Page 9 of Mountain Man's Redemption

Before he can see me, I hide my face behind the oak, breathing hard. I don’t move. Only when I hear the sounds of his axe chopping up the fallen tree do I finally sneak away, back toward the cabin. Then I sit down at my easel and try to pull myself together.

He’s not paying you to stare at him, Daphne!

He’s paying you to paint.

So, trying to ignore the noises from the forest, I pick up my pencil and force myself to finish the sketch. It gets easier the more I work, and finally, the world melts away as I begin to paint. The day passes in a blur of colors, and when the sunlight dims, I hear Garrett emerge from the woods, hauling several sacks of wood over his shoulders. I set my brush down, stretching my back and rubbing the feeling back into my legs. Something about painting always sucks me in—I lose all concept of time—but seeing Garrett brings me back to earth with a jolt of my heart.

“I should probably get going,” I say, my cheeks heating as I remember how I spied on him earlier. “It’s getting too dark to paint.”

His heavy footfalls stop beside me as he looks at the canvas. “Damn, you got a lot done. Looks awesome.”

“Thanks. It’s just the basic colors for now, but tomorrow it will start to take shape more. The whole thing should take about twenty hours total, maybe twenty-five.”

Garrett nods, and I feel his eyes on me as I pack up my supplies.

“You, uh…” He clears his throat, tries again. “How would you feel about staying for dinner?”

I meet his gaze, a flutter of surprise in my chest. I assumed Garrett would want me out of his hair as soon as possible. He’s obviously a man who appreciates solitude; otherwise, he wouldn’t live out here in the forest. But I can see the sincerity beneath his grumpy façade. He really does want me to stay, and a crazy part of me feels like doing a little happy dance.

“I’d love that,” I tell him honestly. “Dinner sounds great.”

And for the first time, I finally see Garrett smile beneath his beard.

A real smile.

6

GARRETT

“This is incredible,”Daphne says. “Seriously, the best steak I’ve ever had.”

We’re sitting at the table, the sky fading to black outside as we eat. When Daphne agreed to stay for dinner, I wanted to make something nice for her, so I cooked up a couple of steaks in peppercorn sauce, loaded baked potatoes, and buttery roasted vegetables.

“There’s more cherry pie for dessert,” I tell her. “And some ice cream to go with it.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She grins at me, and as she looks back down at her plate, my eyes linger on her pretty face. I can’t believe I’m having dinner with this girl. After watching her from the window for way too long earlier, I forced myself to head into the forest and chop some wood. I hoped it would relieve the tension growing inside me. But it didn’t work. Hell, when I came out of the woods and saw Daphne sitting at her easel, it was like seeing her for the first time all over again.

“I wish I could cook like this.” She looks wistful as she takes a bite of potato. “I can’t even toast a pop tart.”

Goddammit, she’s cute.

“I owe it all to my mom,” I say. “We had nothing growing up, but damn, she could make the crappiest, most basic meal into something delicious. She taught me everything I know.”

“That’s amazing.” Daphne’s brow creases for a moment. “It must have been tough, though…having so little when you were young.”

At her words, my mind flashes back to the trailer I grew up in. It wasn’t much, but hell, Mom did everything she could to make it nice. I was her whole world and she never let me doubt it. She was working three jobs to put food on the table, never had a moment of rest, but she still found ways to make my childhood feel special. I neverfeltpoor with Mom around. The other kids might have had better toys, better clothes, but there’s no way any of them had a better mom. No damn way.

A lump builds in my throat, and I clear it quickly, forcing myself back to the present. Daphne is watching me, concern tightening her features, and I give her a reassuring smile.

“It wasn’t easy, but I had an awesome mom. Made all the difference.” I hurry to change the subject. “What about your family? They still in Iowa?”

Immediately, she looks down at her plate. “Yeah, they’re still there.”

It’s my turn to frown. Every time Iowa is mentioned, Daphne clams up. When she told me she moved to Cherry Hollow for a change of scenery, I could tell she was holding something back. Hiding something. I’d be one hell of a hypocrite if I blamed her for keeping secrets, but damn, I wish I knew what really forced Daphne to leave her hometown behind.

“We don’t have to talk about your family,” I tell her firmly. “But if there’s anything you want to talk about…well, mountain men make damn good listeners.”

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