Billionaire Lumberjack's Beauty: A Standalone Billionaire Mountain Man Age Gap Arranged Marriage Fo

Chapter 1

Stay away from the Barkers.

Staring up at the vast wilderness spread across towering Barker Mountain above me, those haunting words of warning echo in my head the same way they have since I was a child.

They always came with a deep sense of foreboding. Though, at that age, I didn’t comprehend the true reason why Dad was so insistent. It became a part of the way I thought, anyway, and morphed how I acted whenever one of the Barkers would cross my path in Helena.

Move to the other side of the street.

Avoid eye contact.

Let Dad handle anything that needs to be said to them.

That was sage advice then and something I should be heeding now.

If I had a choice.

Now, I understand what I could never fully comprehend as a child—that “dangerous” isn’t a strong enough descriptor for the Barkers.

Hence, my entire body trembling.

My heart beating out of my chest.

Blood rushing in my ears.

Fear threatening to choke me before I even make it up the mountain.

Any sane person would feel the same in my position, turn the car around, and race right back home. Because all the warnings I received in my youth were sugarcoated and glossed over with one of Dad’s forced smiles, hiding the true nature of the family who needed to be avoided. And the passing years have only strengthened their stranglehold on Montana and ensured no one would rise against them.

As one of the founding families of the state, their deep embedment in politics and the running of almost every major business in Montana means they can wield their power ruthlessly, without anyone questioning why their rivals disappear. And their “fuck you” amounts of money and resources only continue to grow exponentially.

They’re willing to do anything to keep that control, to harness that power, to protect what’s theirs.

And everyone knows who is responsible for pulling all the strings—and triggers—Weston Barker.

More commonly known as The Beast of Barker Mountain…

The reclusive head of the Barker family hasn’t left the peak that bears his family name since I’ve been alive—except to “allegedly” unalive anyone who crosses them—nor has anyone even seen him in the last thirty years.

But he doesn’t need to be seen to be heard.

His reputation definitely precedes him…

Ghastly violence.

Utter brutality.

Unquenchable ruthlessness.

Unrelenting focus and fury.

All these add up to bad fucking news…yet I’m about to enter his domain in nothing more than a cocktail dress and pair of stilettos.

A shiver rolls through me that has nothing to do with the chillier air up at this elevation and everything to do with what and who awaits me on the top of the cursed mountain.

Goosebumps break out across my skin even though I’m securely locked in my car with the heat blasting.

One single emotion clogs my throat and makes my entire body tremble.

Dread.

That’s what this is—the stone-cold knowledge that I’m walking into the proverbial hungry lion’s den—without any sort of weapon or defense—to offer myself to him as a tasty snack.

You can do this.

You have to.

I can’t even begin to fathom the consequences of the alternative—turning around and going home—despite it being what Dad would want. Deep down, though he forbade me from coming, we both know this is the only way he’s getting out of this shitstorm he created alive.

Why did you have to cross the Barkers, Dad?

He never gave me an explanation, never offered any sort of information that might have shed light on the very clear message he had received that sent me up here, but he should have recognized what the consequences would be for upsetting them, and now, it’s up to me to ensure he doesn’t suffer them.

Ensuring his life means sacrificing mine.

Not that there’s much going on in it right now other than endless hours at work and nights spent curled up under a fuzzy blanket with a great book, but that’s beside the point.

This has to happen.

Suck it up and drive, Callista.

I tighten my hands on the steering wheel, still staring up at the massive, ominous mountain—the trees so dense and tall I can’t even see the house that stands at the top.

The Beast’s lair…

No gate blocks the unmarked, narrow gravel road that ascends the steep peak because no one is stupid enough to set foot on Barker property.

The Beast doesn’t need a gate or any sort of warning sign. The consequences are implicit, understood by anyone who has ever heard the name, including me. Yet, I still take my foot off the brake and press the other pedal, inching onto the rustic drive.

Stone crunches under my tires as I move forward at a snail’s pace, as if advancing so slowly will somehow change the inevitable.

It won’t.

That reality twists my gut, and I force myself to depress the gas and drive up the first part of the switchback that leads into the thick, hauntingly beautiful forest.

