Page 4 of Mountain Man Claimed (Hard Timber Mountain Men #4)

DANE

By the time I got to Main Street, the ribbon was already strung across the front of Morning Wood Coffee.

Hard Timber hadn’t turned out like this since Timber Days back at the beginning of the summer.

Folks crowded the sidewalk, kids ran around on the grass, and the air smelled like cinnamon rolls and fresh espresso .

With only a couple weeks until the Founders’ Festival, every grand opening, sign touch-up, and window box mattered.

Main Street needed to look alive before the parade rolled through.

Someone had tied wildflowers to the lampposts, and a handmade banner flapped above the door. “Morning Wood Coffee — Grand Opening” curved across it in Sabrina’s curly handwriting, with a little mug sketched in the corner like steam might float right off the paint.

Sabrina Meyer was everywhere at once. She handed out samples, hugged three people at a time, and laughed like she’d been waiting years for this morning.

Everyone knew her from they years she spent working at the Timber Mill Inn, but this place was all hers.

The huge smile on her face said she knew it too.

“Feels like Timber Days, just smaller,” Holt said when I found him near the steps. Lane sat high up on his shoulders, pointing at the pastry case like he’d never seen a muffin before.

“Smells better than the parade,” I said. He grunted, which for Holt passed as a compliment.

My oldest brother Thatcher pushed through the crowd with a paper cup already in hand.

“The line was out the door when I got here. It’s worth it, though.

” He draped a possessive arm over Joely’s shoulders as he looked me over.

“I hear you’re already planning an expansion.

Didn’t even break in the gym before moving to the next thing, huh? ”

“It’s not about me,” I said. “The town needs these courts.”

“Sure,” he said, and the word carried the weight of every bet people were placing about how long I would last.

My buddy Harlan slid past with a pastry box under one arm. “Save me a spot on those courts, Butterfly.” He said it just loud enough that a few heads turned. When I flipped him off, he smiled even wider. Every time someone called me that in public, my cheeks burned a little hotter.

“Boys,” a voice called. “Behave yourselves, or I’ll cut you off on pie day.” Nellie stood at the edge of the crowd with a Morning Wood mug cupped between her hands.

Someone yelled, “You worried about the competition, Nellie?”

“Not even a little.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges, and I believed her. “There’s room in Hard Timber for more than one good cup of coffee. Besides, I’ve got pie at my place.”

Sabrina blew her a kiss from the doorway, and Nellie caught it with a wink.

I got caught up in the lightheartedness of the moment, but then I saw Rowan.

She moved along the sidewalk with purpose in dark jeans, neutral flats and a tan cardigan buttoned up all the way.

Even off the clock she looked all business.

Her hair was pulled back in her usual bun and she held a clipboard against her chest. Gillian spotted her, offered a friendly wave, and then resumed chatting with one of Ridge’s bartenders I recognized from The Knotty Tap.

Rowan told me she was expected to show up, so I wasn’t surprised to see her.

What got me was how she held herself. She didn’t let the laughter pull her off course, just watched the door, the line, and the overflow onto the street.

I’d bet she could tell how many people were inside by feel alone.

While Sabrina was sunshine at full wattage, Rowan was like a bucket of ice water whose sole purpose was to keep a guy like me in line .

Except today she didn’t look like ice. She looked focused and steady.

For the first time, I wondered if anyone would ever see me like that.

I cut through a knot of people until I stood in front of her. “Good to see you here, March.”

“Supporting local business is part of my job.” She shifted the clipboard, so it rested against her side. “Also, I like coffee.”

“You don’t say.” I dropped my voice a notch. “Keep showing up like this and Sabrina might name a drink after you. Something strong. No cream, no sugar.”

Her mouth twitched, but her tone stayed flat. “Cute. But I’m not here to earn brownie points.”

“That’s a shame,” I said. “You look like someone who’d kill to be teacher’s pet.”

She gave me a cool once-over. “Some of us show up to lead. Others just want attention.”

That comment hit me like a sucker punch to the gut.

I could’ve laughed it off or thrown something back.

Instead, I took a long sip of my coffee, letting the heat cover the sting.

I’d built The Woodshed from the ground up and poured everything into making it real.

