Page 6 of Mountain Man's Forgiveness
With a look of pure excitement, both women agree it’s a great place to start.
We head toward my south trail where I let them take the lead, the morning heat already building and the air thick with the smell of juniper. After a few minutes, the trail narrows as the brush grows thicker. Eva glances back at me, a few loose strands of her dark hair curling around her face. “How long have you owned this property?”
“About a year. The previous owner worked with Dr. Davis and Dr. Sheridan at Cobalt Ridge. Couldn’t say no when they asked if I’d continue allowing research access.”
“That’s good of you.” There’s genuine appreciation in her voice. “Not everyone wants researchers tramping through their land.”
I shrug. “Made sense.” She doesn’t have to know that protecting this kind of land used to be my whole life.
The conversation drops off as we push deeper into the trees, but I can’t stop watching her. Eva moves with the kind of grace that doesn’t make sense out here—sure-footed, confident, completely at ease. The sunlight catches on the back of her neck, and I swear my pulse stumbles trying to keep up. She’s got to be, what, ten years younger than me? At thirty-six, that’s too fucking young for me. Besides, I have nothing to offer someone with her whole future ahead of her.
She pushes a strand of hair off her cheek with the back of her wrist, beads of sweat dampening her hairlines from thehumidity. For one stupid second, I imagine leaning forward to do it for her. She’s so damn focused, it makes me ache to be seen with even half that kind of attention.
I take a deliberate step back, my boot scuffling as I put distance between us. This is a bad idea. She’s focused, passionate, knows exactly where she’s going. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life. Getting tangled up with someone like her—someone who reminds me of everything I used to be—that’s a complication I don’t need. Giving myself a mental slap, I do what I was hired to do.
After an hour, I’m impressed. Watching Eva work is fascinating. The woman knows her shit. She knows the names of all the plants and trees along the trail. I live here and have fought dozens of fires in the hill country, but I can’t say the same.
It’s also obvious that she’s teaching her assistant what to do this first research trip. Eva points out moss patterns and bark textures with an intense focus and patience that few possess. Every so often they pause to listen for bird calls, with Eva pointing out distinctive features of various species. The fact that she can identify a golden-cheeked warbler from any other bird out in the wild? I can see why she works so closely with Dr. Davis. Her commitment is impressive.
I met Dr. Davis and Dr. Sheridan about a year ago when I first bought the cabin. Both professors at Cobalt Ridge, they head the Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology. The previous owner granted the university access to the property for research walks, so they asked if I would do the same.
I couldn’t refuse. Before I lost my lower leg, protecting forest land was my life. The day of the accident, the Texas Hill Country had been in a severe drought. Winds caught a brush fire and carried ash and sparks so quickly that forests were ablaze. Fireswere moving fast through Edwards Plateau, so my unit was called in.
I’d made hundreds of jumps all over the country during my ten years as a smokejumper, but the wind caught my parachute that day, forcing me to land, and when I had to pivot, a dead tree crashed into me, white-hot agony exploding up my leg as my tibia shattered. There was no coming back from that.
Shaking off the memory, I focus on Eva. There’s something about watching her studying the dense canopy, binoculars in hand, that catches something deep in my chest. Yes, she’s hot as fuck. But it’s more than that. Watching her hunt for that bird with the same intensity I once had for fighting fires? It stirs something I figured was gone for good.
Eva glances back, raising an eyebrow like she’s asking if I see anything. I shake my head and motion for her to keep going. She turns back to the canopy, and I’m left wondering when the last time was that anyone looked at me like I might actually be useful without a look of pity accompanying it. It might help if I got out more, but still. The way she trusts my expertise is a hell of a thing.
Julia and Eva could not be more opposite. Julia is tiny with curly red hair and bright blue eyes. Not my type at all. Plus, the girl talks a mile a minute about anything and everything. I don’t know how she’s going to make it as a researcher, because the way she talks, I think she’ll scare all the animals away.
Eva is a great mentor though. She’s shown Julia how to be quiet in the field and talk in hushed whispers. At around 5’8”, Eva’s got a striking presence. Maybe it’s the confidence, or maybe it’s just that she belongs out here in a way I haven’t felt about myself in a long time. Watching her teach Julia reminds me of my early days as a smokejumper, the way my captain took time to show me the ropes, never rushed, always patient. Thatkind of mentorship matters. Eva’s got that same gift, and damn if it doesn’t make me respect her even more.
Three hours later, we’re heading back empty-handed but not defeated. Eva’s already talking about the next route, her finger tracing the next paths on her phone map. “If we start tomorrow, covering the southeast quadrant...” She trails off, glancing up at me. “That is, if you’re available tomorrow? Same time?”
I should probably play it cool, but the word comes out too fast. “Yeah. Definitely.”
Something flickers across her face, surprise maybe, or satisfaction. “Good.” She adjusts her baseball cap, and I catch the hint of a smile. “See you tomorrow then, Aiden.” Not Mr. Blackshear. Just my first name, and the way she says it lands differently than it has all day.
As I watch her car kick up dust down my drive, I realize I’m already counting the hours until tomorrow morning.
Chapter 5
Aiden
Queenie, my white German shepherd mix, is at full alert, ears pricked forward, so I know Eva’s just pulled up. As I swing the door open, Queenie launches into the warm morning air, a bolt of white lightning streaking towards her target.
“Hi, Queenie.” Eva’s voice is a husky rumble as she crouches to scratch behind Queenie’s ears, my dog becoming her shadow, glued to her side as they head across the grass toward me. My gut tightens at the sight of Eva’s curves. She’s a force of nature, nearly six feet tall, with a cascade of brown hair and smooth, tawny skin. Today, her tan shorts are accompanied by her usual button-down camp shirt. Each time I see her, I’m dragged deeper into her spell, like a man possessed.
Today marks the third time we’ll hit the trails together. The first two times, we had company—Julia, a human tornado, all bouncing energy and endless chatter. She’s Eva’s friend, a whirlwind of enthusiasm that rivals Eva’s own passion for the golden-cheeked warbler she’s studying. I hung back, listening to their strategies, their plans. And each time I saw Eva, my bodyreacted, primal and hungry. But I’ve learned to ignore those urges.
As she steps forward, she becomes tangled up in Queenie’s legs. As she starts to fall, I lean forward to catch her, my arms wrapping tightly around her torso. Our mouths inches apart, heat radiates between us as I stare at her full lips.
“Kiss me.”
I close the gap between us, greedy for her, my mouth crashing into Eva’s with a reckless abandon that surprises even me. Her lips are soft, but the pressure of her kiss is unyielding; she is not a girl who asks for what she doesn’t want. She claws at my shirt, twisting the cotton fabric until it exposes my abs. Her fingers trace across my stomach, her lips a wildfire, scorching me, consuming me. Every sweep of her tongue fuels the inferno between us.
“I want you, Aiden.” Her words are a hot, desperate whisper against my mouth.