A claustrophobic canopy envelopes me, blocking out the last of the late afternoon light until it’s almost midnight dark, the way I imagine it always should be around anything involving the Barkers.

You’ll be okay.

There isn’t any other option.

I have to stand my ground. No matter what the man at the top of this mountain does or says, I can’t let him hurt Dad because of one stupid mistake. That wouldn’t be fair in any world, and I could never live with myself if anything happened to him.

Let it be me.

The higher I climb up the winding, narrow gravel road, the tighter my chest becomes and my grip on the steering wheel whitens my knuckles. My body continues to tremble, and I reach out and crank on the heat as high as it’ll go, hoping it will quell some of the chills. But it’s only wishful thinking, since they aren’t caused by anything other than my own nerves.

“I forbid you to do this, Callista. I’ll figure something out. Figure out a way to appease him…”

Remembering the tears in Dad’s eyes as he made the plea only makes them prick in my own, and I swipe them away to clear my vision as I take another turn up the steep incline, the tires of my car perilously close to the massive drop-off at the side.

If he knew I was here right now, that I disobeyed his order, he would do everything in his power to stop me. Which is precisely why I waited for him to leave town on his business trip to make the three-hour drive here from Helena.

By the time he realizes what’s happened, it’ll be too late.

I’m going to have to face The Beast of Barker Mountain, beg his forgiveness, supplicate myself, and offer the one thing I have that he might want—my body.

Acid crawls up my throat, and I swallow it before my gag reflex makes me lose the bile that sloshes around in my gut all over the inside of my car.

Breathe.

In. Out.

Repeat.

Time ticks by slowly, the digital clock on the dashboard clicking over minute by minute as I continue to ascend through skeletal reaching branches that scrape along the roof and sides of the car. Even they seem intent on holding me back, preventing anyone from getting to the peak—a warning from Mother Nature that even she knows not to fuck with The Beast.

The sun disappears fully behind the mountain, darkening my drive even more. Only my high beams pointed in front of me make anything visible—two streams of light in the pitch blackness.

But I can feel it…

Something watches me from just beyond the reach of the light.

Eyes follow me from the trees.

Black bears, wolves, mountain lions…

All the above and more prowl this forest and share the mountain with The Beast—the only breathing things dumb enough to do so.

Except me, apparently.

Though, I’m not dumb, just desperate to save the man who has given his life for me. Who raised me on his own. Who’s never been anything but generous and loving and giving. Who time and again put aside his needs for mine. A man who made a mistake that I won’t allow to cost him his life.

This has to work.

And there’s no turning back now.

Even if I wanted to, there isn’t any physical way to turn around on this road until I reach the top.

Which seems to be taking an eternity.

Each passing second eats away at my resolve.

By the time the moon starts to come out almost an hour into my ascent, barely filtering through the canopy, my whole body shakes violently, the pent-up tension and fear ready to shatter me completely. But the forest starts to thin in front of me, and it suddenly opens into a clearing with a circular gravel drive that leads up to a house that makes my jaw drop.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I brake and lean forward to stare up at it through the windshield.

The huge cabin-style mansion stands in the dead center of the glade. Completely out of place here, tucked away on the mountain, the almost regal structure bears the evidence of its age.

Dark, worn stone.

Ancient hand-hewn beams that look wider than the damn car.

Towering three stories, with beautiful windows that must hold stunning views of the mountains and valleys that surround this place.

How the hell did they build this up here?

The treacherous road I just drove up would have made it impossible to bring up building materials and all the workers it would require for a mansion like this, especially back then, without the technology we have today.

But if anyone could do it, it would be the Barkers.

The Beast’s ancestors likely built it, but now, this is his domain—his throne room, where he controls the entire Barker empire.

What the hell are you doing, Cal?

Do you really think he’s going to listen to you?

I squeeze my eyes closed and inhale a deep breath.

It might have been rash coming up here, but wasting time hoping and praying the Barkers wouldn’t strike out against Dad for what he did wasn’t an option I could choose.

Not when there was something I could do about it.

Not after seeing that note pinned to the door with an axe.

I ease off the brake and roll up to the front of the dark house, throwing the car into park. My breath catches in my chest, and I force myself to take several deep fortifying inhalations before I turn off the engine and step out, sliding my keys into the small cross-body purse that holds little more than my lipstick and phone.

