Chapter 28
M ac stood outside the lodge, hands shoved deep in his pockets, watching Tara pull up the bumpy road in the four-wheel-drive truck he'd given her when she had Jetter.
He'd gifted her the truck for the sole purpose of having a reliable vehicle that would make it up the mountain three seasons out of the year and keep his baby safe.
Inside the lodge, Jetter was saying his goodbyes to Beckett, Cord, and Avaline, dragging it out like he always did when he didn't want to leave the campground.
Mac figured the delay was fine, considering he needed a minute with Tara before his son came out.
Tara stepped out of the driver's seat, sunglasses perched on her head, hair pulled back in a ponytail, still wearing the green with little flowers scrubs she wore to her job as a dental hygienist. "Where's Jetter?"
"He's saying goodbye to his cousins," Mac said. "I wanted to talk to you before he comes out."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What happened? Is he okay?"
"Yeah. He's fine."
Tara put her hand on her chest and exhaled in relief. "Sorry. It's been a long summer without him."
He empathized because he felt the same way during the winter when Jetter was off the mountain, and he wasn't there to protect him, despite knowing Tara was more than capable of taking care of his safety and well-being.
It was always hard to give up that control when the person you loved was out of sight.
"I'll make this short." He cleared his throat. "I'd like some more time with Jetter this winter if we can work it out. Maybe a weekend here and there, if nothing is planned during his school breaks, he could come spend a couple of days with me."
Tara crossed her arms, studying him. "You gonna come off the mountain to get him?"
Mac nodded without hesitation. "Yeah."
"Really?" That seemed to surprise her.
"I'd do anything for my boy."
"I know you would." She exhaled, her posture softening slightly.
"He's getting older. Jetter needs his dad around more than just in the summer.
" She gave a small, knowing smile. "I'm not surprised you're asking, if I'm honest. He practically begs to come up here every chance he gets.
In that respect, he's a lot like you. The mountain calls to him. "
Mac's mouth twitched. "So...?"
She tilted her head. "You're really going to come off the mountain to pick him up?"
Until this summer, he had no plans to leave during the winter. But if it came down to seeing his son more or waiting until next summer to see him, he'd do it.
"I'll come get him." His answer came out rougher than he intended.
"Okay." She nodded with approval. "We'll make it work."
The lodge door swung open, and Jetter came bounding out, backpack slung over one shoulder. "Mom, did Dad talk to you? Can I spend more time here?"
Tara grabbed him, hugging him tight. "Slow down and ask me how I've been?"
Jetter grinned. "How are you?"
"I'm good." Tara kissed Jetter's forehead. "You stink."
Jetter laughed. "Did Dad talk to you?"
Tara met Mac's gaze and nodded, permitting him to tell their son. He inhaled deeply, some of the tightness he'd carried lately easing.
He crouched down to his son's level, looking him in the eyes. "You'll be coming up more this winter. Weekends. School breaks. But if your mom has things you have to do, you mind her. Just know we'll work it all out, okay?"
Jetter's face lit up like sunrise. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
The boy threw his arms around Mac's neck, squeezing hard. "Best news ever."
The ease of co-parenting with Tara made the goodbye easier. Not easy, but easier. Mac promised he'd come pick his son up in town next time, and Jetter grinned like that was half the fun.
He watched them drive away, the dust from the tires hanging in the air longer than he liked. It was dry. They needed some rain.
When he turned back toward the lodge, Beckett and Cord stepped out of the building. He wasn't in the mood to explain himself to his cousins. He'd had all summer to get used to having Jetter in his life. It wasn't easy to see him leave. In fact, it sucked.
He walked to his motorcycle, needing to get away and get his head on straight.
"Where are you headed?" Cord asked.
Mac swung a leg over his bike. "Gonna take a ride."
"Where to?" Beckett said.
Mac met his cousin's gaze. "Far enough away to lose my problems."
Cord leaned against the doorframe. "Let us know how that works for you, cuz."
Mac brought the engine to life and let the sound drown out any more questions. They could handle the campground for a few hours.
