Page 1 of Entangled with a Mountain Man

1

CRUSHED HOPES

KENZIE

“Silver Ridge, Montana, y’all got thirty minutes, and we’re on to the next stop,” the driver’s voice competes with the groaning brakes as the bus rumbles to a stop.

I twist in my seat and let my eyes pass over the snowcapped mountains in the distance. My heart leaps into my throat. My new home.

I clutch the handle of my duffel bag, the faded canvas worn from all my running. But not this time. This time, I'm planting roots—a new life, free from the ghosts of my past.

The doors hiss open, and I step out into the crisp mountain air, filling my lungs with the scent of pine and possibility. The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the little bus station, and I spin around with a smile.

This place looks just like the pictures I saw on the internet. Well, not the bus station, but the view outside. And it just feels...right.

A few steps away, the quaint downtown stretches before me—a cluster of rustic storefronts and a café lining a main street that looks plucked straight out of a Hallmark movie. The Rocky Mountains rise in the distance, their snowcapped peaks glittering like diamonds against the azure sky.

"Lord, I could get used to this view," I murmur, drinking in the scenery.

My boots crunch on the gravel as I walk toward the benches, already picturing myself settled here with a good book and a hot chocolate from that cozy-looking café across the street. A fresh start means new routines, new?—

"You're such a crybaby!"

A shrill voice shatters my daydream. I spin toward the sound to find two little girls—twins from the looks of it—in a heated argument by the station's entrance. One has her hands planted firmly on her hips while the other crosses her arms in defiance.

"Am not! You started it by taking my book!"

"Only 'cause you took Tata first!"

I chuckle, looking around for an adult. Still, when I don’t see one heading in their direction, I decide to mediate the situation while waiting for my ride.

"My Meme used to say, ‘family business is family business.’ She’d turn up her nose at two beautiful young ladies cuttin’ up in mixed company.” I scan around, and they do, too.

The identical looks of surprise on their faces have me holding back a chuckle. But what they don’t know is I learned from the best. Meme could quiet a riot with a soft, even tone that left no room for questioning who was in charge.

I shift my gaze between them, taking in their matching outfits and the glint of little diamond studs. Their mother dressed them carefully, and she must be around here somewhere.

I step closer, lowering my tone. “I think we can handle this like, ladies. No name-calling and using our inside voices. What do you say?"

“Yes, ma’am,” they groan.

They’re adorable, and they have manners. For a moment, I'm struck by how much they remind me of Kendrick and me at that age—always at each other's throats but thick as thieves when it counted.

"She started it!" they chorus, pointing accusingly at each other.

I laugh. The sound is rich and genuine. "Oh, I see how it is. Well, as the resident twin expert, I think I might be able to help sort this out."

The taller of the two—the one clutching a well-worn book to her chest—eyes me suspiciously. "How are you a twin expert?"

"'Cause I've got a twin brother of my own," I explain, crouching down to their level. "And let me tell you, we used to fight like cats and dogs."

"Really?" The other girl's eyes widen with interest. "Did you take each other's stuff too?"

"Unfortunately, yes, sweetie, all the time," I grin, remembering the countless squabbles Kendrick and I had over the years. "But you know what? At the end of the day, we always had each other's backs. That's what being a twin is all about."

The girls exchange a look, some of the tension easing from their small frames.

"I'm Kenzie," I offer, holding out my hand. "And you two cuties are...?"

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