The cold night wind whips around me, bringing with it the smell of the first fall leaves, decaying plant matter, and a hint of the threat of snow, even though it’s still early in the season for that at this elevation.

Up here, things are so different than down in town.

Wilder.

More dangerous and unpredictable.

Just like the man I’m about to plead with.

The house stands gloomy and ominous, soaring over me, dwarfing me with its size and presence. Even without a sign, it screams, “Get away! Do not enter! No trespassing, if you know what’s good for you.”

I’ve always been a rule follower, but not today.

Today, I can’t be.

I stare down at my heels in the uneven gravel that leads to the porch and wince. Not the best foot attire for the location, but I needed to look my best, present something he might actually be interested in.

Instead of coming in my usual sweats and T-shirt with my hair tossed up in a messy bun, my honey-colored curls float around my face and down over my shoulders, courtesy of the curling iron I haven’t used in years.

I glance at the side mirror, checking the makeup I applied after I dragged out the bag that I hadn’t touched in God knows how long from under my sink.

The woman who stares back at me isn’t me.

She isn’t the librarian who spends all her time outside the library in her home one, curled up with a book and a mug of hot cocoa.

I feel like make-believe Barbie, but the tight black dress and the red stilettos left over from my twenties were all I really had that I thought might interest a man like The Beast, one who undoubtedly could have any woman in the state he wants and probably has.

No amount of smoky liner or mascara can hide the fear in the green eyes staring back at me in the mirror.

You got this.

I take a step away from the car, and my ankle starts to buckle, but I quickly grab the hood to right myself, then try to find my balance.

Shit.

That was smooth.

It’ll be a lot harder to seduce The Beast with a broken ankle.

I carefully make my way to the porch. Each step ramps up my heart, making it gallop against my ribcage. Blood thunders through my ears, and I take the three creaking treads up onto the old planks that lead to the double front doors.

The click, click, click of my heels on the aging wood echoes in the still night, filling the clearing around the house, and something rustles in the trees to my left.

I whip my head in that direction but can’t see anything in the pitch-black forest.

All the hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and another shiver rolls through me as I search for the source.

Knowing something I can’t see is watching me.

Sensing the predator there, just beyond the faint light the rising moon provides.

Shuddering, I raise my hand and do the unthinkable—knock at The Beast’s door.

The honey-blond-haired woman in the skin-tight black dress and red stilettos raises her small hand and knocks at the front door. Even with her hesitance, the sound reverberates through the clearing and to me.

So foreign.

Something I haven’t heard in decades.

Evidence of someone invading my territory.

Definitely uninvited and unwelcome.

I bite back the snarl that threatens to slip from my lips. Her eyes have already darted this way once, and I don’t need to give her any more reason to search for me in the darkness.

Better to watch from the shadows to see what she does when I don’t answer the door.

Get back in her car and drive away?

That would be the wise decision and a lucky result for her after daring to set foot on Barker Mountain.

Stupid girl.

I tighten my grip on the axe in my hand until my fingers ache, forcing myself to remain still and silent, the same way the predators who lurk in these woods do when they’re hunting their prey.

The way I do before I kill something.

And she would be an easy mark.

Those shoes…

That tight little dress barely covering an inch of her thighs…

The way her small frame trembles violently…

Though at least fifty yards separate us, I can still see the fear in her wide eyes, which just happen to be set in one of the most beautiful faces God ever graced this planet with.

She might as well have stepped straight off a Renaissance painting, some sort of goddess sent to tempt me and destroy my refuge on the mountain…

Flawless, peachy skin that practically glows in the moonlight streaming onto the porch. High cheekbones surrounded by flowing golden curls. Toned legs for days and flared hips my fingers itch to sink into.

The intruder is stunning, in a dangerous way, but she wouldn’t last a second in these woods.

Or with me.

She shouldn’t be here.

The moment the motion sensors went off at the base of the driveway, I held my breath, praying the car wouldn’t turn in, that no one would be stupid enough to try to come up to the peak. But tracking it all the way up the road and into the clearing proved that someone is dumb enough.

This pretty blonde.

