Page 17 of Her Mountain Man Veteran

I swallow hard, then glance back at him. “Love you, too.”

And I mean it with all my heart.

10

DANE

I don’t sleepin my bed that night. Instead, I stretch out on the couch where I made Celeste mine, wishing like hell she was still with me. It feels wrong to be lying here without her, and after a few hours of patchy sleep, I wake at dawn, aching with the need to see my girl.

Fuck, eleven o’clock feels like forever away.

I’m so restless that I head outside into the dewy morning, rounding the back of my cabin to the little outbuilding I use as a workshop. It’s full of tools and wood, everything from oak to ebony, as well as a few half-finished projects I haven’t gotten around to finishing. I grab a hunk of cedar, cutting it into shape with my saw, deciding to make something special for Celeste. Outside, the forest wakes up as I work, the sun rising higher in the sky, and by the time I’ve added the finishing touches to the gift, it’s almost eleven.

I hurry to Brody’s cabin, anticipation flooding through me as I knock on the door. When it opens, I’m expecting to see Celeste waiting for me, those pretty pink lips curved into a smile. Instead, it’s Brody…and he looks like shit. His eyes are bloodshot, like he’s barely slept. I probably look pretty similar.

“I’m here to see Celeste.” My voice is forceful, so he knows it’s not up for debate. I may have more respect for Brody now I know what he’s done for my girl, but that won’t stop me from beating his ass if he tries to stop me from seeing her.

“She’s not up yet. Late night.” He looks at me pointedly, making it clear he knows she was with me. “Let her sleep. You and I need to talk.” Then his gaze catches on what I’m holding. “What’s that?”

I unfurl my hand to reveal the bookmark I made for Celeste this morning. It’s carved to look like a tree—long and thin, textured like bark, with carefully whittled leaves around the top. On the trunk, the initials ‘C + D’ are carved inside a heart, like lovers do on real trees.

“Made it for Celeste,” I say. “I know how much she likes to read.”

Brody stares at the bookmark, then nods slightly. “Looks good.” He clears his throat, like the compliment is choking him. “She’ll uh…yeah…she’ll like that.”

The atmosphere is awkward as hell. I was expecting Brody to be hostile, but he just looks tired. Maybe a little wary.

“Did Celeste talk to you?” I ask.

Brody grunts. “Yeah. Caught her sneaking back in.”

I’m expecting him to start yelling, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even look pissed off, and his lack of reaction is throwing me for a loop.

“Look, let’s just cut to the chase,” I say, frowning at him. “You have reservations. I get it. I’m older. Scarred?—”

“It’s nothing to do with the scars.” Brody sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I have respect for you as a vet, okay? And sure, I’m not crazy about the age gap. You must be nearly twenty years her senior. I don’t like that. But hell, that’s not what this is about either.” He looks over his shoulder, making sure Celeste isn’t in earshot. “Look, my sister has had a tough time, okay? She’s been treated badly, and I don’t want to see that happen again.”

I can see hints of the teenager he used to be staring out at me from eyes the same color as Celeste’s. A million emotions seem to swirl around in his gaze—terror, rage, reluctance.

“I know about your parents,” I tell him. “She told me everything last night. Opened up about how you took care of her, and everything you had to sacrifice. Told me how grateful she was.”

“I don’t need her gratitude.” Brody’s face tightens like he’s fighting back emotion. “She’s my little sister. I did what I had to, and I’d do it all again.”

We lapse into silence for a moment while he composes himself. Then I take a deep breath and say, “Look, I care about Celeste more than anything. You don’t have to like me, but I’m a man of my word, and I swear I’d rather die than hurt her. She’s it for me. Knew it from the moment I saw her.”

Brody looks at me for a long time, searching my face like he’s trying to find a lie. But eventually, he nods. “I believe you. Hell, it’s not my decision, anyway. She’s her own person. I can’t stop her from doing what she wants to do.” Then he shakes his head. “She was right…I can’t keep trying to protect her. I’m holding her back. Screwing her over, just like our parents did. Guess it’s just hard to let go.”

I understand where he’s coming from. In some ways, Celeste is more like his daughter than his sister. He raised her, and now, like most parents, he’s struggling to accept she’s grown.

“I’ll take care of her,” I say. “That’s a promise.”

“You better.” For a second, a familiar anger flares in his eyes. “If you ever think about hurting her, they’ll have to stitch you back together for your funeral. You hear me?”

Despite everything, I almost smile. “I hear you.”

Brody reaches out a hand, and I shake it once, a solemn promise. Then he steps outside, leaving the door open. “I’m going to chop some wood. Need to be alone to think things over. You can go in and wake her up if you want.”

“Thanks.”

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