Page 12 of Comforted By The Mountain Man (Eden Ridge: Hunter Brothers #1)

ASHER

T he morning light filters through the garage windows as I watch Ryder carefully stack another wooden block on his tower.

Two days. Two perfect days since Sierra and I crossed that line from whatever we were before to something deeper, something that feels like forever.

We haven't left the property since then and I'm in no hurry to change that.

Sierra's still sleeping upstairs, exhausted from the thorough attention I gave her last night.

The memory of her gasps and moans sends heat through my chest but I push it aside.

Right now, it's just me and the kid who's somehow managed to wrap himself around my heart just as tightly as his mother has.

"Look, Mr. Asher!" Ryder holds up his creation proudly. "It's a castle for Hulk!"

I examine his work seriously. The wooden blocks I cut and sanded years ago for potential future nieces and nephews have found their purpose sooner than expected. "That's impressive architecture. Hulk's going to need a strong castle to keep the bad guys out."

"Yeah!" He positions his action figure on top of the tallest tower. "And if they try to get in, Hulk will smash them!"

The fierce protectiveness in his four-year-old voice makes me smile. This kid has been through more than most adults, but he's still got fight in him. Still believes in heroes.

"You know what makes Hulk really strong?" I ask, settling down on the garage floor beside him.

"His muscles?"

"That's part of it. But the real strength comes from protecting the people he loves. That's what makes someone a real hero."

Ryder considers this, his small face serious. "Do you protect people you love?"

"I try to. It's one of the most important jobs a man can have."

He nods solemnly then surprises me by crawling closer and leaning against my side. "I'm really happy we came here."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because you make Mommy smile. She smiles all the time now and she doesn't look scared anymore." He pauses, fiddling with Hulk's movable arms. "I don't miss my dad."

The admission is quiet, matter-of-fact, and it hits me harder than I expected. "No?"

"No. He wasn't nice to Mommy. He yelled at her a lot and he made her cry." Ryder's voice gets smaller. "And he always made me keep secrets from her."

Every protective instinct I have roars to life. I keep my voice gentle, non-threatening. "What kind of secrets?"

Ryder's shoulders hunch inward. "Am I gonna get in trouble?"

"No, buddy. You're never going to get in trouble with me for telling the truth. Ever. I promise."

He searches my face, looking for any sign that I might be lying. Whatever he sees there must satisfy him because he nods and continues.

"Sometimes he said we were going for ice cream but we never got ice cream.

We went to these houses with mean ladies and they would put me in a room with cartoons I didn't like.

" His voice becomes even quieter. "They made weird noises from the other room and I couldn’t hear everything on the TV anyway.

And then when we got home, I had to stay away from Mommy because Dad said if I told her where we really went, she would be mad at me. "

White hot rage floods my system. That bastard.

That absolute piece of shit took this innocent kid to his hookups, traumatized him, and then made him lie to his mother about it.

Made him think Sierra would be angry with him instead of heartbroken that her son was being used as cover for Oscar's cheating.

I have to take several deep breaths before I can speak without my voice shaking with fury.

"Ryder, look at me." I wait until his brown eyes meet mine. "Your dad should never have done that. Ever. It's never okay for a grown up to ask you to lie to your mommy. The only secrets that are okay are good ones, like if we're planning a surprise for Mommy's birthday or making her a present."

He nods, processing this. "So I wasn't supposed to keep those secrets?"

"No, buddy. You weren't. And you never have to keep secrets like that again. I promise."

"Will you ask me to keep secrets from Mommy?"

"Never. If I have something to tell you, your mom can hear it too. That's how families are supposed to work."

The word slips out before I can stop it. Family. Is that what we are? What we're becoming?

"Are you going to be my new daddy?" Ryder asks with the directness only children possess.

The question stops my heart. "Would you want that?"

"Yes!" The enthusiasm in his voice is immediate, genuine. "I want you to be my daddy because you're nice to Mommy and you don't yell and you let me help build things and you make the best pancakes ever."

Something swells in my chest, so big and warm it threatens to choke me. This kid. This amazing, resilient, brave little kid wants me to be his dad. The magnitude of that trust, that acceptance, nearly undoes me.

"I would be honored to be your dad, Ryder. But that's something your mom and I would need to talk about together, okay?"

"Okay. But I hope she says yes." He launches himself at me, wrapping his small arms around my neck in a fierce hug. "I love you, Mr. Asher."

And there it is. The words that break me completely. This child, who's been through hell and back, who's learned not to trust easily, loves me. Wants me to be his father.

"I love you too, buddy," I whisper, my voice rough with emotion. "So much."

I'm still holding him when I hear soft footsteps in the doorway. Sierra stands there in one of my flannel shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, her hair messy from bed, a soft smile on her face. But I can see the tears in her eyes, the way her hand covers her heart.

She heard. She heard her son tell me he wants me to be his dad, heard me say I love him. And instead of panic or fear, there's nothing but warmth and gratitude in her expression.

"Thank you," she mouths silently.

I reach out with my free arm and she comes to us without hesitation, wrapping both Ryder and me in her embrace. For a moment, we stay like that, the three of us holding each other in my garage surrounded by scattered wooden blocks and the promise of something beautiful.

This is family. This is home. This is everything I never knew I wanted until it walked into my life and changed everything.

"Good morning, Mommy!" Ryder says, finally pulling back but staying close. "Me and Mr. Asher were talking about heroes and building castles and stuff!"

"Were you now?" Sierra's voice is slightly husky, emotional. "That sounds very important."

"It was! Mr. Asher says, real heroes protect the people they love."

