Page 2 of Her Mountain Man Secret
He sighs deeply, reaching up to give my hand a squeeze. “I’m good, Izz. Been a long time since I’ve seen Wyatt, that’s all.”
I nod. It must be overwhelming to meet up with somebody after twenty years of silence, but I give him a reassuring smile and say, “It’ll be okay. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
Dad takes a deep breath and finally gets out of the truck. He pats my shoulder as he strides past me, hurrying now, like he wants to get this over with. I hang back a little as he knocks on the cabin door, not wanting to intrude on his reunion with Wyatt. But as we wait for the door to open, I can’t help the curiosity that burns through me.
What is he like, this old friend of my dad’s?
And why haven’t they said a word to each other for two decades?
2
WYATT
I tapmy foot against the hardwood floor, waiting impatiently for the sound of an engine. It’s quiet in the cabin. Too damn quiet. My gaze slides to the empty armchair in the corner, my throat tightening.
Goddammit. Can’t believe the old man’s gone.
Ralph was like a father to me when I first joined the Cherry Hollow Fire Department. He knew I had a rough home life—a dead mom and an alcoholic dad. He took me under his wing, looking out for me in his brusque, no-nonsense kind of way. Hell, even after I quit the department and retreated to a cabin in the woods, Ralph never gave up on me. He helped me through some really dark times, never asking a damn thing in return.
Ralph bought this cabin back when he retired in 2018. It’s only about ten minutes from my own cabin, so we saw each other all the time, especially toward the end before he left for the hospice. I did what I could for him: fixing stuff around the cabin, buying groceries, or just shooting the shit and talking about the old days. I wanted to repay him for everything he did for me, but I didn’t even come close.
And now he’s left me this place.
Like he hadn’t already done enough.
It was a hell of a shock when Ralph’s lawyer called. I knew he didn’t have many people in his life, especially once he got sick and stopped leaving the house, but I still didn’t expect him to leave me anything. Especially not something split between me and Holden Mitchell, a man I haven’t seen for over twenty years.
Fuck, has it really been that long?
I’m getting old.
It’s weird, knowing I’m about to see Holden again. He was like a brother to me once, but the years of silence between us have hardened into something solid and immovable.
I run an agitated hand over my beard and stand up from my seat, pacing back and forth. Ralph’s armchair watches me from the corner, and I can almost see his stern face, bushy gray eyebrows scowling at me.
Pull yourself together, Wyatt,he’d say.Stand tall and face it.
That was his motto—his answer to all of life’s problems.
Stand tall and face it.
It’s enough to give me a swell of courage, and when the sound of an engine finally growls to a stop outside the cabin, I take a deep breath and head for the door. The knock doesn’t come for a little while, and when it does, I yank open the door like I’m ripping off a Band-Aid.
Holden.
He’s standing in the doorway, his wary expression mirroring my own as we take each other in.
“Wyatt.” He gives me an almost imperceptible nod of greeting.
“Holden.”
A beat of silence.
“You got old,” he says.
My lip quirks. Holden’s never been one to beat around the bush.
“So did you,” I tell him pointedly.