Yeah, I’d started plenty I didn’t finish like the pop-up gear shop that lasted two weekends, but this was different.

Seemed like no matter how rooted I got, some people still expected the worst from me.

That used to roll off my back. Lately, it had started to really burn.

“You’ll have to keep watching,” I said. “See how long I last.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Interest, maybe. Or the brief recognition that I’d heard her and wasn’t going to run. Whatever it was, the look faded fast, and her usual professional calm took over.

Sabrina swept by with a tray of mini scones. “Are you two doing okay?” She pressed the tray at us and flashed a grin. “Dane, tell me you’re bringing your sponsorship board to the gym this week. Powered by caffeine. It was your idea.”

“Put me down for it,” I said, snagging a scone. “You’ve got the whole town here.”

“That’s the plan,” she said. “Rowan, thank you for coming. Tell everyone at Town Hall I appreciate the help with the permits. Main Street feels better already.”

“It’s a strong addition,” Rowan said, her voice sincere. “Congratulations.”

Sabrina beamed and vanished back into the crowd.

Rowan watched her, the corners of her mouth tipping up just barely. “She planned well,” she said. “You can see it in the flow. The counter sits so you can line up without blocking the door. The side table keeps people from crowding the register. She really thought it through.”

“You sound impressed.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“Maybe one day you’ll look at me like that,” I said.

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Don’t count on it.”

I let the silence fill the space between us while the chatter around us rose and fell in warm waves. For once, I didn’t feel like putting on an act. I wanted Rowan to see me standing in the middle of the chaos with both feet on the ground. She needed to know I wasn’t going anywhere.

Someone announced it was time for the official ribbon cutting, and we drifted toward the front door with the crowd.

Rowan found a narrow gap by the window and slipped into it like she belonged there.

I stood next to her and watched people clap while Sabrina sliced through a thick red ribbon with oversized scissors.

“Are you planning on hiding back here all morning?” I asked.

“I’m not hiding.” Her tone was brisk, but not cold. “I’m observing.”

“What are you observing?”

“That businesses that prepare properly tend to thrive.” Her gaze tracked Sabrina moving from table to table, a hug for Harvey, a joke for some teens, and a refill for a guy playing guitar in the corner. “She has her systems in place. The rest builds on that.”

“Systems,” I said. “Sounds familiar.”

“If you want people to trust you, you need to give them consistency.”

“You’re talking about coffee.” I took another sip. “Or maybe permits.”

“Both.”

I leaned my shoulder against the wall, close enough to feel her attention shift to me and away again. “You know I believe in this town, right?”

“You believe in your ideas,” she said. “Believing in the town means following through when no one is clapping.”

Damn. Why did this woman’s opinion of me matter so much? “You don’t think I have what it takes to see this project through?”

“I think you’ll show me one way or the other.”

Her lack of faith should have annoyed me. Instead, it made me determined to prove her, and everyone else who didn’t believe in me, wrong.

Behind us, a woman whispered. “Did you hear the latest episode? They called him The Butterfly again.”

Heat crawled up my neck. Rowan went still. She looked like she wanted to walk over and turn the volume down on their conversation.

“You know,”—I turned to face them, keeping my voice easy even though my jaw clenched—“butterflies don’t stay still because people never give them a place to land.”

They blinked like they hadn’t realized I’d heard them. One mumbled sorry. The other ducked her head.

Rowan opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “That was well said.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment, March?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

The line running through the shop shuffled forward. Sabrina’s laugh rolled across the room again, light and sure. Rowan’s gaze followed the sound, then came back to me with an expression I hadn’t seen before. Thoughtful. Like she was measuring me against something other than my reputation.

I sure as hell hoped that she liked what she found.

Rowan checked her watch. “I should get going. I had a chance to work on your packet and will email you the conditions tonight or tomorrow morning. If I need your signature on the revised sketch, I’ll stop by instead of sending it through the mail.”

“That works. I’ll be at the gym.”

“I figured,” she said.

We shuffled toward the door. Outside, Main Street sparkled under a hard blue sky. People lingered in small groups, cradling paper cups, talking about nothing and everything at the same time.

“It was good to see you,” I said.

“Like I said, supporting local businesses is part of my job.” She tucked her damn clipboard under her arm. “And this one deserves it.”