Page 48 of Orphan Girl's Mountain Men

"What the fuck did you say to her, asshole?" the one in front growls—he looks like the oldest. "She's upset. Were you hitting on her, pervert?"

"The opposite. I turned her down, actually."

"That's not what she says," the one beside him snaps.

"Yeah, well, since you weren't there, how the fuck would you know?"

His eyes light up with fury. "You calling my sister a liar? Someone needs to teach your kind a lesson."

My kind?

If I can't burn off this energy with sex, I guess I'll do it the old-fashioned way. I unholster my gun, empty the chamber, and toss it onto the passenger seat of my truck. No misunderstandings. No excuses.

"You sure you want this? Because once we get started, I ain't stopping until I'm done."

CHAPTER 17

Hailey

Ifeel awful watching Reed leave with that forced cheerfulness, but I keep telling myself it's for the best.

If letting him believe I have feelings for Dean is what it takes to make him back off, then so be it—even if it cuts deep to see that flicker of hurt on his face, the one he tried so hard to hide behind his smile. It was hard to watch. I hurt him, and I hate myself for it.

"It's fine," I tell myself, because I didn't have the strength to reject him. All week I swore I would—but the second I saw him lying there in my bed, watching me with that low-lidded gaze, my throat went dry. All I could think about was kissing him, crawling into bed with him, and riding him till kingdom come.

Even now, the images won't stop flashing through my mind—teasing me, tormenting me with what could've been.

I finally let out the breath I've been holding, but it does nothing to ease the tightness in my chest and shoulders. A wild urge rises—to run after Reed and tell him the truth—but common sense wins out. It's for the best. We needed to end it, for both our sakes. The words loop like a mantra, enough to make me let go of the door handle.

I crack my neck and decide I need a shower before bed—I must smell like horse dung. I've been learning so much over the past few weeks, and I'm grateful for it, but it's been exhausting. Thankfully, starting next week, I'll be shifting into more logistics work with Dean, which means less stall mucking and a little more brain power.

The last time we talked, Dean asked if I planned to go all-in with livestock, and I think he assumed I was trying to start some kind of full-blown farm. I guess I've mistakenly given off that vibe. But I only have about twenty acres, and half of that's taken up by the lake, with another quarter lost to forest, so I don't have the space for livestock, even if I wanted it. But in any case, that's not what I want. Not really.

I explained that I'm not trying to run a commercial farm. I only want a little homestead—a family farm, like my parents used to dream about. A few raised beds with potatoes, perhaps peas, onions, carrots, and cabbages, maybe hens for eggs. Pumpkins in the fall. Enough for self-sufficiency. And if I end up with any surplus, I'll trade it with other homesteaders or take it to the Saturday farmer's market. That's it. Nothing big. A lifestyle choice, not a business venture. Something real. Tangible.

Dean nods, and I think for the first time, he starts to see I’m not just playing country-girl—I am serious about building a life here, quiet and simple as it may be.

Reed's offer to help renovate my roof shows he thinks I'm serious too—that he sees this isn't just some passing whim.

I sigh as Reed's expression fills my mind again, along with the memory of that assumption he made. And the thing is… he's not entirely wrong. I've found myself growing more attracted to Dean over the past few weeks—and even, oddly enough, to Lennon. He still keeps his distance, but he's not actively hostile anymore. And his daughter? She's so damn adorable she makesmy back teeth ache. Watching the two of them together softens something in me. It eases a bit of the ache I carry from losing my own family.

Lennon reminds me of my dad—soft-spoken and gentle, but firm when he needs to be. Dean is more commanding, but always fair, and he never underestimates me. Still, what I feel for either of them doesn't come close to what I feel for Reed. Reed makes me feel light. Happy. Brave, even. Like anything's possible.

They all move me in different ways—each one drawing out a different side of me. It doesn't make any sense to be falling for three men, but that's what it feels like, no matter how many times I tell myself I'm being ridiculous. Perhaps it's the grief—losing my aunt and uncle scrambled something in my brain. Maybe this is another stage, one that comes before acceptance. Or maybe it's plain old lust and loneliness.

Either way, it's not worth risking their friendship over.

Still feeling like absolute garbage, I shower and crawl into bed. It takes me almost an hour to fall asleep and I haven't been out for more than two when a knock rattles my door.

I'm a light sleeper by nature, so I jolt awake the moment I hear the knock. Groggy and a little anxious, I pad to the door and crack it open—only to find Dean standing there, wearing a grim expression.

"Sorry to wake you," he says. "But did Reed by any chance tell you where he was going? A few of the hands said they saw him leave your cabin earlier."

So much for being discreet, Reed. I blush and shake my head. "No, he didn't say anything. And we didn't, um… he came over, but I didn't…"

Thankfully, Dean understands without me having to finish the sentence. He gives me a clipped nod, though the worry never leaves his face.

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

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