Page 25 of Harvested By The Mountain Man
I pull two trail cams from the high box, grab power packs, extension cable, and a couple of battery backups. The dome cams get wiped down, lenses checked.
I phone Jenkins and Pike, two of my trusted hands. This evening, we’ll run wire and mount cameras at the cabin’s treeline and entry points.
Before I leave the shed, I run my fingers over the stock of motion sensors I keep for the equipment barn. They’ll work at the cabin, too. They’re sensitive enough to trip a light, wake a dog, send a blip to my phone. Small things, but they buy time and create deterrence.
I strap the trail cams into the truck and slide a pistol into my hip holster. Open carry here isn’t for cowboy show. It’s a tool, and I keep it trained and legal. I run my thumb across the grip. I’m not going out to start a fight, but if Jake gets violent, I’ll stop him.
Chapter 22
Levi
The cabin is quiet, save for the occasional pop of a log in the hearth and the faint sound of the trail cam monitor on the table. I sit forward, elbows braced on my knees, eyes locked on the black-and-white feed flicking from one camera to the next. Woods. Drive. Porch. All clear.
I check my phone again, thumbing through Colton’s last message:
Got a partial hit on his whereabouts. Found another warrant in yet another state. Stay sharp.
No problem there. I’m definitely on high alert, almost like I expect something to happen. It’s the new moon so the sky is darker than usual. If Jake’s as devious as I believe he is, this would be an ideal time for him to make a move.
I glance at the time on my phone. Waiting and watching like this makes a man like me nothing but restless. I stand, pace once across the main room, then lean down to reset the cam feed. That’s when movement catches my eye.
Grainy pixels on the far-left screen – a shadow slipping through the treeline. Not an animal. Too tall. The figure stops and crouches low. My muscles lock tight. That has to be Jake Morrell.
I snap a shot of the screen, text it to Colton with one word:
Here
Almost immediately, my phone buzzes:
On my way. Don’t engage until backup arrives.
I huff under my breath. Easy advice when it’s not the woman and child you’ve come to care for so much. I reach for the pistol at my hip, check the chamber, then slip out the back door. My boots are near silent as I know just where to step to keep the noise down to a minimum.
I put the gun back in my holster. I’ve got to be careful with no trigger happy episodes … or I’ll be behind bars.
Jake doesn’t know I’ve seen him. Doesn’t know the cameras are awake now. He’s angling toward the porch, head low, shoulders hunched like a predator stalking prey.
“Jake,” I call, my voice loud, carrying in the stillness. He freezes, half-shadow, half-man. Slowly, he straightens, and even from here with the dark sky, I could swear I see a smirk on his face.
“You think you can hide her from me?” he calls back, his tone slick and taunting. “She’s mine. She’ll always be mine.”
The words are gasoline to the fire already in my veins. I step closer until he can see the set of my shoulders, the gun holstered at my side.
“You walked out. You left them both. You don’t get to rewrite history now.”
His smirk fades, replaced by a sneer. “Get out of my way.”
“Not a chance.”
He lunges, but he’s slower than he thinks. My shoulder slams into his chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. He scrambles up, swinging wild.
I duck, catch his arm, twist until he howls. My other hand drives him face-first against the side of a tree, bark grinding into his cheek.
“You so much as breathe near Hannah or Ivy again,” I growl in his ear, “you won’t be able to talk about it.”
Red and blue lights flicker through the trees just as Colton’s truck crunches up the lane. Relief surges, but I don’t let go until the sheriff and two deputies are at my side, cuffs ready.
Colton clasps them around Jake’s wrists, reciting rights in his official voice. “Outstanding warrants just caught up with you, Morrell. You’re done.”