Mac took the back trail, the one they kept chained off from the public.
The terrain was too steep, too narrow, and too easy to lose your footing if you didn't know the mountain like he did.
The bike growled beneath him as he navigated the single track, chewing up the switchbacks until the trees thinned and the deep blue lake came into view far below.
The air thickened. He looked up at the clouds. With the chaos of Jetter leaving, he hadn't paid attention to the weather.
He killed the engine and let the quiet settle over him.
Only the wind moving through the pines broke through the silence.
Up here, he could see everything his cousins and he owned.
The lodge, the lake, the docks, the thin ribbon of road curling down toward town.
It was the kind of view that made you feel like you were standing outside the world, looking in.
To this day, it always amazed him that his grandpa had bought the land and carved a campground out of it without leaving a mark on the earth. If everyone left, in ten years, there would be no sign of anyone ever recreating here. It'd all go back to forestry land.
Grandpa Callahan had done all of it while finding the love of his life, having kids, and living a full life.
He and the others would make sure to carry on his legacy by protecting what belonged to Mother Nature.
A rumble of thunder rolled in from the west. He glanced at the sky. The dark clouds were stacking fast. Late summer storms were always the worst with the fire season at its peak. The wind shifted, cooler now, carrying the sharp scent of rain.
By the time the first fat drops hit, he was already moving, guiding the bike toward a shallow overhang of rock he knew from years of wandering these slopes.
Lightning split the sky, close enough to make the air crackle, and the rain came hard, drumming down on his shoulders, soaking through his flannel before he could duck under the ledge.
He sat there, watching the storm tear across the lake, hoping Tara had gotten Jetter down the mountain before it hit. She was smart, careful. But still, the thought of them on the road in this weather made his gut tighten.
The thunder rolled again, and his mind drifted to Lauren.
Where was she? What was she doing? Had she even thought about him since she left?
All these days without her, he tried to convince himself it didn't matter what she was doing, but the truth was, storms had a way of shaking things loose inside him.
He leaned back against the cold rock, listening to the rain pounding the earth, and waited for the lightning to pass.
The rain bounced off his boots and pooled in the dirt at his feet. Mac sat with his back against the cold stone, watching the storm tear across the lake far below. Lightning flared, followed by the deep roll of thunder that seemed to shake the mountain, showing him who was really in control.
Jetter would've loved to experience the storm. His son had learned to respect Mother Nature. Out in the open with the winds, the thunder, and the lightning, it was hard not to be in awe of such a force.
He ran his hands over his face, drying the wetness. The first time he was with Lauren was during a storm. She wasn't afraid of him or the thunder.
He'd been wrong about her from the start.
Going by how she dressed and looked, he assumed Lauren would hate getting dirty and would tire of living off-grid.
But she adapted and had come prepared with all her batteries and chargers to keep her equipment working.
She was eager to learn and never shied away from anything they suggested.
With the storm hemming him in, he realized something.
If he was willing to drive down the mountain for Jetter—make the drive, rearrange his life to spend more time with his boy—then he could damn well make the trip to see Lauren.
If she wasn't interested, fine. He'd leave her be. But if she wanted to try, if she was willing to meet him halfway, then he could do the same. As long as she understood that his life, his roots, were here. On this mountain.
The decision to try to contact Lauren spurred him forward. He was eager to see her, talk to her again.
Now he just needed the storm to pass.
He waited, listening as the thunder moved farther east, the lightning flashing less often. The rain softened to occasional drips, then to nothing, while the pine trees continued to shed the storm down on him.
Mac swung a leg over the bike, started the engine, and rode down the trail. The wet earth clung to his tires, the air cleaner after the downpour. It was the best smell in the world.
He'd need to talk to Cord and Beckett, figure out when he could take a day without leaving them short-handed. Avaline would have Lauren's information from her registration.
Missoula was only two hours away. He could make it there and back in a day.
The thought of leaving the mountain didn't fill him with dread. He looked forward to the trip.
It felt like he was going to find a piece of him that had gone missing.