Page 21 of Eco-Activist’s Mountain Men (Mountain Men Reverse Harem #4)

I hesitate half a beat, then nod sharply. "Good call. I’ll keep the med bag, leave the rest. Go—don’t lose him."

Luke dumps his gear and takes off after the wolf.

"Don’t let him out of your sight!" I yell after him. He just throws up a hand in acknowledgment, too focused on the climb to waste breath.

I strip off my rifle and backpack, yank the waterproof medical kit free.

Light enough to carry one-handed. Feels like nothing compared to the load I just shed.

I clutch it by the handle and scramble forward, my other hand grabbing at roots, branches, and jagged rocks as I haul myself up the incline—every stride an effort to keep Luke in view.

Five minutes later, both Luke and the wolf have vanished into the gloom.

Panic gnaws at me, but then—sound.

A bark. Not just once, but a wild, continuous stream of it. High, sharp, frantic.

Southpaw.

Thank God. He’s found her.

I push harder, lungs tearing, legs trembling, sweat dripping into my eyes. Another two minutes of clawing my way upward, and then—Luke’s voice, rough and urgent, calling out through the trees.

I stumble the last few yards, chest heaving, and crest a rise.

There.

Luke and Southpaw, both standing over a motionless shape crumpled on the ground.

My heart slams into my ribs. For a second, the world tilts, the air gone from my lungs.

Oh my God. No.

Is she?—?

I stumble closer, bent double, gasping like I’ve run twenty miles. My stomach lurches. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t even string words together. It feels like my insides are trying to crawl out of me.

Finally, in broken bursts between gulps of air, I manage:

"Is… she… alive?"

Luke crouches, fingers pressed against her throat. Then he looks up, steady.

"Yeah. She’s alive, Boss. Just unconscious."

The ground tilts again, but this time with sheer relief. My knees nearly give.

Thank God.

My stubborn, infuriating, impossible, beautiful Luna is alive.

I didn’t even let myself think the other possibility—not really. But seeing her laid out like that, pale and limp against the dirt—it hit me like a hammer to the chest.

The pressure of it all, the fear I’ve been swallowing down all day, breaks loose. Right there, in front of Luke and the wolf, I crack.

And for the first time in years—longer than I can even remember—I burst into tears.

I kneel down beside her small form, and the dam inside me breaks. Huge, wracking sobs burst out of me, unbidden and uncontrollable.

Oh my God. This won’t do. I can’t lose control like this. Not in front of Luke. Not now.

It’s the relief that’s done it. All this time, I’ve kept the worst fears bottled up, refusing to give them voice. But they’ve been there, gnawing at the back of my mind.

What if she wasn’t just injured?

What if she's dead?

But she’s not. She’s alive. Unconscious, but alive.

"Jack." Luke’s voice cuts through my spiral, calm and steady. "We need to get her out of here."

"What? Oh—yes. Yes."

His practical tone pulls me back to myself. He’s right. This isn’t over. Finding her is only step one. We still have to get her safely down this hillside, and night is closing in fast.

I clear my throat and force focus. "Found anything?"

Luke crouches lower, scanning her with those sharp eyes of his.

"Pretty sure she fell and hit her head. Can’t be a hundred percent, but see here?

" He points to a scuffed patch of dirt. "Looks like she slipped.

Then she twisted in midair—" he demonstrates the angle with his hands, "—and finally, she landed against this stone.

" He rests a palm on a flat rock just beside her. "That’s what knocked her out."

"Any breaks?"

"Don’t think so. Nothing obvious. She’s got a nasty gash on her shin, though. Needs cleaning and dressing. After that, the best thing is to get her back to the lodge before full dark."

"Good. Sounds like a plan."

I dig the medical bag from where I dropped it and hand it to him. Luke rifles through it, finds a sterile swab, and carefully tends to the cut, methodical even here on the mountainside.

"How’re we going to get her down?" I ask.

"I’ll carry her."

"What… all the way? I can’t let you do that, Luke."

He doesn’t look up, just shakes his head. "It’s no bother. Besides…" His jaw flexes. "I blame myself for her being out here in the first place. Shouldn’t have gone at her the way I did this morning. I should’ve been more tactful. I owe her."

"Don’t be stu—" I start, but he cuts me off.

"With respect, Boss, I’m not being stupid. I’m being practical. I can deadlift four hundred, squat three hundred. She’s what, a hundred pounds? One-ten, tops? I can carry her over my shoulder without a problem if you’ll take my rifle and pack."

He’s right, and I know it. Younger, stronger. Built for this kind of burden. My pride wants to insist we share the load, but my ranger training says you put the job in the hands of the one best suited for it. That’s Luke.

I nod once. "Alright. I’ll take the gear. If you need to swap out, let me know. Deal?"

He doesn’t waste words. Just nods, scoops her up like she weighs nothing, and in one clean motion slings her across his shoulder. She looks so small there—so fragile in the arms of a man who could bend steel with his bare hands.

We start back down the steep hillside, our steps careful, deliberate.

Southpaw trots behind us, his tail high, ears pricked, no longer the dejected shadow he’d been earlier. The wolf practically radiates pride and purpose now, as if to say, I found her. I saved her. Again.

It hits me then—how much has changed since the day Luna quite literally dropped into our lives less than two weeks ago. Two weeks—and yet everything feels different.

Eric. Toby. Luke. Me. Even Southpaw. None of us is the same man we were before she came.

Who is this woman that she can stir us up like this? She’s unconscious in Luke’s arms, and yet every one of us spent the day with her on our minds. Every one of us dropped everything to come after her.

Does this happen everywhere she goes? Does she always ignite storms in the people around her?

Sometimes it feels like she might be an angel. Other times… something else entirely. There’s a force at work here—an invisible current none of us understands.

But is she the ringmaster of it? The one pulling strings?

No. No, that doesn’t feel right. She’s as tangled in this as the rest of us. Maybe more.

And still… something else lingers. Something none of us has seen yet, but I can feel it pressing at the edges. Out there. Watching. Waiting.

I don’t know what’s coming.

But I know this—whatever’s taken hold of us hasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot.