates, then gently squeezes my hand. The touch sends warmth up my arm. "You and Chellie are safe here."
The simple promise unravels me. I've been holding myself together with sheer willpower for so long that his kindness feels dangerous, threatening the walls I've built to survive.
"I don't deserve your help," I whisper.
"That's not how friendship works, Stella." His hand tightens briefly on mine before releasing. "You don't have to earn safety."
A small sound from the hallway saves me from responding. Chellie stands in the doorway, stuffed bunny clutched in one hand, hair sticking up in wild disarray, eyes wide as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Mama?" Her bottom lip trembles.
I'm off the stool in an instant, crossing to lift her into my arms. "Good morning, sunshine. Did you have a good sleep?"
She nods against my shoulder, then pulls back to look curiously at Ridge. "Big," she declares, the same word she mumbled last night.
Ridge's face transforms with a smile that steals my breath. "Good morning, Chellie. I'm Ridge. Your mom's friend."
"Widge." She attempts his name, resulting in an adorable mispronunciation.
"Close enough." He stands, moving to the refrigerator. "How about some orange juice? And I think I might have some pancake mix around here somewhere."
Chellie perks up instantly. "Cakes!"
Just like that, the tension breaks. My daughter, who usually hides from strangers, is smiling at Ridge like he's hung the moon simply by offering pancakes.
And watching him smile back does something to my chest. A recognition. A dangerous hope I can't afford to entertain.
Because I know how this story ends. I come back broken. Ridge puts me back together. Then I leave again, taking another piece of his heart with me.
Only this time, I'm not alone. And the stakes have never been higher.
CHAPTER THREE
RIDGE
"More cakes, Widge!" Chellie holds up her empty plate, syrup smeared across her cheeks. Those big brown eyes, carbon copies of her mother's, make refusing impossible.
"Coming right up, princess." I pour more batter onto the griddle, watching as perfect circles form. Three days since they arrived, and I've made more pancakes than in the entire previous year.
I've never been a morning person, but I find myself waking before dawn now, eager to start coffee brewing, to hear the soft padding of tiny feet down the hallway, to see Stella's sleepy smile as she emerges from the guest room.
