Page 9 of Backed By You (Montgomery Brothers of Montana #3)

Callie

Today is…not the best day. I didn’t sleep for the second night in a row. I’m running on sheer frustration and short naps throughout the day if I can manage to fall asleep. It’s been twenty-four hours since I caught Beau sleeping on my couch. We’ve both been fairly busy with our own stuff.

Him outside, avoiding eye contact.

Me inside, trying to work on my next big project.

I peek out the front window. Beau is outside, a hammer in hand. A complete lower framework is pieced together between his taped-off stakes. God knows how long he’s been awake for to have made so much progress since yesterday.

He’s shirtless, drenched in sweat, and chugging a bottle of water that has the thick cords of his neck flexing and straining. He removes the rim from his lips and splashes his face with the remaining bit of water. My thighs clamp together when he rubs one meaty paw over his face and into his hair.

Hulk nudges my hand, indicating he needs to go out. I’m brought back to reality and attempt not to read too far into the ease in my shoulders compared to a moment ago.

It has nothing to do with the grumpy army veteran working and living outside my front door. Nope, none .

Although, I don’t know where he’s been sleeping since I kicked him off my couch. Where he slept last night…I haven’t got a clue.

After I let Hulk out back to do his business, I serve him breakfast and make myself some oatmeal. I work on a few scenes for a current screenplay between getting ready for the day and cleaning. I opt for a light lunch and give Hulk one of his chewy sticks to keep him occupied.

It’s after two o’clock when I start to get flustered by the direction my manuscript has taken. “He can’t kill her this early,” I mutter to myself, gnawing my pen cap in thought. An awful habit I picked up during a writing course in college.

My head falls back on a heavy sigh, and Hulk perks up from his dog bed by the sofa.

I smile when his tail flops three times. “Walkies?” My buddy is up on his feet, stretching a second later. I stand, too, hoping the activity will tire me out enough to sleep for longer than a few hours tonight. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

I change my clothes into my usual hiking attire and clip Hulk into his harness before packing a few water bottles, treats, and granola bars into my backpack.

We’re out the door in five minutes, passing Beau on our way to the hiking trail down the road. I idly note his pause to watch me. Given I’m wearing the same shoes he had an issue with before, I’d venture to say he’s biting his tongue from spouting another lecture on proper footwear.

I snort to myself. Wasn’t I just thinking he was cute in a grumpy, overbearing sort of way not too long ago? Clearly, I’m delusional.

Hulk and I reach the trailhead we’ve hiked over a dozen times.

The trail moves up the mountain, winding through the trees for a quarter mile before it forks into three different directions.

We’ve done the two lower-level trails, which according to the sign, are easy to moderate in difficulty, while the third is listed as challenging and strenuous.

“What’ll it be, bud?” I ask Hulk. “I wouldn’t mind a challenge today. How ‘bout you?” Having to stay focused on the hike would help me get out of my head. “Come on. This way,” I say, patting my thigh for Hulk to follow as I branch off straight ahead.

The challenging trail lives up to its name right away.

The path narrows and steepens, forcing me to watch each step carefully.

Exposed roots crisscross the dirt like nature’s tripwires.

Hulk navigates the terrain with enviable ease, his paws finding purchase where my running shoes occasionally slip on the loose earth.

“Show-off,” I mutter.

He turns his head, tongue lolling in his signature doggy grin.

An hour into the hike, the forest begins to thin. The air feels crisper in my lungs. Sweat trickles down my spine despite the cool morning, and my calves burn from exertion. This is exactly what I needed—a physical challenge to drown out the noise.

The path curves around a massive boulder, and the world opens before us.

“Oh, wow,” I breathe, coming to a stop.

We’ve reached a rocky outcrop that juts from the mountainside like a natural viewing platform.

Below us stretches a panoramic view that steals my breath.

The valley unfolds in a patchwork of emerald and gold.

The mountains beyond rise in waves of blue-grey, each range fainter than the last until they dissolve into the horizon.

“Hulk, look at this,” I whisper, though he’s already standing at attention, ears perked as he takes in the vast expanse before us.

I like to think he appreciates these views and our little adventures as much as I do.

I ease my pack off and retrieve a water bottle. I pour half into a travel bowl I keep in my bag for him before sipping the second half while I settle on a flat rock. Hulk laps at his bowl, then sits beside me. Out here, my anxieties and worries seem so small. So manageable.

The wind whispers through the pines, carrying the scent of earth and rain. A hawk circles lazily overhead, its piercing cry echoing across the valley. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the sounds and sensations wash over me.

We stay for nearly half an hour, snacking on a granola bar and dog treats while soaking in the view from every angle. I snap a few photos with my phone, though they can’t possibly capture the magic of this spot.

Eventually, I shoulder my pack, wanting to get home before dark. “Time to head back, buddy.”

The descent proves trickier than the climb. Gravity pulls at me with each step, making the steep sections treacherous. I move carefully, using nearby tree trunks for balance on the steepest parts. “Slow and steady,” I huff.

We’re about halfway down when the trail narrows alongside a drop-off I hadn’t paid any mind to on the way up. It’s not a sheer cliff, but steep enough to be dangerous—a rocky slope dotted with scrub brush falling away for at least thirty feet before leveling out.

I hug the inside of the path, keeping Hulk between me and the mountainside. My foot lands on what looks like solid ground, but proves to be loose rock hidden under a thin layer of dirt.

It happens in an instant.

My ankle twists as the ground gives way.

I throw out my arms, desperately grasping for anything stable, but there’s nothing but air.

Hulk lunges toward me, his training kicking in as he tries to stabilize me, but my momentum is too great.

Instead of saving me, he falls with me as we tumble over the edge.

I scream.

We slide, then roll. Sharp rocks tear at my clothes, my skin. I try to protect my head, but I’m spinning, disoriented. Hulk yelps somewhere nearby and I desperately want to reach for him. Pain explodes through my body each time I impact the ground.

Then something hard catches my temple.

Stars burst across my vision.

Then nothing.