Page 7 of Hunted by the Mountain Man (Darkmore Mountain Men #5)

seven

Anna

The RCMP debriefing team arrives at dawn in a convoy of black SUVs that look obscenely official against the pristine mountain landscape. I watch them through Cole's cabin windows, my stomach tight with apprehension.

"They can't make you do anything," Cole says from behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders. "Whatever they offer, it's your choice."

"I know." But knowing and feeling are two different things. The federal government has controlled my life for two years—where I live, who I see, what I'm allowed to do. Breaking free of that won't be easy.

Agent Morton emerges from the lead vehicle, looking exactly as I remember—sharp suit, sharper eyes, the perpetually harried expression of a man juggling too many secrets. Behind him come three other agents and someone who's clearly RCMP brass.

"Showtime," I murmur, straightening my shoulders.

Cole's hands tighten protectively. "I'll be right there with you."

"Actually..." I turn in his arms, meeting his worried gaze. "I need to do this part alone. They need to hear me make this choice without any outside influence."

"Anna—"

"Trust me." I rise on my toes to kiss him softly. "I know what I want. Let me fight for it."

The meeting takes place in Cole's main room, the agents looking oddly out of place among the handcrafted furniture and mountain views. Morton sits across from me at the dining table, his expression a mix of relief and concern.

"Ms. Rice," he begins formally. "First, let me say how relieved we are that you're safe. The breach of your safe house location represents a serious failure in our security protocols."

"How did they find me?" I ask, though I'm not sure it matters anymore.

"Financial corruption within the program. Someone took Costa's money to provide your location." Morton's jaw tightens. "That person is now in custody, but the damage was done."

"So the program isn't secure."

"This location wasn't secure. But we have other options." He slides a folder across the table. "New identity, relocation to the Pacific Northwest. Complete financial support for the first two years while you establish yourself."

I don't open the folder. "And the trial?"

"Postponed indefinitely while we ensure your safety. Costa's lawyers are already claiming prosecutorial misconduct due to the security breach."

"So he might never be convicted."

"Not necessarily. We're exploring other options—video testimony, sealed depositions. Your evidence is still valuable, Ms. Rice. We just need to find a way to present it safely."

I study Morton's face, seeing the political calculation behind his reassurances. They want Costa convicted, but they want their star witness alive more. The actual justice feels secondary.

"What if I don't want relocation?" I ask quietly.

Morton's eyebrows rise. "I'm sorry?"

"What if I want to stay here? In Alberta, in these mountains?"

"Ms. Rice, I understand you may feel grateful to Mr. Manning for his assistance, but—"

"This isn't gratitude." My voice stays level despite the irritation bubbling beneath. "This is my choice about where and how I want to live my life."

"You're talking about staying with a man you've known for less than a week—"

"I'm talking about staying somewhere I feel safe. Somewhere I feel like I belong." I lean forward, meeting his gaze directly. "Agent Morton, when was the last time I called you asking for help? Asking for anything?"

He considers this. "You never have. You've been... remarkably self-sufficient."

"Because I learned to take care of myself.

To make my own decisions about what's best for me.

" I gesture toward the window, where Cole is splitting firewood with controlled precision.

"That man risked his life to protect me.

Not because it was his job, but because he chose to. That means something."

"Ms. Rice—Anna—I understand the appeal of a romantic rescue fantasy. But you need to think practically about your future."

The condescension in his tone makes me see red. "Romantic fantasy? Agent Morton, do you know what my life has been like for the past two years?"

"I have some idea—"

"No, you don't." I stand, needing to move.

"You have reports and files and psychological evaluations.

You don't have the reality of going to sleep every night wondering if you'll wake up with a gun to your head.

Of being afraid to make friends because they might become targets.

Of feeling like a ghost haunting someone else's life. "

Morton remains quiet, perhaps sensing he's pushed too far.

"For the first time in two years, I feel alive. I feel like myself again. And you want me to give that up for another anonymous apartment in another anonymous city where I'll spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder."

"We can provide protection—"

"You already did. It failed." I return to my seat, my decision crystallizing with each word. "But Cole didn't fail. His protection worked. His mountain worked. This life works for me."

"And if Costa sends more men?"

I smile, thinking of the elaborate defensive positions Cole has built, the way he moved through the forest like a ghost, the quiet competence with which he coordinated the RCMP operation.

"Then they'll face the same mountains that defeated this group. And the same man who outmaneuvered professional killers using nothing but terrain knowledge and three years of preparation." I meet Morton's eyes. "I'll take those odds over another compromised safe house."

Morton is quiet for a long moment, studying my face. "You're really going to do this. Stay here with him."

"Yes."

"What about your testimony? Your commitment to seeing Costa convicted?"

"I'm not abandoning that." I pull out the communication equipment Cole showed me earlier. "This system can establish secure satellite uplinks with federal courts. I can testify remotely, provide depositions, whatever you need. But I'm doing it from here."

Morton sighs, the sound of a man recognizing defeat. "I can't officially recommend this course of action."

"I'm not asking for your recommendation. I'm informing you of my decision."

Another long silence. Then Morton nods slowly. "Very well. We'll work with you on remote testimony options. But if the situation changes, if you need extraction—"

"I'll call." Though we both know I won't need to.

The agents pack up their files and forms, leaving behind contact information and secure communication protocols. As their convoy disappears down the mountain road, I feel a weight lift from my shoulders that's been there for two years.

Cole approaches from the woodpile, his eyes searching my face. "How did it go?"

"I'm staying." The words feel like freedom. "If you'll have me."

His smile transforms his entire face. "Anna Rice, I'll have you for as long as you'll let me."

"Forever, then."

"Forever works for me."

He sweeps me into his arms, spinning me around as I laugh with pure joy. When he sets me down, his expression grows serious.

"Are you sure? Really sure? Because once they leave, once you're officially off their radar—"

"Cole." I cup his face in my hands. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. This is where I belong. With you, in these mountains, building whatever life we want together."

"It won't be easy—"

"Nothing worth having ever is." I kiss him softly. "Besides, I'm tougher than I look. Two years of witness protection taught me that."

"You're definitely tougher than you look." His hands span my waist, thumbs brushing the soft skin beneath my shirt. "Among other things."

"What other things?" I ask, even though the heat in his eyes gives me a pretty good idea.

"Smarter than I expected. Braver than you know. More beautiful every time I look at you." His voice drops to that rough whisper that never fails to make me melt. "And apparently insane enough to choose a life in the wilderness with a damaged ex-soldier."

"Not damaged." I trace the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his beard. "Different. Stronger. Perfect for me."

When he kisses me this time, it's with the promise of forever. No more running, no more hiding, no more looking over our shoulders. Just us, these mountains, and whatever future we choose to build together.

"So what now?" I ask when we finally break apart.

Cole's smile is pure contentment. "Now we go inside, and I spend the rest of the day showing you exactly how much I love you."

"And after that?"

"After that, we start planning our life together. Figure out how to make remote forensic accounting work from a mountain cabin. Maybe expand the communications array. Definitely winterize the secondary positions."

I laugh at his practical approach to romance. "Very romantic, Mr. Manning."

"I'll show you romantic later." His eyes promise exactly that. "Right now, I'm just grateful you're staying. That you're mine."

"Always yours," I promise, and mean it with every fiber of my being.

As we walk toward the cabin—toward our home—the mountains stretch endlessly around us, beautiful and eternal and safe. For the first time in two years, I'm not running toward an uncertain future.

I'm walking toward the life I choose.

With the man I love.