Page 8 of Comforted By The Mountain Man (Eden Ridge: Hunter Brothers #1)

The entire bath, Ryder sang Princess Gracie’s praises, then fell asleep mumbling about the Avengers he met today. Asher was leaning on Ryder’s door frame as I tucked my son in and kissed him goodnight.

Respectfully, he didn’t linger after that.

Not letting me argue, he stated he’d take me to the Distillery and back until he got his brother to look at the old pickup I drove in.

I don’t like the charity but I can’t deny I have no clue what state that truck is in.

It’s a miracle it got me across an entire state and into the mountains.

Grace arrives and like a pro, sets up Ryder’s car seat in her SUV.

“Oh,” she says. “Give me your number,” she holds out her phone.

I stare. No one other than Oscar, a couple of the girls from the clubhouse, and two MC members have my phone number. Should I change my number?

Oh, God. I’m under Oscar’s plan.

Is that easily traceable?

“Whoa, hey,” Grace’s calming voice speaks so only I can hear. “Take a deep breath in, Sierra.”

With panicked eyes, I stare into her seaform green ones, hoping she could read my mind and give me the answers.

“Breathe with me,” she says, holding my hand.

Together, we inhale and exhale until the battering ram in my chest slows. I look down at the phone in my hand like it’s a ticking bomb.

“I think I need a new phone,” I whisper what was meant for myself, but she heard.

Understanding sets in her face. “How about this. Asher’s picking you up, right?” I nod. “We have each other’s number. You need anything, want an update, twenty updates, call or text me from his phone.”

“Okay,” I agree softly.

“How about for now, we turn yours off. Your phone is old enough to remove the battery. Keep it in the cabin. We’ll get you a new one.”

I’m about to tell her I can’t afford it when she squeezes my hand again.

“Consider it my housewarming gift.”

“Grace,” I firmly say her name.

“This place has a way of healing the cracks we think have grown too deep to mend. Take the kindness where you can get it and be grateful someone or something bigger than us out there is looking out for us.”

“How old are you again?” I ask playfully.

Smiling, she laughs. “I know. Twenty-three, by the way.”

“Goodness,” I shake my head. “I’m older by a year and you still sound infinitely wiser?” I laugh.

“I was lucky to grow up with good men around me who taught me life lessons beyond my years,” she grins. “And a few experiences of my own in the city caused me to grow up quick as well. No matter our age, we’re all just stumbling along, trying to figure it out.”

“Mama, Gracie, hit the road, Jack!” Ryder kicks his feet in his car seat.

Laughing, we release the tension. Grace leans in and shocks me with a hug. Like, an honest-to-goodness hug.

“Call or text. A million times if you want,” she smiles, before high-fiving my son. “Let’s go have adventures, Buddy!”

“Yeah!” His arms shoot in the air. “Bye, Mama. Love you,” he calls out the window, and damn it, I lose it.

“Love you too, baby. Be good for Miss Grace,” I call out, not even bothering to fight the tears.

I watch my son drive away with a conflicting mix of emotions. That’s when I remember. Wiping my face, I take my old phone and turn it off. I pop open the back—it’s an old model Android—and break off the battery.

Seeing Asher’s newer Ford coming down the path, I rush inside and stuff the phone and battery into a junk drawer in the kitchen before grabbing my bag and closing the door with the temporary lock Asher installed before we went to his brother’s for dinner.

Distracted, I get in when Asher opens my door and says, good morning. We drive closer to town which I only peeked at the night we drove in.

“How was Ryder? Okay with leaving with Grace?” Asher asks.

I scoff a laugh. “More than okay. I’m surprised I got a, bye and love you Mama.”

Grinning softly, Asher nods. “Great kid,” he mumbles, and that eases my heart some.

We pull up to a large stone and brick building sitting against a lake. A sign on the wall elegantly reads, Hunter Distillery with an established year next to it. Stepping out on the pavement, the summer breeze from the lake carries aromas of barley and a hint of sweetness.

“This is kind of cool,” I say under my breath.

A rare smile lights Asher’s face. “Wait till you see inside. Come on.”

He leads the way toward a side door instead of the main entrance we parked by. The door opens and a pleasant assault of smells hits me. Warm, rich grain, charred oak and smoke, a dark sweetness, and spices.

“These are the fermentation tanks you hear bubbling,” Asher points to a row of stainless steel vessels. “That large centerpiece,” he points to a huge copper column in the middle of the main room. “That’s the still. Heart of the operation,” he says with pride.

This place means something to him. He even walks differently here.

“The aging room is back there to the right. We have a tasting room upstairs where guests on tours or for events can come and shop.”

His large, warm hand settles on my lower back.

Act cool, Sierra.

“Right up here are the offices. I’ll show you where you’ll be working.”

Asher calls Ezra to meet us upstairs and the nerves kick in. My first real, adult job. I can’t mess this up. Ryder’s and my future depend on making a start here. Even if it’s temporary.

The club reminded me, well, actually, threatened me by telling me they monitored everything I did on their computer system. If I ever “got cute” and betrayed them, Ryder would be collateral.

This new freedom feels foreign. I’m not sure I know how to operate without looking over my shoulder, questioning every move, doubting my abilities.

Ezra, who the brothers called Ghost all last night, no clue why, walks in carrying darkness in his stern frame, but when he sees me, he softens just enough to make me comfortable.

The three of us spend an hour going over the different departments, they show me their system, Ezra hands me the company laptop to take home and get familiar with. When he tells me what I’ll get paid bi-weekly, I almost choke on the sample whiskey.

I want to deny it, say it’s too much, but Asher steers the conversation away before I could. The look he gives me tells me he knew exactly what I was going to say.

I’m still reeling about what life could look like with that kind of money. Steady income. And it’ll be just mine to build a life for my son.

We follow Ezra down the mountain to town to visit their brother West’s bar, which they supply for. Part of my job will be gathering numbers from them as well.

The town is straight out of a wholesome, small town TV movie. Red brick buildings with stone pavements line quiet streets with the most breath-taking view of the mountains framing the center of town.

Is this place for real?

We walk into the most rustic, quaint, warmly lit bar I’ve ever seen. I’m used to dirty, stained, dank and dark bars. This? This is rough brick walls, beautifully crafted pure wood slab counters line the windows. The rustic, wooden barstools are thick and sturdy, stained a dark espresso.

“Of all the bars in town, you walk into mine,” West leans on the bar counter and greets.

“You’re an idiot,” Ezra mumbles.

“Ghost,” West clutches his chest. “You wound me, brother.”

“Good to see you again, West,” I smile.

“You too, Miss Sierra. Where’s my favorite little man?” he asks.

My chest tightens with unexpected gratitude for the thought. I smile, “Grace picked him up a couple hours ago. He’s in heaven, I’m sure. Doesn’t miss his Mama.”

“Of course, he misses you,” Asher says in my ear, causing a shiver to run down my spine, too delicious to be experienced in public.

West gives a knowing grin before they all launch into the business side of our visit. Just as I’m settling into a serene state and dare I say, joy, my spine stiffens.

I’ve always heard that a woman always knows.

The prickle of awareness at the back of your neck.

The anxious flutters in your chest.

The acceleration in your breathing you try to mask and control.

Multiple people could be looking at you casually, but there’s something different about being watched by someone with nefarious intentions.