Page 8 of Mountain Defender

“Just give up,” he adds in a darkly malicious tone. “I’ll make it easier on you if you do.”

But nothing in my life has been easy.

I’ve never given up. And I’m not starting now.

CHAPTER 2

GAGE

I don’t knowwhy everyone is so insistent that I should be in a relationship.

Just because I happened to mention my plan to stop back at Rory’s to fix her step today, they all jumped on board with thisfinding the right womanthing.

Or rather, several iterations of theyou’ve been spending a lot of time with Rory and have you thought about asking her outquestion.

Just because I’m concerned about her safety—I nearly tripped on that loose board myself, and if Rory was coming home loaded down with groceries, not paying attention, she could easily hurt herself—it doesn’t have to have some hidden meaning.

And to answer the asking her out question; no, I haven’t thought about it.

Well. I guess that’s notentirelytrue. Last month, just after we finished the grilled cheese sandwiches Rory made for us, and I was feeling touched that she’d remembered me saying theywere my favorite as a kid, there was a moment when I wonderedwhat if?

What if I wasn’t irreparably damaged and not nearly good enough for a woman like Rory?

What if she’d shown any inkling of interest in me?

What if I was the confident guy I used to be, who wouldn’t have thought twice about asking out an attractive and interesting woman?

But the answer to all those questions is a resounding no.

So when Winter, my friend and teammate’s fiancée, gently quizzed me about Rory yesterday, I gave her a polite but firm,No, I’m not looking to date.I’m too busy. Relationships just aren’t for me.

I hadn’t even meant to bring up my impromptu trip to Rory’s—a deviation from our typical once-a-week visits. But I was leaving the team meeting yesterday, and Winter happened to be out walking her dog, so she caught up to me to ask if I wanted to come over the next morning for breakfast.

“I was just thinking it would be fun,” she explained, “since all of you guys are home for once. Usually at least one or two of you are out on a job. I can make waffles, omelets, bacon, and maybe even pick up those cinnamon rolls from Breakfast Bliss that you guys like so much.”

It sounded nice, and if I didn’t have plans already, I probably would have said yes. I’ve been really trying to be more social lately, at least with my friends and their partners. But I promised Rory I’d come over first thing, and I don’t want to let her down.

She wouldn’t complain if I canceled. That’s not how Rory is. She would very kindly accept whatever excuse I gave and tell me it was no big deal.

But itisa big deal. I may have my fair share of flaws, but going back on my promises isn’t one of them. And she already has so much on her plate—taking care of all the dogs at hershelter, coordinating rescues and adoptions, maintaining all the kennels, and keeping up with the never-ending list of repairs at her house. I asked her once why she didn’t ask for volunteers, and she got this funny look on her face before saying something vague about preferring to do everything on her own.

But she doesn’t seem to mindmehelping. And I have no intention of stopping. Not just because I ended up with a great companion, thanks to Rory, but like I told her yesterday, I like spending time with her.

She’s smart. Funny in her own quiet way. Hard-working. Generous. And she just has this way about her, like you could tell her anything and she would understand.

So it makes sense that I’d want to be friends with her.

Justfriends, to the contrary of Winter’s not-so-subtle hints.

As I navigate the winding road that takes me to Rory’s property—keeping an eye out for any deer that might take opportunity of the last few minutes of semi-dark before the sun officially rises—my thoughts wander to how different my life is now compared to two years ago.

Two years ago, I was a virtual hermit, going weeks without seeing anyone. I holed up in my house in Glover, a tiny town eighty miles northeast of Burlington. Working remotely, all my communications were through email and virtual meetings. I’d make a monthly trip to Burlington or St. Johnsbury to stock up on enough food to feed a small army. And whenever one of my old Army buddies would call or text, gently suggesting I should come to visit, Ialwayshad an excuse ready.

Then Enzo, a former Green Beret who was stationed at Fort Campbell with me, called to ask for my help. His then-friend, now fiancée, was in trouble, and he needed people he could trust to have her six.

How could I say no? Even though we didn’t serve on the same team, I trained with him. Saw him around base. And on morethan a few occasions, me and my fellow Night Stalkers were the ones to extract Enzo’s team from dangerous situations in the Middle East.

In the process, I realized I missed being part of a team. I missed making a difference. And when Enzo decided to form his own security team, the Green Mountain Guardians, despite my reservations, I wanted to say yes.

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