Entangled with a Mountain Man (Silver Ridge Mountain Men)

1. Crushed Hopes

1

CRUSHED HOPES

KENZIE

“Silver Ridge, Montana, y’all got thirty minutes, and we’re on to the next stop,” the driver’s voice competes with the groaning brakes as the bus rumbles to a stop.

I twist in my seat and let my eyes pass over the snowcapped mountains in the distance. My heart leaps into my throat. My new home.

I clutch the handle of my duffel bag, the faded canvas worn from all my running. But not this time. This time, I'm planting roots—a new life, free from the ghosts of my past.

The doors hiss open, and I step out into the crisp mountain air, filling my lungs with the scent of pine and possibility. The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the little bus station, and I spin around with a smile .

This place looks just like the pictures I saw on the internet. Well, not the bus station, but the view outside. And it just feels... right .

A few steps away, the quaint downtown stretches before me—a cluster of rustic storefronts and a café lining a main street that looks plucked straight out of a Hallmark movie. The Rocky Mountains rise in the distance, their snowcapped peaks glittering like diamonds against the azure sky.

"Lord, I could get used to this view," I murmur, drinking in the scenery.

My boots crunch on the gravel as I walk toward the benches, already picturing myself settled here with a good book and a hot chocolate from that cozy-looking café across the street. A fresh start means new routines, new?—

"You're such a crybaby!"

A shrill voice shatters my daydream. I spin toward the sound to find two little girls—twins from the looks of it—in a heated argument by the station's entrance. One has her hands planted firmly on her hips while the other crosses her arms in defiance.

"Am not! You started it by taking my book!"

"Only 'cause you took Tata first!"

I chuckle, looking around for an adult. Still, when I don’t see one heading in their direction, I decide to mediate the situation while waiting for my ride .

"My Meme used to say, ‘family business is family business.’ She’d turn up her nose at two beautiful young ladies cuttin’ up in mixed company.” I scan around, and they do, too.

The identical looks of surprise on their faces have me holding back a chuckle. But what they don’t know is I learned from the best. Meme could quiet a riot with a soft, even tone that left no room for questioning who was in charge.

I shift my gaze between them, taking in their matching outfits and the glint of little diamond studs. Their mother dressed them carefully, and she must be around here somewhere.

I step closer, lowering my tone. “I think we can handle this like, ladies. No name-calling and using our inside voices. What do you say?"

“Yes, ma’am,” they groan.

They’re adorable, and they have manners. For a moment, I'm struck by how much they remind me of Kendrick and me at that age—always at each other's throats but thick as thieves when it counted.

"She started it!" they chorus, pointing accusingly at each other.

I laugh. The sound is rich and genuine. "Oh, I see how it is. Well, as the resident twin expert, I think I might be able to help sort this out."

The taller of the two—the one clutching a well-worn book to her chest—eyes me suspiciously. "How are you a twin expert?"

"'Cause I've got a twin brother of my own," I explain, crouching down to their level. "And let me tell you, we used to fight like cats and dogs."

"Really?" The other girl's eyes widen with interest. "Did you take each other's stuff too?"

"Unfortunately, yes, sweetie, all the time," I grin, remembering the countless squabbles Kendrick and I had over the years. "But you know what? At the end of the day, we always had each other's backs. That's what being a twin is all about."

The girls exchange a look, some of the tension easing from their small frames.

"I'm Kenzie," I offer, holding out my hand. "And you two cuties are...?"

"I'm Harper," the book-holder says, tentatively shaking my hand. "And that's Hazel."

Hazel, still eyeing me warily, asks, "Are you new here? I've never seen you before."

I nod, rising to my full height. "Just got off the bus. Silver Ridge is gonna be my new home."

"Really?" Harper's face lights up. "That's so cool! We’ve never met another twin before. Right, Hazel?”

Hazel nods. “And your eyes are like ours.”

I laugh, noticing that, too. “My Meme said I have my great-great grandfather’s hazel eyes. The kids used to call me cat eyes. I hated it.”

They smile, stepping closer, and it feels like I’ve made a couple of new buddies in town. They don’t have to know this is part of my mediation process. Even though Hazel is correct, Harper and I have similar eye colors. She has one blue and one hazel.

They are truly striking. They’ll give their parents a run for their money when they’re teenagers.

“It seems we have a lot in common.”

