Page 9 of Mountain Man Obsessed (Hard Timber Mountain Men #3)
“Then they come for me.” My voice rose. “Then I lose them. The only family I’ve got.”
Her chin lifted. “So what, Harlan? You’d rather lose me instead?”
I flinched, but she didn’t stop.
“I’m not asking you to parade me through town on your arm,” she said, her voice shaking with anger. “I’m asking you not to treat me like I’m something shameful you have to hide.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“No,” she snapped. “You’re trying to protect yourself. From my brothers. From this town. From anyone seeing that the big, bad Warden of Hard Timber doesn’t have it all together for once.”
Her words cut straight through me. Because they were true.
I shook my head, backing away. “We can’t keep doing this. It’s too dangerous.”
She went very still. Her eyes glistened, but her voice was steady. “Dangerous isn’t what we had in that tent. Dangerous is you pretending it doesn’t matter.”
“It was a mistake.” The lie scalded my throat.
Her face crumpled. Not much. Just enough to gut me. She swallowed hard, straightened her shoulders, and nodded once. “Fine. If that’s what you think, then I’ll make it easy for you.”
She gathered her clues, her tape, her clipboard, turned her back, and walked away.
As much as I wanted to, I didn’t follow her.
Bubbles whined again when I got back to the truck, and I sat there gripping the wheel until my knuckles went white. For once, I didn’t have a plan. Didn’t have any idea what to do next. All I had was the echo of her voice in my head, and the hollow space she’d taken up inside my heart.
And for the first time in my life, I wondered if I’d built my walls so high that I’d finally managed to lock myself out too.
I sat there long enough for the cab to grow cold, Bubbles’s whines filling the silence I couldn’t bring myself to break. My hands were still locked on the wheel, my head pounding with regret.
I should have gone after her. Should have grabbed her wrist, pulled her back, begged her to listen, told her the truth—that I hadn’t meant it, that it was the opposite of a mistake, that being with her had been the only time in my life I’d felt like I wasn’t just surviving.
But I stayed put. Because that was what I did best… hold still, lock down, let control strangle every word I couldn’t bear to say.
I finally started the engine and drove, my headlights cutting through the dark as Main Street thinned into the stretch of road toward the shop. The whole way, I replayed the scene in my head. Her shoulders squared, her spine stiff, she carried her hurt like she was daring anyone else to add to it.
The store was dark when I walked in. The displays we’d fought over last week looked foreign now, like someone else had come in and touched my life while I’d been gone. I flipped on the light, and it buzzed overhead, harsh and unforgiving.
I paced the aisles like a caged animal. Past the survival stoves, past the fishing gear, past the new display of mugs she’d ordered with corny slogans I’d mocked her for. I picked one up, turned it in my hand. Couldn’t put it back down.
She’d fought for this store harder than I ever had. She’d fought for me, too. And I’d repaid her by spitting in her face.
Bubbles settled by the counter, his head on his paws, watching me unravel. Smart dog. He knew better than to try and fix me.
The next morning, I poured coffee, but it might as well have been mud.
Nothing cut through the heaviness in my chest. When I drove into town, I felt everyone’s eyes on me.
The sidewalks hummed with fresh bits of gossip, whispers carrying faster than the wind.
Nellie waved from across the street, her smile polite but her eyes sharper than usual, like she knew what I’d done.
Reminders of Jessa confronted me everywhere. Evidence of the work she’d put in for me and the store mocked me from the flyers she’d scattered around town to the tents she’d rented for the different events. And I’d been a complete dick and told her she was a mistake.
That night, I tried to lose myself in routine—inventory, paperwork, the thousand tasks I normally clung to for control. None of it stuck. My mind played the fight in the square in a loop, over and over. The look in her eyes when I said the word.
Mistake .
She’d crumbled. Just a fraction, but enough to slay me. And still, I hadn’t taken it back.
By midnight, I was pacing again. Bubbles watched me from the doorway, his ears twitching every time I muttered a curse.
“You shoulda kept your mouth shut,” I told myself. “Shoulda fought for her.”
The words bounced off the walls and came back empty. Deep down, I knew the truth. I hadn’t just hurt her. I’d betrayed her. Betrayed the fire she carried, the way she’d trusted me with all that light. I’d lost her trust, and she’d never give it back.
When I finally dropped into bed, the ceiling spun above me. Sleep wouldn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her walking away. My gut swam with the sick certainty that I’d lost her forever. Not because of the gossip. Not because of her brothers. Because of me.