Page 23 of Branded Mountain Man
The look he gave her was soft, grateful, full of the kind of love that still took her breath away. Four months, and she was still learning how to be loved by Colt Ramsey. Still discovering the man beneath the guilt and scars.
"Well," Nash said, clearing his throat. "We should let you two get back to your morning. Just wanted to see how you were settling in."
"And to extend an invitation," Sawyer added. "We're doing a holiday thing at the bunkhouse next month. Nothing fancy, just the crew and whoever wants to come. You two should join us."
"Christmas party?" Sloan asked.
"More like an excuse to drink too much and pretend we're civilized," Josh spoke up for the first time, his voice dry. "Fair warning—Sawyer gets sentimental when he's drunk."
"I do not."
"You cried during It's a Wonderful Life last year."
"That's a very moving film."
Despite his earlier reserve, Josh's mouth quirked into something that might have been a smile. "Anyway. You're welcome to come. Both of you."
"We'll think about it," Colt said.
After the crew left, Sloan and Colt sat on their porch with coffee, watching the morning mist burn off the valley below. It was peaceful, perfect, everything she'd never known she wanted.
"You should go," she said suddenly.
"Where?"
"The Christmas thing. With your crew."
Colt was quiet for a moment, turning his coffee mug in his hands. "I haven't been around people for Christmas in years."
"I know."
"What if I'm terrible at it? What if I don't remember how to be social?"
Sloan leaned against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of pine and sawdust that always clung to his clothes now. "Then you'll figure it out. And I'll be there to help."
"You want to go?"
"I want you to have the chance to reconnect with people who matter to you." She tilted her head to look at him. "Besides, I'm curious about this crew you used to work with. Want to see you in your natural habitat."
"This is my natural habitat now." Colt gestured toward the cabin, the mountains, the life they'd built together. "With you."
"I know. But that doesn't mean you can't have both."
He was quiet for another long moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay. We'll go."
"Good." Sloan kissed his cheek, tasting coffee and the promise of winter. "It'll be fun."
"I doubt that." But Colt was smiling when he said it, and Sloan felt something settle in her chest. Another piece of the life they were building, another step toward the man he was becoming.
COLT
Two weeks before the Christmas gathering, Colt was in his workshop, putting the finishing touches on a project he'd been working on for months. The wood was smooth under his hands, golden pine that he'd carved and sanded until it felt like silk.
But this wasn't just decorative carving. He'd used the brand—the same iron that had marked his failure—to burn a design into the wood. Sloan's mountain symbol, the one he'd seen her trace in the condensation on his window that first morning. The same symbol he'd carved into the cabin's support beam.
Turning his scar into something beautiful. His pain into a gift.
The irony wasn't lost on him.
