Page 10 of Surrendering to the Mountain Man

Gemma looks shaken, whether from the close call with the flames or our charged encounter, I can't tell. But there's no time to analyze it. The firefighters have arrived, and there's still work to be done.

I nod to Gemma, and we stand up, taking a few steps back and giving the firefighters room to work. With Everest among them, they leap into action, unrolling hoses and dousing the flaming trees near the glamping site. I'm impressed by their coordination and efficiency. Within minutes, they've established a perimeter and are actively beating back the blaze.

Gemma wraps her arms around herself, shivering despite the oppressive heat. I fight the urge to pull her into my chest and warm her up. To offer the comfort and reassurance she seems to need. But I stay back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

She jumps as a particularly large tree goes up with a whoosh, raining sparks around us. I step closer, ready to shield her if needed. But the firefighters have it under control.

"Don't worry, they know what they're doing," I say gruffly. I'm not usually one for small talk, but Gemma looks so shaken. I want to put her at ease.

She nods, eyes tracking the firefighters' progress. "I know. It's just... hard to watch your dreams go up in smoke."

I think of the generations of Nilssons who've carved out a living in these woods. If the fire spreads to our timber acres, it could devastate us, too.

"We'll stop it before it does any more damage,” I vow. I clasp her shoulder, feeling the delicate bones beneath my heavy hand. She doesn't pull away.

For a long moment, we stand united against the encroaching flames—an unlikely pair brought together by crisis. The ice between us seems to have thawed.

10

GEMMA

The rising sun reveals a landscape of charred desolation. I survey the damage with a knot in my stomach. Ash's sturdy presence beside me is my only comfort as I take in the blackened earth and smell the lingering smoke.

My beautiful gardens, once vibrant with color, are now shriveled husks. At least half the tents, my pride and joy, are collapsed ruins, their bright white canvas now singed and tattered. I mourn the loss of all the hard work and vision that went into creating this oasis in the wilderness.

But the fire only destroyed surfaces. The infrastructure, the bones of this place, still stand. There is hope. From the ashes, I can rebuild and make it even better than before.

I turn to Ash, his kind eyes creasing with concern. "Thank you for being here," I say. "I couldn't face this alone."

He nods, his strong hand gripping my shoulder. “You’ll get through this, Gemma. I'll be right here to help you."

I'm struck by his sincerity. This man, who I thought an enemy, has become a source of strength. Together, we will overcome this challenge, emerging closer... and changed.

The smoke stings my eyes, or maybe it's tears. I blink them away and square my shoulders. There is work to be done. And I'm ready.

Ash calls over his brothers, and I'm introduced to the skilled team that will help rebuild what the fire destroyed.

First is Birch, the electrician. He's all wiry energy, practically bouncing on his toes to inspect the fallen power lines. "I'll have these poles restrung and your electricity humming again in no time," he says with a wink.

Next is the burly, bearded Forest, the builder of the family. He surveys the collapsed cabins, rubbing his chin. "Nothing we can't fix up good as new," he declares. Though a man of few words, I sense care and precision in his craft.

Finally, there's Cypress, the heavy machinery operator. With his muscular arms crossed, he nods quietly at the bulldozer nearby. I know from his silent focus he'll remove debris and clear ground with skill and efficiency.

The brothers fan out to begin their work, and Ash and I join them. The air rings with the sounds of rebuilding - zapping wires, hammering nails, churning engines. Sweat drips down my neck as I haul burnt wood and plant stakes for erosion control.

Watching Ash's muscles flex as he saws planks, I feel a growing closeness. Working side by side through this crisis, we see each other's true character. The past feels unimportant compared to this shared purpose.

Seeing Ash take charge, directing his brothers with quiet authority, I'm impressed. I never expected such caring commitment from my business rival. As we work, I ask him logistic questions - how he's coordinating equipment transfers, which buildings to prioritize.

"Safety first," he says in his gruff baritone. "We'll get the structural damage secured, then focus on the details."

I'm moved by how he applies his talents - normally used for logging - to help rebuild my dream. Under that stoic exterior is a sensitive soul.

My eyes follow Ash as he saws planks, shirt soaked with sweat. His dedication reignites my desire, and I long to unravel the mysteries of this mountain man.

Watching his strong, calloused hands grip tools, I imagine them caressing me, rough skin against soft. Our shared purpose is dissolving barriers between us.

When he takes a water break, I approach. "Thank you," I say, holding his gaze. "I didn't expect this from you."

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