Pulling her red bottom lip beneath her teeth and chewing on it, she takes a few steps back and stares up at the house, looking at the windows on each floor as if she might see something different from this vantage point.

There isn’t anything to see.

No one to answer her knock or appear in the glass panes that face the clearing.

Releasing an annoyed little huff, she steps forward and knocks again, immediately shifting to the side to peek in one of the front windows that flank the double doors.

Spying on me…

Just like the others.

This time, the snarl slips from my mouth and echoes across the space between us. The wind howls, carrying my rage to her, churning up loose grass and dying leaves that swirl around her on the porch.

Her head whips in my direction, her eyes widening even more as I step out from between the trees and into the moonlight.

It glints off the raised axe head, and her gaze darts to my constant companion.

She retreats, and her heel catches between two of the porch boards. “Shit!”

Stumbling to one knee, she reaches a shaky hand to attempt to free it as I advance toward the house, long strides eating up the ground quickly.

Grass gives way under my boots.

Leaves crunch.

My chest heaves with each sharp inhalation of crisp, chilly night air, but it doesn’t help ease the heat of ire boiling my blood.

The woman tugs at her shoe, frantically trying to free it from the small gap it’s wedged in, then glances up to gauge my approach. She scrambles away, kicking off the other heel, scanning around her like she’s looking for any means of escape. But now I’m almost at the car, and there’s no way she’s getting to it before I do.

I issue another deep warning growl as she continues to clamber backward across the porch. She makes it to the far end, the hip-high hand-hewn log railing preventing her from retreating any farther.

Panic wells in her eyes, along with glistening tears.

They won’t stop me, sweetheart.

Whatever crazy notion brought her up this mountain, she’s going to regret ever having it.

I climb the stairs one at a time slowly, keeping my gaze locked on hers.

Her shoulders press against the railing, with the rest of her body spread across the worn boards. Moonlight streams from behind her and to the left, highlighting half of her face.

Her dewy, flawless skin.

Her quivering, too-red lips that match the ridiculous shoes.

The wide jade doe eyes that rival those of the deer I usually shoot in this forest.

That innocent look and the silent plea have never stopped me before, and it isn’t about to tonight. She determined her fate the moment she turned up Barker Mountain.

Stopping a few steps from her bare feet, I scan the interloper from the honey curls surrounding her face, down over the swell of her breasts peeking out from the plunging neckline of her skin-tight black dress, then to that high hemline and the miles of skin down to her painted toes.

Something other than fury stirs deep inside me for the first time in more years than I can count, but I push it back where it belongs, buried deep in one more expertly dug grave with the rest of the things that only cause more problems and frustrations.

I flex my hand around the axe at my side, the familiar feel of the handle and its weight helping to ground me and preventing me from taking action before I get the answers I need from this woman. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I—” She opens and closes her mouth. “I—”

Her body shakes so badly that she struggles to get her feet under her to stand upright, gripping the railing behind her to keep herself stable. Head whipping side to side, she desperately searches for an escape route that doesn’t exist.

The house on one side.

Me in front.

Railing behind her and blocking her way to the car.

She’s hemmed in.

Trapped.

Advancing another step, I raise my axe, the sharp blade now clearly visible to her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

My question hangs in the cool night air, filling the little space between us, and I move closer, the porch boards creaking under my weight.

The trespasser squawks and turns around, throwing her leg over the railing at a speed I hadn’t anticipated.

What the hell?

Her sudden movement stalls me in place for a moment, and she tumbles down on the other side of the beams, landing on her ass in the muddy grass next to the house.

I charge across the porch toward where she just climbed over, and she manages to scramble to her feet, quickly scanning around her. Her emerald eyes land on her car, but all it will take is one leap over this railing for me to intercept her if she flees that way.

And she knows it.

The wheels churn behind her frenzied gaze as she tries to work out any sort of plan.

I’ve seen that look before.

Many times.

On countless faces.

Right before they paid the price…

She glances down at her bare feet, then at the surrounding woods, muttering something I can’t quite hear under her breath before she takes off toward them.

Fucking hell.

Whoever she is, she’s made a big mistake coming here and an even bigger one going out there.

Clenching the axe in one hand, I grab the edge of the railing and vault over it, landing my boots with a thud in the exact spot she just stood. The little nuisance I certainly don’t have the time or patience for disappears between the trees, heading deeper into dense foliage and rough terrain.

