Page 20 of Beneath the Mountain Sky (McBride Brother Lumberjacks #1)
Just like Killian and his brothers, we may not share blood, but Raven and I are sisters in the way that matters. Always there for each other. Through thick and thin. Even when we’re annoyed or angry.
“It’s just…I don’t know.” I tug at the hem of my shirt, staring down at a fraying thread. “I feel like everybody’s watching me, staring at me.”
“They probably are.”
I jerk my gaze up to meet his again. “What?”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Honeybee. Every man on McBride Mountain sees that, and every woman is probably jealous.”
He pushes off the counter and brushes past me, his shoulder gently bumping mine. Heat radiates through me from the contact, the most delicious warmth that always comes with his touch—intentional or not.
Or maybe it’s the compliment that did that.
“I need to leave in an hour.” He pauses at the door and glances back. “Will you be ready?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ll just do this batch and then get changed.”
His eyes rake over me from my leggings to my tank top, lingering on the yellowing bruises visible in various places. “You look perfect in that; don’t change a fucking thing.”
With those words, he stalks out, and just like every night when he’s left me alone in the bedroom we once shared, I feel like a part of me is walking away, a part of what I need to make things right.
* * *
KILLIAN
Liam jogs to catch up with me as I stalk across the timber yard toward one of the massive piles of logs destined to become firewood to be sold in town. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Going to chop something with this.” I lift my axe, clenched tightly in my right fist, not bothering to slow down on his account. “Maybe a lot of somethings.”
He raises a reddish brow at me. “We don’t have to do that by hand anymore, you know.”
I scowl at him. “I know…” But after my conversation with Willow this morning, I’m antsy, unable to concentrate on anything in the office, or any of the projects I’m supposed to be monitoring today, before I disappear tomorrow out on another hike for answers. “I just need to work off some tension.”
A corner of Liam’s lips twitches. “This have anything to do with me seeing you come out of the bedroom where Willow was sleeping this morning?”
My footsteps falter slightly, but I manage to catch myself before I do something stupid like fall over onto my axe. “What were you doing in the house that early?”
He smirks, his green eyes glittering mischievously. “I stopped by the diner last night. Snagged some of those bear claws Willow likes so much. I thought she might want one for breakfast.”
I was so rattled by realizing I had fallen asleep with her in my arms last night after the final time I went in to comfort her through a nightmare, that I didn’t even bother stopping in the kitchen for my typical cup of coffee and bite to eat.
I just bee-lined for the door and high-tailed it out onto the property to do exactly what I’m on my way to do right now: some manual labor designed to rip my hands open and work out some of this constant buzzing that’s vibrated through my system since she returned.
Liam continues to keep pace with me, clearly not intending to drop the line of questioning. “I saw you leave.”
“Where were you?”
He snorts and grins. “Still in the kitchen. You looked pretty fucking determined to get away, so I didn’t stop you.”
Jesus Christ.
I scrub my free palm over my beard as we reach the log pile. Of course, Liam’s right. We have machines that can do this. Plenty of employees who would do it by hand if necessary for any reason, to make the job go quickly.
But quick and easy isn’t what I want right now.
It isn’t what I need.
I grip my axe tightly and set a log up on the massive stump that’s been here so long that Dad would’ve used it, too, maybe even my grandfather. “You might want to step back.”
Liam doesn’t deserve the warning with the way he’s ribbing me, but he grins and holds up his hand, retreating a few steps so the pieces of wood that fly free won’t hit him.
He crosses his arms over his chest and watches me as I swing the axe and slam it down.
One piece flies to the left, the other coming to rest mere inches in front of Liam—which means it definitely would have hit him had he not moved.
I point my axe at him. “I wish that would’ve hit you.”
He smirks again and shrugs. “If you didn’t want me in your cabin, you shouldn’t have left it unlocked.”
“I didn’t.” I’ve been locking it every single night before I go to bed to ensure Willow feels safe , even though I’m confident the homestead is. “You must have used your key.”
Another nonchalant lift and fall of his shoulders. “Shouldn’t have given me a key, then.”
“Fucking smartass.”
I shake my head, set up another log, and send it flying.
