Page 7 of Eco-Activist’s Mountain Men (Mountain Men Reverse Harem #4)

"Nope, true as can be. We're fine here, though.

We haven't suffered a power cut since we're not on the grid anyway.

We have our own generator out back, and it's working just fine.

Same for water, we pump our water directly from a local spring, and we've plenty of food stores.

Basically, we're all good. But you won't be going anywhere for a week or two, I'm afraid. "

"You what?"

"Well, you see, the roads are impassable because of all the fallen trees, and all the rescue helicopters in the area will be busy prioritizing those who are in most need. I can't see them getting around to us for at least a couple of weeks… probably more, in fact."

Two weeks? Two weeks? Or more?

I can feel the blood drain from my face. I am absolutely horrified. I thought I'd be gone this afternoon in a taxi or something.

"You have to be kidding me. I can't stay here for two weeks. I was only meant to be here a few hours."

"Well, I don't think you have much choice.

Sorry." He shrugs and gives me a cheerful smile that reminds me of his younger brother.

The only real difference between them is a few extra lines on his face and the silver in his hair.

Suits him, though. Shows his experience.

What a pair these two are! Perhaps two weeks with these two wouldn't be so bad…

but no, what am I thinking about? They're the enemy for crying out loud.

But if they're really the enemy, how come they're so nice?

And why do I want to fling myself at them and tear off their clothes and fuck them like there's no tomorrow?

I have never felt like this before. Jesus Christ… was it the fall? Did it do something to my head?

"By the way… why are you here, exactly, Luna? We don't tend to get a lot of visitors in these parts. What are you doing here? Luke said something about some sort of banner, is that right?"

First, I turn pale from the shock of learning I'm stuck here for God knows how long. Now I feel myself blushing bright lobster red at having to explain what I was doing here. Oh well.

Be brave, Luna. After all, what's the worst they can do to you?

"Well, actually, I'm a member of an ecological action group, called?—"

At that moment, the outside door opens again, and a huge shadow looms in the doorway.

"Called Kill Climate Change . They're one of those idiot groups that chain themselves to tanker trucks, or sit down in the middle of a busy junction to cause traffic chaos, or throw paint at famous artworks just to gain media attention. Am I right?"

A huge mountain of a man with a gruff voice and a big scowl on his face is standing in the doorway.

Good grief… the man's enormous. He just carries on going.

He's practically as wide as he is tall. He's like a Norse god out of the Ring Cycle or something.

I'm only surprised he isn't wearing a horned hat and carrying a warhammer.

If there was some kind of competition for pillaging in Oregon, something tells me he'd be top of the league table.

At the moment, he doesn't look too happy either. Oh dear, there goes my comfortable stay in the loggers' camp while my ankle heals and the roads are cleared. This guy obviously wants me out, though, where I'm gonna go, I have no idea. I gather my strength together and put on my snootiest voice.

"Well, no, actually. Actually, we don't believe in disrupting the little people. We focus on the means of production and its owners, not on the downtrodden masses."

"Well, " actually, " you came here to disrupt our business and hopefully to close us down. Isn't that right?"

"But only because what you're doing is wrong. Can't you see that? The forests are the planet's lungs?—"

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"I said bullshit. Phytoplankton in the oceans produce eighty percent of our oxygen. If you're going to save the planet, you should get your facts right."

Goddamnit—I've only met this guy for five seconds and I already hate him.

"Well, okay, but you're cutting down endangered?—"

"No, we're not. Our contract is strictly for harvesting sustainable timbers, which are almost entirely softwoods—firs, pines, hemlock, and cedars.

We use sustainable practices to perform selective logging and reforestation.

We also log all the rare species and track their growth over the years, making sure they're protected for the future. "

"Bullshit. You cut down thousands more trees than you plant. I've seen the government figures."

At this, the bulk of a man sighs, puts down what he's holding—my backpack, I notice. Good, at least I haven't lost my phone and my wallet—and fixes me with a malevolent stare.

"Yes, that's true generally, and I regret it.

But McKenzie Forestry Services has always planted more than it's harvested since it started twenty-odd years ago.

We're on the good side of the equation, and we're leading the way, actually.

We don't need stupid little girls who don't know their ass from their elbow and who've never done a proper day's work in their life coming here telling us what to do. "

"Oh, really?" I draw myself up to my admittedly tiny height in my kitchen chair.

"And I don't take bullshit answers from a…

a… filthy sasquatch of a dumb lumberjack whose brain is addled from poor quality moonshine and too much inbreeding among the mountainfolk…

okay?" By this stage, I am breathing heavily, my heart pounding, my muscles tense.

If this guy wants a fight, he can have one.

I ain't scared of him. Well… probably not. Mostly.

"Whoa, whoa. Shut up, the pair of you." Jack appears to gather his wits and decides to intervene.

Toby, on the other hand, is just sitting there with a dumb grin on his face.

He seems to be enjoying the whole thing, especially hearing me being called a stupid little girl. Bastard, I'll remember that.

"This is a kitchen, not a debating hall. I will not have people insulting each other here, and that goes for both workers and guests equally. Got it? Well?"

Silence for a moment, except for the sound of heavy breathing coming from me and from the man-mountain facing me. Inside me, even that's drowned out by the jackhammer pounding of my heart, but I assume that's only audible to me.

Then the guy seems to slump slightly. All the tension of his muscles dissipates, and the scowl is replaced by a sheepish smile.

"Alright, maybe I over-reacted. Maybe your particular group of protestors doesn't do those stupid things, and I apologize for calling you a stupid little girl.

That was unnecessary. But you're wrong about McKenzie Forestry.

Like I said, we're on the good side, not the bad side.

I just got crazy because… well, because a few years back I got assaulted by a protester.

Of course, I defended myself, and they ended up in the hospital, but I ended up in jail.

I mean… the man came at me with a baseball bat, so what am I supposed to do, let him hit me?

But it was his word against mine, and of course, he had all his protestor friends swear I attacked him, not the other way around.

I got thirty days, but I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it out on you. "

"Good man, Luke," Jack says. Then he turns to me, his eyebrows raised. "Well?"

"Yeah, okay. I'm sorry too. It's not your fault you look like a sasquatch?—"

Toby cannot help but let out another snigger at this, and the big man's face turns dark again, so I quickly continue: "Sorry, I mean it's not your fault you're so big and intimidating looking, and you made a good point about McKenzie Forestry Services.

If it's true, then I have to say I didn't know that, and yes, I agree, you should be applauded, not attacked.

I apologize for calling you names and disparaging your parents. "

But Toby appears to have completely lost it, and by this point, he's practically in hysterics, choking and thumping on the table, muttering "filthy sasquatch," "addled from too much moonshine," and "inbreeding amongst the mountainfolk," under his breath, between gasps for air. There are tears running down his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "I guess we don't get a lot of entertainment up here in the woods, Luke. You should have seen the look on your face when she called you a filth?—"

Jack slams his hand down on the table, hard, causing us all to jump. "Alright, alright, Toby. We heard it the first time. It don't need a repeating from you. Why don't you shut up already and finish those spuds, eh?"