“Where are you gonna live? Do you have a job? Oh! Are you gonna work at the diner? They make the best milkshakes and?—"

"Whoa there, Hazel," I laugh, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "One question at a time! How about we start with you two telling me why you're fighting over..." I glance at the book in Harper's arms, "...what looks like a very well-loved copy of 'Charlotte's Web'?"

Hazel huffs, crossing her arms tighter. "She took it even though it's my turn to read it!"

"Nu-uh!" Harper protests. "You said I could have it after you finished chapter three, and I saw you put it down, so?—"

"One at a time," I interject, my voice gentle but firm. "Let's take a breath, okay? Fighting over a book isn't gonna solve anything."

They fall silent, twin expressions of guilt crossing their faces.

"Now," I continue, settling onto a nearby bench and patting the spots beside me. "Why don't you tell me what's really going on? 'Cause something tells me this isn't just about a book."

Harper is the first to cave, plopping beside me with a heavy sigh. "It's Dad…”

“He works all the time,” Hazel chimes in, joining us on the bench.

My heart aches for these girls. I know all too well what it's like to feel forgotten by the people who are supposed to love you most.

"Oh, sweethearts," I say softly, wrapping an arm around them. "I'm sure your daddy cares about you more than anything. Sometimes adults have a hard time showing their feelings."

"But why?" Hazel’s voice is so small and fragile that it wiggles into my heart. "Why can't he just be happy with us?"

I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "When I was about your age, my mamma worked all the time, too. Kendrick and I—that's my twin brother—we used to think she didn't love us anymore."

"What happened?" Harper asks, leaning into me.

"Well, one day, I got up the courage to ask her why she was always gone," I explain, the memory bittersweet. " And you know what she told me? She said everything she did, all the long hours and missed dinners, was all for us. Because she loved us so much, she wanted to give us the best life possible."

I leave the truth of that moment hidden deep in my heart. Because it’s clear their life is nothing like mine. My mother was MIA, and if it weren't for Meme, we would have been parentless and loveless.

"You think that's why our dad works so much?" Hazel's brow furrows.

I nod, giving them both a squeeze, hoping I’m right. "I'd bet my last dollar on it. Your daddy loves you girls something fierce, even if he's not the best at showing it right now."

A comfortable silence falls over us, the girls seeming to mull over my words. I find myself studying their faces, marveling at the mix of features that make them uniquely themselves. Their warm caramel skin is a shade or two lighter than mine, and their curly hair—Harper's in two puffs, Hazel's in a single poof—reminds me of the styles my Meme used to do for me.

"You know what I think?" I say finally, my voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "I think you two are pretty darn lucky."

"We are?" They chorus, identical looks of confusion on their faces.

"Mhmm," I nod sagely. "Not everyone gets a built-in best friend for life. Sure, you might drive each other crazy sometimes, but at the end of the day, you've always got someone in your corner."

Harper and Hazel exchange a look, something unspoken passing between them. Then, to my surprise, they both lean in and wrap their arms around me in a tight hug.

"Thank you, Miss Kenzie," Harper mumbles into my shirt. "You're really nice."

“And pretty,” Hazel adds.

I feel my eyes start to sting, and I blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Lord, when was the last time someone hugged me like this? Like I mattered? Maybe a year?

"Anytime, sweethearts," I manage, my voice a little thicker than usual. "Us twins gotta stick together, right?"

The rumble of an engine cuts through our moment. A sleek black pickup pulls into the parking lot, its tires crunching on the gravel.

"That's our dad!" Hazel exclaims, hopping off the bench.

I watch as a tall, broad-shouldered man steps out of the truck. Even from a distance, he’s a head turner. I sense an aura of quiet strength about him.

His face is stern as he scans the area, but it softens slightly when his eyes land on the girls .

"Hazel? Harper?" His deep voice carries across the lot. "I told y’all to stay put."

“Yes, sir,” they groan, their gazes dropping.

"We just wanted to stretch our legs," Harper’s head pops up. "We made a new friend!"

The man's gaze shifts to me, and I feel the full weight of his assessing look. It's not unkind, exactly, but there's a wariness there that has my stomach flip-flopping.

As he approaches, I stand, smoothing down my jeans and hoping I don't look as travel worn as I feel.

"Everything all right here?" he asks, his eyes never leaving my face.

"Yes, sir," I reply, offering a friendly grin. "Just having a little chat with your girls. They're quite the pair."

