Page 26 of Daddy of the Mountain

"No," I shot back, surprising even myself. My fingers tightened their grip. "You don’t get to bottle this up. Not with me."

His resistance crumbled all at once. For a man who always seemed larger than life, indestructible, seeing him like this—raw, vulnerable—stirred something fierce inside me. I knelt infront of him, ignoring the pull of my leg, and wrapped my arms around his broad frame.

"Shh," I whispered, pressing my cheek against his chest. "It’s okay, Silas. I’m okay."

He shook his head, a small, jerky movement. His hands hovered uncertainly before they finally landed on my back, pulling me close. He clung to me like a drowning man grasping at driftwood, his breaths uneven and ragged. His body, usually so steady, trembled beneath my touch.

I stroked his back, murmuring soft nonsense until his breathing began to even out. It hurt, seeing him like this, but it also made me feel . . . needed. Like maybe I wasn’t as much of a burden as I’d thought.

"Why’d you have to scare me like that?" he muttered eventually, his voice muffled against my hair. There was no anger left, only exhaustion.

"I’m sorry," I said, meaning it. "I’ll do better. I promise."

"Better," he repeated bitterly, pulling back just enough to look at me. His eyes searched mine, raw and unguarded. "I can’t lose you, Alana. I don’t want you to hurt yourself."

His breaths hitched against my hair. I kept quiet, holding him steady, even as his body shook like a tree in the wind. The cabin felt too small suddenly, the air heavier than before. Finally, he pulled back just enough, his arms still loose around me, his face streaked with tears he wasn’t even trying to hide anymore.

"She was . . . she was like you," he said, voice rough and low, almost lost in the crackle of the fire behind us. His gaze dropped to the floorboards, unable—or unwilling—to meet mine. "My wife."

I blinked, frozen, unsure if I should speak or stay quiet. My fingers grazed his arm, letting him know I was listening. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then continued.

"She loved this mountain. Loved me." His lips twisted, and for a second, I thought he might laugh, but it came out as a raw, broken sound instead. "But I couldn’t keep her safe."

"Silas—" I started, but he shook his head sharply, cutting me off.

"Storm came in faster than I could’ve guessed. She didn’t have a chance." His jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. "Tried everything. But . . ." He trailed off, his words fraying into silence, leaving the rest unsaid.

I didn’t need the details. The weight in his voice told me enough. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, and I reached for him, brushing my thumb over his knuckles until his fingers loosened, uncurling slowly.

"That’s why you stayed here," I said softly, piecing it together. "Why you help people. Why you helped me."

"Didn’t do it for some noble reason," he muttered bitterly, brown eyes flicking up to mine at last. They were bloodshot, glossy with fresh tears, but still burning, fierce. "I did it ‘cause I’m a damn coward. Didn’t wanna leave her behind, so I let this place eat me alive instead. Figured if I kept folks from makin’ the same mistake, maybe… maybe it’d mean somethin’. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a failure."

"Stop." My voice startled both of us. It wasn’t loud, but it was firm, steadier than I felt. "You’re not a failure, Silas. You’re human."

He sighed. “I’m broken. That’s what I am.”

"Promise me," I said, voice trembling but sure. "If nothing else, promise me you’ll let me in."

"Only if you promise me somethin’ too," he murmured, his tone quieter now, more vulnerable. "No more scarin’ me like that. No more riskin’ yourself ‘cause you think you got somethin’ to prove. You come to me. Always."

I nodded, tears stinging my own eyes now. "I promise."

"Good girl," he said, so soft I barely caught it, but it sent warmth curling deep in my chest all the same. His calloused thumb brushed along my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.

And before I could overthink it, before either of us could pull away, I closed the gap between us. Tentative, testing, my lips met his. His breath hitched, and for one agonizing heartbeat, he didn’t move. Then, with a groan that sounded half-relief, half-surrender, he kissed me back.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was slow, careful, like we were figuring each other out piece by piece. His hand slipped to cradle the back of my neck, anchoring me as the world seemed to tilt sideways. For the first time since I’d stepped into this cabin, I felt grounded. Safe. Seen.

When we finally broke apart, our foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the quiet space between us. His eyes stayed locked on mine, still full of sorrow, but now there was something else there too. Something softer. Hopeful.

"Guess we’re both a little broken," I said softly, a watery smile tugging at my lips.

"Yeah," he agreed, voice rough but warm. "But maybe that’s okay."

Chapter 7

Another night with no nightmares. I could get used to this.

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