The familiar motion comes as easily as breathing.
Muscle memory I don’t even have to think about.
Just do.
After so many years, felling trees by hand around the property and up into the mountains to help clear paths to get our machinery up to do more of the major logging operations, I could do it with my eyes closed.
I could do it asleep, the same way Willow can with her candles or bee tending at this point. Only, I destroy things while she creates them.
Two sides of a very different coin.
Liam continues to watch me, crossing his arms over his chest, like he’s waiting for something from me, some sort of offer of information I have no plans on giving him. “I saw Willow was out in her workshop this morning.”
My swing falters and misses the log, slamming down into the stump, and Liam barks out a laugh that carries across the timber yard, melting away into the sound of the machines, forklifts, and semi-trucks pulling away with loads destined for dozens of different cities across the eastern seaboard.
He chuckles low, shaking his head. “You’re really twisted up about her, aren’t you?”
I growl at him as I jiggle the axe head free from where it’s lodged in the stump. “You pointing it out doesn’t help very much.”
He nods slowly. “Look, I know things are complicated between you two, especially given how things ended.”
The tension that I had started to work away returns at the mention of our breakup, so I throw another log on the stump and send the pieces flying again.
Trying to ignore him and what he just said.
“And anyone who sees the two of you together knows that this is the real thing, Killian, so tell her the truth, and do it sooner rather than later, if you want any chance of having a future with her that you blew last time.”
Well, fuck.
I drop the head of my axe onto the ground as he turns his back and stalks away toward the office.
He’s smart enough to know to avoid a full-blown confrontation about this, and given my mood, that’s what would have happened if he had stayed and pushed.
The last thing I needed was another Liam insight at this moment, especially when I’m feeling so conflicted over my continued attraction to her when she’s broken, bruised, battered, when I know she would feel differently about me if she knew the truth.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! ”
Right now, all I want to feel is pain . The burn of exertion. The sting of my palms when I overwork them on the axe handle.
It’s what I need.
I shatter two dozen more logs before my muscles start to really feel the effort.
Then I keep going.
And going.
Working well into the afternoon, until the sun has moved across the sky, and all the men start to trail off toward their trucks to leave at the end of the day.
The door to the office opens on the far side of the property, and Connor steps out, eyes narrowing on me as he makes his way across the yard.
When he reaches me, he stands almost exactly where Liam had been, crossing his arms over his chest in the same pose, watching me splinter yet another log. “You’ve been out here for hours, Kill.”
I snarl at him, set up another log, and let it fly.
He ducks to avoid getting hit with one half of it.
“I. Fucking. Know.”
That was the whole point.
My intent.
To come out here and work myself so hard that I can’t feel anything but the aching muscles and sore hands.
“Well, did you know it’s almost dinnertime?”
Shit.
I mean, the signs suggested that. The movement of the sun. All the employees leaving. The ache in my back and shoulders.
“Are you planning on feeding Willow tonight?”
Guilt slams into my chest.
I’ve been doing my best to make her comfortable, cooking her favorite meals, comfort foods that I know she’ll enjoy. But I spent so long in my head today that I lost track of time.
“I have no idea.” I run a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. “I’ll go to the diner, pick up something to bring home.”
He nods. “Good idea. We’ll join you.”
Before I can object, Liam steps from the office, turns to lock the door, and jogs toward us. “What’s going on?”
I finally arch my back, stretching out the aching muscles. The burn feels good. Somehow, it’s a relief from the other pain that’s been eating away at me.
Connor inclines his head toward me. “We’re headed to the diner to snag dinner.”
“Great.” He grins. “Meet you guys there.”
Fucking great.
I sigh.
There will be no getting rid of them now.
Even if I would have rather enjoyed a few more minutes alone to figure out what I’m going to do when I see her again and have to fight this urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless.
This morning, I got dangerously close to doing just that in her workshop.
Get your shit together.
It’s easier said than done.
And today’s little meltdown should have helped.
But it doesn’t feel that way as I wander toward my truck, my axe still clenched in my hand, and set it across the passenger seat as I start it up and let the engine rumble.