His lips twitch, almost like he wants to smile but can't quite remember how. "That they are," he agrees, extending a hand. "Everett Logan."

"Mackenzie Duncan. But people call me Kenzie," I say, shaking his hand firmly. His palm is rough with calluses, and I can't help but notice how my hand seems to disappear in his larger one. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Logan."

"Everett," he corrects, dropping my hand. "Mr. Logan is my father."

I nod, fighting the urge to fidget under his intense gaze. Something about this man has me feeling off-balance, and I don't like it.

"You're new in town."

It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Just got off the bus. I'm supposed to meet a friend, but…”

The sound of a car stopping nearby distracts me. We all look toward the sound as a sleek black Mercedes pulls up to the curb, far too fancy for this rustic little town.

My breath catches in my throat as the driver's side door opens, and a man steps out—a man I'd know anywhere, even after all these years. His dark hair is shorter, and his jawline is more chiseled. He hasn’t changed one bit.

"Ian," I whisper, half in awe and half in dread. I boarded the bus at his urging, but I’m still not sure he’s the man I befriended through letters.

"Kenzie!" A brilliant smile stretches across his face as he catches sight of me. "Damn, girl, you look good as fuck!"

“Language, Ian,” Everett barks.

“Man, chill out.” Ian strides toward me, arms outstretched in welcome—or is it possession? A shiver runs through me, part anticipation and part warning prickle.

I'm vaguely aware of Everett tensing beside me, his posture shifting slightly. It's almost like he's... positioning himself between Ian and the girls. But before I can dwell on it, Ian reaches us.

"God, I've missed you," he breathes, pulling me into a crushing hug.

I go rigid in his arms, unable to reciprocate. This isn't right. This isn't how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to have a quiet reunion, a chance to reconnect after all those months of letters and phone calls. Not... whatever this is.

"Ian, I..." My voice is barely above a whisper, but he doesn't seem to notice my discomfort.

"Missed this," he murmurs, and before I can react, his lips crash into mine with a desperation that steals my breath away.

It's harsh and demanding, unlike the gentle first kisses I'd imagined sharing with him so many times. My hands fly to his chest, pushing him away as I gasp for air.

"What the hell?" I croak out, panic and shame roiling through me in equal measure.

"You lying, cheating bastard!"

A collective gasp passes over the bus station, and suddenly, the small-town hustle stops.

I turn to the voice and see a woman standing near the Benz, hands planted on her hips and eyes blazing with fury... Her model-like beauty could grace the cover of any magazine.

"Paige, baby, calm down." Ian holds up his hands placatingly, but there's no mistaking the panic in his eyes now.

"You told me she was just a friend, someone from your past! You never said?—"

The woman shrieks, her voice slicing through my shocked silence.

"It's not what it looks like, I swear!" He moves closer to her, and I take a step back.

"Not what it looks like? Like your tongue wasn’t down her throat?" She lets out a harsh laugh, her glare swinging back to me. "Is this why you've been so distracted lately? Working late, my ass! You've been carrying on with this... this bitch behind my back!"

“Bitch? Look, I don’t—” I start to explain, and I think about the girls.

My face flames with humiliation. This can't be happening, not here, not in front of Harper and Hazel and their father?—

Their father .

Oh Lord, I turn to look at Everett, half-expecting to see disgust and judgment written across his chiseled features.

What I find is... worse, somehow.

His expression is carefully blank, that earlier wariness now shuttered behind an impassive mask. But his eyes... those eyes bore into me with such disdain that I want to shrivel up and disappear.

"Dad?" Harper's trembling voice shatters the awful silence. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, honey," Everett says, his deep voice gentler than I expected. "Why don't you and Hazel wait in the truck? I'll be there in a minute."

The girls hesitate, clearly torn between curiosity and obedience. But one stern look from their father has them hurrying off toward the pickup.

As soon as they're out of earshot, Paige rounds on me, her face contorted with rage. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Like you can just waltz into our town and steal my husband?"

Husband? I cringe at her words.

"I’m sorry. But…," I stammer, hating how small and pathetic I sound. "He never told me he was married."

"Oh, please," Paige scoffs, her laugh bitter and cutting. "Like I'd believe anything that comes out of your lying mouth. That you didn’t board a fucking bus to try to steal my man!"

