Page 44 of Eco-Activist’s Mountain Men (Mountain Men Reverse Harem #4)

LUNA

I t's amazing what can happen in a single year—especially a year filled with love, friendship, and, to be brutally honest, a hell of a lot of hard work.

We've all put in long hours, though, of course, I had to slow down once the twins arrived. They're three months old now—two identical little girls with blonde wisps of hair, button noses, and delicate cheekbones. We like to think they've inherited their grandmother's beauty.

She, of course, is over the moon. Mom and Daddy often fly in to visit, and we've kept the old lodge for the team.

But up near the plunge pool, overlooking the valley, we built a new family house.

The sunsets from the verandah are breathtaking.

Luke even made me a swing. On summer evenings, I sit there with Emily and Denise in my arms, rocking gently, watching the birds wheel and dive, while the sound of my mountain men working drifts around me.

Eric's drone program won us an incredible new contract.

We invested several hundred thousand dollars into the tech, and it's already paying off.

We can see further, faster, and at lower cost than ever before.

That means tighter control and better management, not just of our own land, but of the forests we manage for the US Forestry Service.

And Eric is now officially Dr. Eric. We all went to his award ceremony and cheered like maniacs. Naturally, he blushed bright pink—but he wouldn't be Eric if he were completely comfortable with attention. We love him just the way he is.

Toby has surprised us all as a father. His rough humor has softened, though not disappeared, and he still flirts with every woman he meets—probably without even realizing it. I don't mind. I know he'll never act on it, and I trust him completely.

As for Jack, stepping into the CEO role has changed him. He's steadier, more assured, and, most of all, deeply happy. And really, isn't that what matters?

And Luke… well, I still tease him and call him a sasquatch, and he still pretends to scowl. But you should see him with our daughters—this giant of a man with hands like shovels, brushing the hair from their eyes and kissing them goodnight. It's so tender it makes my throat ache.

And then there's Southpaw. After a full recovery, we all walked the reopened track to bring him home from the vet.

I cried into his fur and thanked him for saving my life.

He just whimpered and licked my ear. How I ever hesitated to love him, I'll never know.

Now he's part of me, of us. He's saved my life three times over—surely that has to be some kind of record.

Since the twins were born, he hardly leaves our side. Always watchful, always patient. He won't let strangers near them, but he lets the girls tug his ears and pull his tail without complaint. Honestly, the big soppy brute is as besotted with them as the rest of us are.

The business is thriving. With every new contract, we grow stronger. Toby jokes that I should slow down on sales because they can't keep up. We'll see about that.

Not all news has been happy. Poor Pat lost his wife, Mary, in February.

He's gone to live with his daughter and son-in-law, but before he left, we planted a Douglas fir in her memory at the edge of the yard.

We all held hands and said a prayer. We'll watch that tree grow, strong and sheltering, just as she was for him.

In some ways, we owe everything to Pat and Mary.

And perhaps, in a strange way, even to Tim Collier.

He was found guilty of assault with intent to kill. His lawyer pleaded diminished responsibility, and he got twelve years. He'll likely be out in six. I'm not worried. By all accounts, he isn't the man he once was. It's sad—he had talent—but he chose to throw it away.

Did he get off lightly? Maybe. But on the other hand, he lost his home, his business, and his freedom.

Worse, when his wife found out what he'd been up to, she filed for divorce and took the kids.

He's forty now, so he'll be inside until at least forty-six.

And when he does get out, well, he'll be starting with nothing, and he'll have to live with the knowledge of just how badly he lost to us.

I know I shouldn't, but I actually feel sorry for the guy.

Mind you, he's only got himself to blame.

Now here come Eric and Toby, climbing the track toward our home. Maybe they can smell the apple pies I baked for tonight. Yes, I'm a mother and a Chief Revenue Officer, and I still make pies for my men. Not because they expect it, but because I want to.

They say they're the lucky ones. But no—I know it's me.

An unsatisfied eco-activist who pretty much literally fell into the arms of three mountain men—Jack, Toby, and Luke—and one gorgeous science nerd named Eric, who together gave me love, a home, a family, and a life richer and more fulfilling than I'd ever dreamed.

Truly, I feel like a princess from a fairytale.

Maybe one day I'll even convince them, if not to become fully vegan, then at least to go vegetarian.

But honestly? I'm not holding my breath.

THE END