Page 1 of Frigid Mountain Man
CHAPTER ONE
Rowan
“Is the open house today, son?”My father, Warren, asked me over breakfast on our third morning in Forest Grove. It had been a whirlwind of a few days with moving and settling in, but we were getting there.
“Yes. I’m going to head over after breakfast. Did you want to join me?”
“Thanks, but I’m going to wait for Mom. She isn’t feeling too well this morning and wanted to sleep more.”
“Okay. The move tuckered her out a lot, yeah?”
“Yeah. Thank you for all you did. We’re so glad to be back home.” My father reached across the table and rested his hand on my arm. I covered it with my own and squeezed.
“Of course, Dad. I’m always here for you two.”
“Are you looking forward to your new job?” He asked, moving his hand off my arm.
“I am. It’ll be good to do some hard work. But I wanted to make sure you and Mom were all set up before it takes up too much of my attention.”
“How did we get so lucky with a kid like you?”
I snorted. “Almost forty and you’re still calling me a kid.”
“You’ll always be my kid, kid.” Dad chuckled and stood up from his chair before beginning to clear the table. I took over before he could do much and poured us both another cup of coffee.
The first thing on my list when moving to Forest Grove, Montana, was making sure my parents were settled and comfortable. I moved them into their new home and left my things in the finished basement apartment, where I’d temporarily stay until I found my own place. I could always stay at the bunkhouse on the ranch where I scored a job as a lumberjack at the Off Duty Rescue Ranch.
The ranch manager, Ash, wanted to expand and build cabins, hence the need for logging trees. I’d worried it wouldn’t be so easy to find a job, but I got lucky. Clay Patrick, head of the logging crew back in Appleridge, had a lot of connections from his time taking part in the lumberjack games. He sent Ash my info, and it was a done deal.
I’d miss my hometown of Appleridge, but my parents wanted to spend the rest of their years in the town they grew up. Who was I to deny them of that?
Besides, I’d put them through hell and back most of my years and considering I was closing in on forty years old, it was time for me to settle down. As in not bounce around jobs and, hell, maybe give them some grandchildren. All I cared about was making them happy.
Later that day, I drove over to the ranch in my blue pick-up truck and parked in the lot. Grabbing the few bags, I brought with me for my first night in the bunkhouse, I walked onto the ranch, heading straight for Ash’s office, despite the abundance of activity happening all around me.
The open house was in full swing, with lots of food cooking, horses on display, and the ranch hands talking about their work. The ranch hands wore a uniform of black flannels, blue wranglers, and black boots, so they were easy to spot amid the crowd. I dressed in a similar fashion with a red flannel, dark blue wranglers, and beige construction boots.
Carnival games spread over the ranch, from ring toss to whack a mole, and lots of stuffed animals hung around them, waiting for someone to win.
After checking in with Ash and stopping by the bunkhouse to drop off my things, I walked around and introduced myself, getting a feel for the land, how the ranch worked, and where I’d be working cutting and logging wood. I’d rather be familiar with the layout than fumble my way around when I started on my first day.
As I walked back towards the carnival games, my stomach rumbled, the smell of fried dough and other sweet trees wafting into my nose.
I looked around, weighing my options, but there were so many to choose from.Corn dogs, hot dogs, pretzels, fried chicken tenders and fries, fried dough, ice cream.That was only naming a few.
“But I want to see the horses, Mommy! I don’t want to eat!” A child yelled and when I looked down, an adorable blonde little boy stomped his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, and pouted.
I chuckled to myself. Despite his tantrum, his little face was hard to get mad at. When I glanced up, a young, curvy woman stood beside him. My heart picked up speed, reminding it was there very much beating in my chest as I stared at the beautiful woman. She couldn’t be older than her early twenties, with creamy, tanned, olive colored skin, curly brown hair, half up halfdown with some wild curls in her face along with tumbling down her back.
“Leo, what did I tell you? No horses until we eat.” The gorgeous woman scolded him, but he wasn’t having it.
The little boy threw himself to the ground, kicking and screaming. Without missing a bit, the woman lifted him into her arms, his harsh movements instantly calmed. She carried him over to a nearby seat and comforted her child as he cried. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of her.
Her kind, gentle nature. The way her son trusted her, his body relaxing as soon as she picked him up.
I wanted to, needed to, no,hadto know more.
As not to come off like a creep, I moved into the line for food but kept my eyes on her. She hugged her child close and rubbed small circles on his back.