Connor and Liam both pull away, but I pause for a second, letting my head drop to the steering wheel and tightening my hands around it, too.
Liam’s right.
I really am wrapped up in my head.
Messed the fuck up over this woman.
I want to give her everything, the life that we should have had, but I can’t, not even when she looks at me like she has every time I’ve gone into that room to comfort her.
Like I’m her white knight, her hero, not the one who destroyed her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
I slam my hand against the steering wheel, and the horn blares, jerking my head back.
“Fuck.”
I throw it into drive and pull out of the yard, pressing the button to close the massive gate behind me.
Instead of turning right to head up the mountain toward home, I make a left to go down into town, hitting Main Street a few miles from the McBride Timber yard.
My carving work lines the road on either side.
Each piece handcrafted with care.
Statements about this town, this place, the people who live here, and the wildlife we have to protect, along with the mountain.
Claire’s Bakery, the church, the courthouse, Town Hall, the police station, and the library around the town square, the bait shop and sporting goods store, the grocery and general store, the old newspaper building, now abandoned, and finally, Wilson’s diner.
Connor and Liam’s trucks stand parked in front, with a familiar car between them.
Shit.
My hands tighten on the wheel, and I pull into a spot and climb from the truck, then make my way in past the bear with a picnic basket I carved for Elaine a few years ago.
The bells above the door jingle, and she smiles at me from behind the counter, inclining her head toward the corner booth where Raven and Willow sit with Liam, while Connor stands facing them, feet planted wide and arms crossed over his chest—looking pissed the fuck off.
“You might want to deal with your brother.”
“What’s going on?”
She shrugs. “Arguing with Raven again?”
Hell.
I stalk over to him and bump his shoulder with mine, interrupting whatever he was saying. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Raven glares at Connor, her green eyes hard as emeralds, while Willow watches with a slight smirk on her lips.
Her amusement matches Liam’s. He leans back beside her in the booth, fighting a grin as he watches Connor and Raven’s battle of wills.
Connor doesn’t even look at me, refusing to back down from the staring contest he’s locked in with the blonde, who seems to get on his nerves even more than mine. “Raven and I were just discussing her most recent article she posted today.”
I raise a brow. “Which is?”
Raven drags her gaze from him and offers a saccharine-sweet smile laced with contempt. “An exposé I think you might be interested in.”
Shit.
Which means it is something I very much will not appreciate.
“Oh, yeah?”
She nods. “It’s all about relationships, how keeping secrets can sour them.”
Acid and fury crawl up my throat as I fight the desire to rail at her.
This fucking woman…
She’s calling me out the same way Liam did earlier, demanding I come clean with Willow. But it’s only been a week, and Willow is still weak. Traumatized in ways I can’t even imagine.
Raven isn’t there every night, hearing her scream. Feeling her trembling. Getting soaked with her tears.
Demanding the truth from me when she doesn’t even understand the depths of what Willow has suffered is enough to make me cross my arms over my own chest, mirroring Connor’s stance.
Because I actually agree with him.
I let my gaze drift to Willow, who watches me with wide gray eyes and one dark brow raised at me. She’s waiting for something—an explosion or the truth.
Maybe both.
But when I do come clean and discuss what happened between us, it sure as shit won’t be in front of a captive audience like this or anywhere public.
All eyes in the diner are already on us.
Elaine’s from the counter, pretending to wipe it down while watching us from the corner of her eye.
The McMahon’s in the opposite corner booth, him glancing over his shoulder to see the fireworks while his wife who faces us leans forward and whispers to him.
A young couple—clearly out of towners passing through on vacation—casting furtive glances our way.
And the few other town residents sitting at the counter, each peeking over between bites of their food.
The last thing I need is an audience for a showdown with the woman who is essentially the news source for the community.
“Sounds like you’re just stirring up trouble again, Raven.”
She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her pink lips into a smug grin. “Trouble’s my middle name.”
“Believe me…I fucking know.”
But somehow it’s the dark-haired woman across from her who’s causing me all the trouble right now.
I need to get my fucking head on straight so I can concentrate on what’s important: the search tomorrow, finding the truth.
What happened in the past between Willow and me can wait.
At least for a while.