Her words echo through the bus station, and I'm acutely aware of every eye fixed on us. Whispers ripple through the small crowd gathered, and I want nothing more than to disappear into thin air.

"Paige, stop. This ain’t the place or time," Ian pleads, reaching for her arm.

She wrenches away from him, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't you dare touch me! I trusted you! And you keep breaking my fucking heart!"

I stand, frozen, as their argument escalates. My mind races, trying to make sense of this nightmare. How could I have been so stupid? So naive? I'd thought Ian was my fresh start, my chance at happiness. Now, it's all crumbling around me.

"And you," Paige spits, turning back to me. "I hope you're happy with yourself. You've ruined everything!"

“That’s enough, Paige,” Everett steps forward, stopping whatever she planned to hurl in my direction.

I shake my head, tears pricking at my eyes. "I swear, I had no idea. I’d never… If I'd known?—"

"Save it," she snarls.

“Get her outta here, Ian, or I’ll help you.”

Ian grabs Paige's arm. "We're leaving. Now ."

He starts dragging her toward the exit, but she twists in his grip, hurling one last barb my way. "Don't think this is over, you homewrecking whore! You'll pay for this!"

And then they're gone, leaving nothing but shocked silence in their wake.

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold it together. But inside, I'm falling apart. How did everything go so wrong so fast? Just minutes ago, I was full of hope for my new life in Silver Ridge. Now, I'm the town thot before I've even unpacked my bags.

A throat clears beside me, and I turn to find Everett still standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Everett, I—" I start, but he cuts me off with a raised hand.

"Save it," he says, his voice gruff. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Miss Duncan, but I suggest you take it elsewhere. We don't need that kind of drama in Silver Ridge."

His words hit me like a physical blow, and I struggle to find my voice. "It's not... I didn't..."

But he's already turning away, striding toward his truck where the twins are waiting. I watch as he climbs inside, his movements gentle despite the hardness in his eyes when he glances back at me.

As the pickup pulls away, I'm left alone in the middle of the bus station. The silence that follows is deafening. I can feel the weight of everyone's stares, their judgment crushing me like a physical force.

My heart aches with a mixture of guilt, sorrow, and anger.

How did I end up here, caught in the middle of their toxic relationship? And who does Everett think he is, judging me without knowing the whole story?

I wrap my arms tighter around myself, trying to summon the strength that's gotten me through tough times. But right now, I'm struggling to find it.

"Lord, give me strength," I mutter under my breath, a habit picked up from my grandma that surfaces in times of stress.

What am I supposed to do now? I have no job, no place to stay, and I’m in fucking Montana. Nearly two-thousand miles from Detroit, and I don’t know anyone in this damn town—except Ian. The urge to flee is overwhelming.

I could get on the next bus and forget this whole disastrous idea.

But where would I go?

I've burned all my bridges back home and spent every last penny getting here. Silver Ridge was supposed to be my fresh start, my chance to build a new life.

Now it feels like I'm right back where I started – alone, with nothing but the clothes on my back and a reputation in tatters.

I take a deep breath and scan the area for a Plan B. I refuse to let Ian and his lies destroy everything I've worked for. I've survived worse than this, and I'll be damned if I let some small-town drama run me out before I've even had a chance.

I march to the station's information desk, where an older woman is eyeing me .

"Good afternoon, ma'am," I say, injecting warmth into my voice. "I was wondering if you could point me toward a place to stay. Preferably somewhere... affordable ."

The woman's expression softens slightly at my polite tone, but I can still see the wariness in her eyes. "Well, there's the Whispering Pines Inn just down the street, but it can be a bit pricey. You might try asking around at some local businesses for something more budget-friendly. Sometimes, they know of rooms for rent."

I nod, grateful for even this small bit of help. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

As I turn to leave, the woman's voice stops me. "Miss?" I look back, and I read the warning of her expression. "You might want to be careful. Silver Ridge is a small town. News travels fast."

I swallow hard, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

Gathering what's left of my dignity, I hoist my duffel bag onto my shoulder and step out of the bus station. The town that had seemed so welcoming just an hour ago now feels sketchy, like everyone’s watching my every move.

Then I see the sun setting, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink, just like the pictures I saved on my phone. It should be beautiful, but I can only think about how I have no idea where I will sleep tonight.

As I stand, lost and alone, it feels like coming to Silver Ridge was the biggest mistake of my life. But I've come too far to give up now.

Somehow, I gotta make this work.