Page 61 of Trapped with the Forest Ranger
I stop. Don’t turn. Can’t.
"I meantwhat I said last night. All of it."
Tears sting. I nod. Just once. Then I climb into the truck.
Seatbelt clicks. The engine rumbles.
I look back.
He stands in front of the cabin, still as stone. Watching until the trees swallow the road between us.
I’ve spent my life leaving places behind, but leaving him feels like I’m making the worst mistake of my life.
Chapter 16
The forest servicetruck jostles along the recently cleared road, each turn taking me further from the cabin. Further from Caleb.
Hamilton chatters about the storm damage, pointing out places where landslides nearly took out entire sections of the route. I respond with appropriate noises of interest, but my mind remains back at the cabin, replaying our goodbye that wasn't really a goodbye at all.
"You okay back there?" Marty catches my eye in the rearview mirror. "Looking a little green. Road's still rough in spots."
"I'm fine." I force a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Just... processing the last week."
"Must've been intense." Hamilton twists in her seat to face me. "Stuck with the mountain hermit for all that time."
"Mountain hermit?" The description doesn't fit the complex man I've come to know.
"That's what some of the team calls Donovan." She grins, apparently unaware of the complicated emotions churning through me. "Nice guy, don't get me wrong, but he keeps tohimself. Been that way since he transferred here after..." She trails off, clearly unsure how much I know about Caleb's past.
"After the Carson Ridge fire," I finish for her, surprising her with my knowledge. "He told me about it."
Marty’s eyebrows rise, visible in the mirror. "He did? Wow. Took me two years of working with him before he mentioned Kim's name."
The casual revelation that Caleb shared something with me he rarely discusses with colleagues adds another layer to the ache spreading through my chest.
I turn to the window, watching the trees flash by, each one taking me closer to my regular life and further from the unexpected detour that's shaken its foundation.
"There's your campsite coming up." Hamilton points ahead where blue tents are visible through the trees. "Blue Spruce Campground. All your stuff they could save should still be there—rangers secured the sites during evacuation."
My rental car sits where I left it, seemingly ages ago though barely a week has passed. The sight of it—this connection to my normal life—should bring relief. Instead, it feels like a stranger's vehicle, belonging to a version of myself I'm no longer certain exists.
Marty helps unload my gear, setting it beside my car while Hamilton checks that the campsite has been properly maintained in my absence. I go through the motions of thanking them, assuring them I'm fine to continue alone, all while feeling increasingly hollow inside.
As they prepare to leave, Hamilton hands me a card. "If you're ever back in Angel's Peak, give us a call. Would love to see those eagle shots when they're published."
"I will." I tuck the card into my pocket, knowing I'll keep it even as I doubt I'll make that call. Returning would be too painful if...
I shake off the thought, waving as theydrive away before turning to my campsite and rental car. First things first—assess the damage, reorganize, and figure out next steps. The routine of packing proper equipment helps ground me, giving purpose to movements that might otherwise falter under emotional weight.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, the signal fully restored now that I'm back in range of civilization. Messages flood in, most prominently from my agent: "CALL IMMEDIATELY re: Nat Geo. Deadline tomorrow!"
Reality crashes back, demanding decisions I’ve momentarily pushed aside in the emotional fog of leaving Caleb. The Australia assignment—six months documenting endangered eagles on the other side of the world. A career-defining opportunity that perfectly aligns with my father's legacy. The very definition of perfect timing.
So why does it feel so wrong?
I start the car, needing to reach the motel in Angel's Peak where I can shower properly and sort through my thoughts. As I navigate the winding forest road, memories of the past week play through my mind—Caleb's reluctant hospitality that first stormy night, our gradual building of trust, and the surprising depth of connection that developed in such a short time.
And the sex. Especially the night—and day—when Caleb unleashed the darkness inside of him, treating me to some of the best sex I’ve ever had.
