Page 6 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Challenge
PAGET
Iwas making a complete and utter fool of myself. My favorite song from childhood came on the radio, so I blasted it, singing at the top of my lungs with the windows down and the breeze blowing my hair.
Halfway through the song, I saw a slight twitch at the corner of Collin’s mouth, and that was exactly my goal. So I didn’t stop singing, even in my disturbingly off-key way. I hoped he found it adorable.
And there it was. I’d never been much of a people pleaser, but I wanted this guy to like me. I wanted him to feel the same zing of attraction I’d been blown away by since the second I saw him—not in the picture on the website, but in person.
This guy’s hotness had to be seen in person to be believed.
I stopped singing abruptly and twisted the volume knob to cut the sound and asked, “What’s a fire tower trail?”
He looked around, probably not sure where the question was coming from.
“There was a sign back that way,” I added, hitching my thumb over my shoulder.
“Oh, the fire tower.” He gave one nod, tilting his head slightly to the right. “It’s up that way. You walk about a half mile, and there’s a fire tower. Big tourist destination. That’s all it is these days.”
“I guess at one time that’s how they fought fires up here in the mountains?”
“Yeah.”
We weren’t exactly in the mountains yet, but I didn’t point that out. Maybe the trail got steeper.
“Let’s do it,” I said.
He frowned. “Do what?”
“Go see the trailhead.”
Everything in him seemed to resist my request. We had supplies in the back of the truck that someone could steal. That would be his biggest objection. But I’d seen him lock it all up in that box thingy. Someone would need the key to get into it.
Or maybe he’d insist we had to get back. We had yard work to do, after all. That was why he’d bought the supplies in the first place.
But he shocked me by making the turn. This time, he used a turn signal, confirming my suspicions that when he’d made the earlier turn without one, it had been impulsive. I immediately thought he was probably a turn signal kind of guy. I always used mine too, but if I made a last-minute decision, I didn’t lose sleep over it.
The turn plunged us directly into a large patch of dirt that I assumed was the parking area. Next to it was the beginnings of a trail marked by a big wooden sign.Hartsville Walking Path.
So we were still in Hartsville. We’d been on the road a good ten minutes before we reached the hot dog stand. I’d just assumed we’d pass through a town or two before getting to city limits.
“I’m not really in my hiking shoes,” he said, glancing down.
He wore sneakers, but that was fine. Even if the trail was uphill, I doubted it was a true hike. It was probably designed for sightseers—a simple path that led to a lookout point. Nobody was hauling a backpack full of overnight provisions up here and popping a tent.
Collin let me lead the way as I walked. I wasn’t sure whether he lagged behind because he was a reluctant participant, or he was checking out my ass. Part of me hoped it was the latter.
We settled into companionable silence until we reached the top of the fire tower. It was the most breathtaking mountain view I’d ever seen.
“Looks like this place has seen better days,” he said.
His voice pulled me from my reverie. He was still standing near the entrance, like he was ready to bolt down the metal stairs at any moment.
“Get over here,” I said, turning back to look out.
I’d just boldly ordered him around. But he was missing out if all he was seeing were the dust-covered floors and dirty, cracked windows surrounding us.
He did as I commanded, and that brought a smile to my face. Something about it felt like he’d finally let down the wall of resistance he’d had up since the moment I arrived, and I was here for it.
We stood side by side, looking out over the wild stretch of mountains, their peaks dipped in gold from the setting sun. The sky was softening into pinks and purples, streaked with wispy clouds. Trees blanketed every direction, their tips glowing in the evening light.
