Page 92 of Entangled with a Mountain Man

The tone of his voice sends a chill down my spine. Something's wrong.

I find him in the living room, pacing back and forth. The look on his face stops me in my tracks.

"Everett? What's going on?"

He turns to me, his eyes blazing. "When were you going to tell me about Ian?"

My blood runs cold. "What?"

"Don't play dumb," he growls. "Half the town saw you two together today. Paige said?—"

"Paige?" I cut him off, anger flaring. "You're listening to Paige now?"

Everett runs a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him. "What am I supposed to think, Kenzie? You've been acting strange for weeks, and now I hear you're sneaking around with your ex?"

"Sneaking around?" I repeat, incredulous. "Is that what you think of me?"

"I don't know what to think!" he shouts. "You won't talk to me. You're always exhausted, and now this?"

Everett spins on his heels and heads for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I need some air."

20

THE BREAKING POINT

KENZIE

I drive through Silver Ridge, the fall colors painting the town in warm hues of crimson, amber, and gold. The leaves crunch beneath my tires as I cruise down Main Street, drinking in the quaint storefronts and historic buildings.

This place has become more than just a temporary stop—it feels like home.

I touch my stomach, still flat but holding the tiniest spark of life.

"What do you think, bean?" I whisper, my voice is soft and gentle. "Should we make this our home?"

Last night, the nickname appeared without a second thought. I'd have a peanut, a button, and a bean. I grin as the vision of the girls dances in my thoughts.

The idea of staying and building a life here with Everett and the girls feels right. Like this is where I'm meant to be. But doubt creeps in, cold and unwelcome, whispering insecurities in my ear.

What if Everett doesn't want this? What if he resents me for complicating his life?

I shake my head, pushing those thoughts away. "No use borrowing trouble," I mutter, Meme's favorite saying coming to mind. Her warm, soothing voice echoes in my memory, and I can almost smell the soft scent of her perfume.

As I pull up to the shelter on the Peterson’s Ranch, I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Maybe talking to Mel will help clear my head. She always knows how to put things in perspective with her no-nonsense attitude and snarky humor.

But first, I promised Steph I'd help prepare the place for a new family that is arriving this afternoon.

I hop out of the van, grabbing my bag. The crisp mountain air nips at my cheeks, and I pull my jacket tighter around me. Watching this place transition from summer to fall has been like watching the hand of God at work.

Just beautiful.

My eyes drift over the sprawling property, taking in the rustic charm of the barns and fences, and the horses grazing in the pasture. It's a far cry from the gritty streets of Detroit, where I grew up constantly looking over my shoulder.

Here, there's a sense of peace, of safety, that I've never known before.

---