Page 100 of Grumpy on the Mountain

"We're going to get through this," I promise. "Together."

My phone buzzes against my hip, cutting through the moment with electronic urgency. For a split second, I consider ignoring it—nothing matters more than the woman in my arms—but right now, after everything we've learned tonight, I know I need to take it.

The caller ID shows Sienna's name, and my stomach drops.

"Hello?"

"Beau, thank God," Sienna's voice is sharp with panic, and in the background I can hear what sounds like chaos. "Something's wrong—"

"What kind of wrong?"

"It's Maisie." Sienna's voice cracks, and my blood turns to arctic water. "She was playing in the backyard, and now she's gone and—"

Each word drives a dagger into my chest and I'm instantly grabbing my keys.

"Maisie's gone missing?"

Chapter Twenty-Three

Molly

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Beau says into the phone.

When he hangs up, I'm already moving toward my coat by the door.

"I'm coming with you."

"No." The word comes out like a door slamming shut. "You're staying here."

I freeze with one arm halfway into my jacket sleeve, staring at him like he's lost his mind. "Excuse me? That's my niece!"

"It's not safe, Molly."

He's already racing around the cabin, still holding his gun, checking the magazine like he's actually preparing to use it.

It's like I'm watching him transform into someone else entirely. Beau the soldier, not the grumpy cabin builder. Like he's preparing for combat rather than a search party. His jaw is set in that hard line I've come to recognize when he's slippedinto that other part of himself, the part that survived whatever horrors he never talks about.

"Riley's out there somewhere, and now Maisie's missing. I need to know you're secure while I handle this."

Handle this.

Like I'm some fragile piece of china that needs to be wrapped in bubble wrap and stored safely on a high shelf.

Gee. Why does that feel familiar?

"Beau, stop." I yank my jacket on properly, zipping it up so fast it nearly breaks. "I'm not staying here cowering in your cabin while my family needs help!"

"You're not cowering," he says, not even looking at me as he checks his phone. "You're being smart. Riley's dangerous, and—"

"And what? I can't handle myself?" The words explode out of me with a force that surprises us both. "You think I'm too weak? Too stupid? Toohelplessto be useful in a crisis?"

That gets his attention. His darkened eyes snap to mine, and I see the surprise flicker across his face.

"That's not what I—"

"It's exactly what you meant," I interrupt, and suddenly three weeks of suppressed fears and insecurities are pouring out of me like water through a broken dam. "You want me to stay here like a good little girl while the big strong men handle the dangerous stuff."

"Molly—"