Sierra's eyes meet mine over Ryder's head and I see everything she's feeling reflected there. Love, gratitude, hope, and something that looks a lot like forever.

"That's right, baby," she says softly. "They do."

The sound of tires on gravel interrupts our peaceful morning. I glance toward the driveway and spot Grayson's military issue Jeep pulling up to the house.

"Looks like we have company," I tell Sierra, who immediately tenses.

"It's okay," I assure her quickly. "It's just Grayson. My brother."

She relaxes slightly but still moves closer to Ryder instinctively. Old habits die hard and the urge to protect her son is probably always going to be her first response to unexpected visitors.

"Uncle Grayson!" Ryder bounces with excitement. He's taken to calling all my brothers 'uncle' since dinner at Beckett's and none of them have corrected him.

We make our way inside just as Grayson knocks on the front door. I open it to find my brother looking uncharacteristically tense, a manila folder tucked under his arm.

"Gray. What brings you up the mountain?"

"Need to talk to you about some business stuff." His eyes find Sierra and Ryder, and his expression softens slightly. "Morning, Sierra. Hey there, Ryder."

"Good morning," Sierra replies politely. "I was just about to give Ryder his bath anyway. Come on, baby, let's get you cleaned up."

I catch her arm gently as she passes, pressing a kiss to her cheek without thinking. It's automatic now, natural as breathing. "Take your time. We'll be here."

Sierra's cheeks flush pink but she smiles. "Okay."

I watch them head upstairs, Ryder chattering about whether he can bring Hulk into the bathtub before turning back to find Grayson watching me with an amused expression.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just interesting to see the notorious bachelor Asher Hunter kissing women goodbye like a married man."

I grunt, moving toward the kitchen. "You want coffee?"

"Sure." He follows me, still grinning. "So. Things are getting serious with Sierra."

It's not a question and I don't bother denying it. "Yeah. They are."

"Good for you. She seems like a good woman. Kid's great too."

"They are." I pour two mugs of coffee, handing one to Grayson. "What's with the folder?"

His expression turns serious again. "Got an email yesterday from some environmental protection agency. They want the timber company to submit documentation about our logging practices and environmental impact assessments. If we don't comply within thirty days, they're threatening an audit."

I frown. "That's unusual. We follow all the regulations, file all the required reports. Why the sudden interest?"

"That's what I want to know. The email was pretty vague, just demanding a bunch of paperwork we've already submitted to the state." He opens the folder, showing me printouts of official-looking documents. "Could be routine but it could also be someone with an agenda."

"We don't have anything to hide, right? All our permits are current, we follow sustainable harvesting practices."

"Of course, we don't have anything to hide. But you know how these things can go. Even if we're completely clean, an audit can tie up operations for months while they go through everything with a fine-tooth comb."

I study the documents, noting the official letterhead and formal language. Something about it feels off but I can't put my finger on what.

"Do what you need to do," I tell him. "Compile whatever they're asking for, make sure everything's documented properly. Better to be overly compliant than give them any reason to dig deeper."

"Already on it. Just wanted to give you a heads up since you're technically part owner."

His phone buzzes and he glances at it with a frown. "Shit. That's the mill foreman. We've got an equipment breakdown." He downs the rest of his coffee in one gulp. "I need to get back."

"Go. And Gray?" I catch his arm as he heads for the door. "Keep me posted on that EPA thing. If someone's targeting the business, I want to know about it."

"Will do." He pauses at the door, his expression softening. "For what it's worth, I'm happy for you. Both of you. That kid upstairs is lucky to have you in his corner."

After he leaves, I stand in the quiet kitchen for a moment, processing. The EPA inquiry bothers me more than I want to admit. The timing feels suspicious, coming just days after Sierra felt like she was being watched. It could be coincidence, but in my experience, coincidences are rare.

The sound of laughter from upstairs pulls me from my brooding thoughts. Sierra and Ryder are having some kind of splashing battle in the bathtub based on the squeals and giggles echoing down the hallway.

This. This is what matters. This woman and this kid who've somehow become my entire world in the span of a week. Whatever's coming, whatever threats might be lurking, I'll handle them. Because that's what families do. They protect each other.

I climb the stairs toward the sound of their laughter, ready to spend the rest of the day doing exactly what we've been doing for the past two days. Being together. Being happy. Being a family.

"Mr. Asher!" Ryder calls out as soon as he hears my footsteps. "Mama says we can have a movie day! Can we watch Hulk again?"

"We can watch whatever you want, buddy," I tell him, catching Sierra's eye in the bathroom mirror. She's kneeling beside the tub, sleeves rolled up, hair pulled back in a messy bun, and she's never looked more beautiful.

"Can we make popcorn?" Ryder asks.

"Of course."

"Can we build a fort in the living room?"

"Absolutely."

"Can we have ice cream for lunch?"

"Ryder," Sierra laughs. "Don't push your luck."

But I'm already nodding. "Ice cream for lunch sounds perfect for a movie day."

Sierra shakes her head but she's smiling. "You're going to spoil him."

"That's what dads are for," I say without thinking.

The words hang in the air for a moment and Sierra's breath catches. But then Ryder is cheering and splashing and demanding that I help him wash his hair like Hulk would and the moment passes.

But not really. Because as I kneel beside the bathtub, helping this amazing kid wash shampoo out of his curls while his mother watches with love shining in her eyes, I realize that I'm already Ryder's father figure in every way that matters.

And Sierra knows it too. I can see it in her face, in the way she looks at us together. We're not just playing house or testing things out anymore. We're building something real, something permanent.

We're building a family.