Page 65 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
“Sure.”
She doesn’t have a file to fidget with, but she looks like she wishes she did. Her eyes dart around the shed before settling on a strand of her hair, which she winds around her finger again and again as she waits.
“Alright, so first—about the arguing. Or the disagreeing, whatever you want to call it. The way I see it, everyone’s entitled to their own opinions. Who am I to decide what’s right and what’s wrong? What’s truth and what’s bullshit?
“But at the same time, I’ve been in forestry a long while. That gives me a certain level of experience—hell, maybe even expertise—that means I’ve got a solid grasp of the subject. I’m not saying I’m infallible,” I add, raising my hands to show I know my own limits. “But I reckon I know more than most. Even inside the industry—let alone folks on the outside.”
I pause, working my jaw, searching for the right words.
“And there’s another thing. Loyalty. Loyalty to Jack. He’s practically raised me. I was eighteen when I started at McKenzie Forestry Services, green as hell. Jack already had nine years in the Rangers behind him, three more with the company. He took me under his wing. Knocked the fight out of me when I needed it, gave me purpose when I didn’t have one. Doubt I’d have lasted six months without him. He’s the reason I am who I am today. I owe him everything.”
I glance toward the window, memory crowding in. For a moment, I see the young, angry kid I used to be. Jack’s voice is hauling me back in line. Jack’s steadiness when I had none.
When I turn back, she hasn’t moved. Still, silent, eyes locked on me.
“And I’m loyal to the company too,” I continue. “After a rough start, I found I fit here. They trained me. Backed me. Kept me on in lean years when they could’ve cut me loose. Promoted me when I earned it. They gave me a life. So yeah—when Isee a threat to the company, I take it personally. Because it is personal. This place? These people? They’re family. It’s the work I love with men I’d trust my life to.
“You get that, Luna? I’d risk my life for this place. Gladly.”
When I look back at her, I see tears. One escapes, tracing a line down her cheek before she wipes it away with the sleeve of Eric’s hoodie.
“That’s… so sweet,” she whispers, voice trembling. “It’s wonderful. It’s how things should be.”
She exhales heavily. “It’s how I wish my life were.”
“Then you’ll understand,” I say, my voice low but firm, “why I came down so hard on you about Kill Climate Change. About the banner. From where I stood, it looked like you came here to sabotage everything we’ve built. I couldn’t allow that. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I do. I really do, Luke.”
“And I’m sorry if I came on too strong. I let my temper run me. I was aggressive. Forceful. Hell, I was rude. You were under our roof, hurt and needing care, and I treated you like an enemy. That wasn’t right.”
“Well, like you said… I was here to stir up trouble. You had every right?—”
“No.” My voice cuts sharper than I intended. “I had a right to ask questions. To challenge you. But I didn’t have the right to disrespect you. That was on me. I should’ve done better. I’m sorry, Luna. Truly. Can you forgive me?”
She lets out a shaky laugh, eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Forgive you? Oh, you stupid man. Of course, I forgive you. It’s me who should be apologizing. I never should’ve come here in the first place… though I’m glad I did. Even with everything. After you took me in, I should’ve been grateful. I should’ve been decent. Instead, I argued and insulted you. I owe you the apology.”
I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.
“Well… I’ll admit some of your insults were pretty funny.”
She smiles back, a little lighter now.
“Thanks. I’ve always had a dark sense of humor. Gets me into trouble constantly. But… you said you had more to tell me?”
“I do. And it gets harder.” My chest feels heavy, but I push through. “First, though—thank you. For what you said about leaving Kill Climate Change. That means a hell of a lot to me. I don’t trust that group, and I don’t trust that man, Tim Collier. I think there’s more going on there than anyone knows. But that’s for another time.
“Point is—thank you. It matters. More than you realize.
“And yes, Luna. I would like to be your friend.”
I reach out my hand—broad, scarred, work-beaten. She places hers in mine—small, soft, fragile. Just like her.
And in that moment, I’ve never felt more like the damn sasquatch she mocked me for being. Yet her touch is warm, electric, alive. I don’t want to let go. But I do.
Her hand slips back into the long sleeve of Eric’s hoodie. Mine drops to my lap. Still tingling. Still wanting.
