Mountain Man’s Angel (Loners of Wolfe Mountain #3)

Chapter 1

THANE

The squirrels and chipmunks chatter in the trees above me as I trudge along. Birds flit from branch to branch, then swoop off to perch just over my head, studying me.

Why does Mom worry about me being alone? I'm constantly surrounded by wildlife.

I set the log down, leaning it against another tree. Then I pull off my shirt, fold it up, and drape it over my shoulder and neck before picking up the log again.

Ahhh.

That's better. Tough as I am, I don’t enjoy bark digging into the side of my neck.

It would have been easier if I’d asked one of my brothers to help, but I would only bother them in a real emergency. I help others, I don’t ask others to help me. It’s just how I am.

The axe clipped to my belt swings on my hip as I keep plodding through the forest. Even though I know this area like the back of my hand, it's always changing. I love that. Today, for example, there’s a light dusting of fresh pine needles and leaves on the trails from last night's wind.

A light breeze rustles the leaves and makes huge dark clouds scud across the sky, shifting them to create first dappled sunlight, then strong shadows.

I keep walking toward the house, minding my footing while also noting the birds. The path comes within twenty feet of a large clearing, and I slow down to glance at the small meadow that edges the road…

And then my feet stop moving, and my heart pounds in my chest.

The clouds have parted, allowing a sunbeam to spotlight a figure in the center of the meadow. She's blonde, wearing a loose, light gray dress that looks more like a nightgown, and holding something out to the tree line.

Honestly, am I hallucinating?

Her body sways slightly, as if to an unheard song. Oh – she's wearing headphones. As I slowly come closer, my gaze is riveted to her figure. The sun is beaming straight through her dress, revealing the curvy, seductive silhouette underneath.

I'm a terrible man for not looking away, but I've never felt this kind of magnetic pull toward a woman before. It's intoxicating. I need to be careful not to frighten her.

I step into the clearing, the huge log still on my shoulder. "Hello, miss?"

She turns around, pulling off her headphones. I stop a good thirty feet away and set the end of the log on the ground. "Hey," she mutters.

I make no move to approach, even though the more I drink in her beauty, the more I want to run to her and pull her into my arms to shelter her from the breeze picking up around us.

"Just thought I’d say hello, since you're on my land."

She whips her head side to side, looking left and right. "Oh. I thought…"

"Hey, it's fine. I don't mind. Is it okay if I ask what you're doing out here?"

Her perfect lips curve into a smile that lights up her warm brown eyes as she relaxes. "Recording nature sounds." Her voice is light and airy. Ethereal.

I look down to see an open shoulder bag with a few black boxes all wired together. “That's some serious looking gear."

She smiles proudly. "Of course. Quality is everything."

Then she notices the way I'm glancing at the incoming clouds. "It's not going to rain yet, is it?"

"Not for at least an hour, but the wind's picking up. Gonna blow grit into your equipment." I nod to the road. "Lots of sand over that gravel."

"Oh." Her shoulders droop a bit. "I was hoping to get more tracks before it got dark. But I'll get off your land now."

I shrug. "Do you need recordings of a woodpecker?"

Her eyes sparkle. "That would be great."

"Got a family of them in the back yard. I'm heading home to make lunch. Care to join me?"

I hope that sounded nice and casual. I'm not accustomed to young ladies.

She hesitates, so I take one step forward, extending my hand. "Thane Wolfe. A pleasure to meet you.” Her body language relaxes when she hears my name, and she steps forward to clasp my hand.

It’s hard to keep my expression neutral as our skin touches. Her delicate hand in mine sends an electric pulse through my entire chest. Of course I'm attracted to her, but it's more than that. I want…no, more than want, need…to care for her. Protect her.

"Audra Barclay. Part-time trespasser.”

I chuckle as her light laugh fills the air around us.

She packs up her equipment with almost military efficiency.

It's not until I adjust the folded t-shirt over my shoulder and neck that I realize I'm standing in front of her shirtless.

Well, too late now. I hoist the log back up, then turn toward the house.

Audra goes to lift her gear bag, but I take it and sling it on my other shoulder. "This way."

We're close enough now that I can take a proper look at her eyes. Such a warm, golden brown, like caramel melting in the sun. Plus full, rosebud lips that send a signal to certain parts of my anatomy I've ignored for a long time.

This beautiful young woman lights me up on the inside in a way that's completely new. Asking a perfect stranger to come to my home? I've never done that before. Maybe it's good that I don't have a free arm: the urge to reach for her is overwhelming.

Audra smiles, then walks behind me as the path narrows. "Thank you," she says sweetly. "I've never had lunch with a lumberjack before. This is a whole new level of deep forest authenticity.”

Dammit. I'm a woodworker, not a lumberjack. Not even that, really.

And is there anything truly “authentic” about being born to a rich mountain family and becoming a woodworker simply because you enjoy it?