I peer back at her heels haphazardly strewn on the porch, one stiletto still wedged in the thin slot between the boards.

She isn’t getting far barefoot out there—not unless she has a strong fucking will and very thick skin. Which seems unlikely, given the way she looks and her reaction to me.

This should be easy, then.

The hunter in me sneers in dissatisfaction at not getting a real chase, for not being offered a challenge, but the sooner I can get this woman off the mountain, the better it will be for both of us.

But I have to know who she is and why she came here first.

Who sent you, little doe?

I take off after her, stepping between the trees that bracketed her flight, easily following her path, even in the almost complete darkness created by the high canopy blocking out the moonlight.

Every branch.

Every leaf.

Every fallen log.

I know these woods and this mountain better than I know myself, and this woman clearly has no fucking idea what she’s doing or who she’s tangling with.

Each step she takes on the forest floor littered with twigs and leaves might as well be a cannon going off through the quiet night.

I pause a moment and listen.

A branch cracks to my left, and I wheel toward it, storming through the trees, brushing aside the branches that cut and pull at my exposed skin.

The chilly air and sharp bites of pain only feed my anger.

Who the fuck woulddare come onto the mountain?

Someone with a death wish, clearly.

It’s the only logical explanation for why this young woman would come up here, dressed like that, and knock on my damn door like she’s an invited guest.

I don’t do guests.

I don’t do people.

For very good reasons—ones that don’t simply vanish because a beautiful woman shows up.

I climb over a fallen log, following rustling leaves and breaking sticks on the forest floor. Her muttered curses fill my ears as her feet are no doubt scraped and cut on every rock and twig under them.

Stopping, I hold my breath and wait for her to move again.

A few seconds tick by. A minute draws out to two.

I shift my axe into my other hand, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t know where you think you’re running, but you aren’t going to make it far.”

My voice carries through the dense trees, bouncing off thick trunks, the only sound until her sharp intake of breath draws my attention to the right.

She’s moving in a circle.

Probably trying to make her way back to the car.

The corner of my mouth curves up despite my willing it not to. “Clever little doe…”

Smart, maybe smarter than I gave her credit for…

But it doesn’t mean she’s going to survive these woods or my questioning when I get my hands on her. Her motives, her purpose in coming here, must be exposed.

I wield the axe now, cutting a path through the thicker foliage, chopping back branches that slow my advance, kicking away logs, barreling toward the sound of her rushed footsteps.

Her whimper of fear and pain floats to me on the breeze.

It should give me pause, should make me want to assure her that she’s all right, but that would be a lie.

Coming up here sealed her fate.

A loud crash sounds ahead of me, and I take three long strides, smashing my way through a thicket to find her sprawled on her back, clutching her right foot, a large gash across the bottom of it near the arch.

Tears stream down her cheeks as she stares up at me, scrambling backward on her elbows and ass, her dress torn and frayed. The ripped hem moves up and up the farther she retreats, exposing even more cuts and scrapes covering her long, bare legs.

“P-p-please, don’t hurt me…” She holds up a trembling hand, like that’s going to do anything to protect her. “Please!”

Clearly, this woman doesn’t know me.

Already towering above her, I raise my weapon, ensuring she’ll see the gleam of the blade in the thin sliver of moonlight filtering down on us. “Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing here?”

“I…I…”

Her red lips open and close a few times, and she continues to crawl back as I advance. The meager efforts get her nowhere compared to my long strides, and I loom over her, finally able to see how truly small, fragile, and terrified she really is.

I reach down and grasp her wrist, tugging her up toward me, her face mere inches from mine. The scent of her fear mingles with a sweet honey fragrance that matches the color of her hair. “Answer my fucking questions.”

Those pretty, plump lips quiver, and her eyes roll up into the back of her head.

She sags, her entire weight gone limp.

Fucking hell.

I lower her down, settling her head gently against the forest floor, then use my free hand to check her pulse.

Still strong.

She just passed out.

Whoever the hell she is, she has no idea the trouble she’s just gotten herself into…this beautiful woman on my mountain.

I would say there are worse things that could happen to someone, but I can’t think of one.