Protector of Misty Mountain
1. Griff
CHAPTER 1
GRIFF
I hated driving into town. That’s why I limited my trips to once a month, twice if I really fucked up and needed something that couldn’t wait. Even with a population of twenty-five hundred, Misty Mountain was too crowded for me. I was much more comfortable on my own, living in my cabin at the top of the mountain where the only conversation I had to listen to was between the howling wolves at night.
If it weren’t for the custom survival gear orders that I dropped off at the general store every month, I might not ever have to venture into town. That would be heaven. Maybe one of these days I’d find someone I could trust that could deliver my supplies and pick up outgoing orders. Until then, I’d continue to drive down the mountain once a month, complain about it the whole time, and try to keep to myself.
“Hey, Griff.” Jack lifted his chin in acknowledgment as I entered the front door of the Misty Mountain General Store.
“Hey.” My voice came out rough. Not much of a surprise. I’d barely spoken out loud since the last time I saw him about a month ago.
“I’ve got your order packed and ready to go. Just give me a minute to finish ringing this up.” He turned his attention back to an older woman standing at the counter while I waited.
“What were we talking about?” The woman leaned toward Jack. I didn’t know her by name, but I recognized her. She and her sister had come up the mountain a few years ago and tried to get me to donate some of the gear I made for a fundraiser to redo the park. I didn’t mind helping and gave them a couple of knives to auction off. But after that, I put up a handful of “No Trespassing” signs and hadn’t been bothered since.
“You said something about Caleb Blake’s old place, Mrs. Mackey.” Jack continued to scan her groceries, obviously used to making small talk.
“That’s right. His niece is in town.” Mrs. Mackey put her hand to her chest and lowered her voice like she was divulging classified information, not trying to fan the fires of a small-town gossip mill.
Pretending to study a selection of hand-poured candles from some local artist, I took a step toward the counter. Caleb had been my nearest neighbor and the closest thing I’d had to a friend in all the years I’d lived on the mountain. His death a few months ago had hit hard.
“I heard his place was tied up in probate,” Jack said. “Is it going on the market?”
“No, that’s just it,”—Mrs. Mackey slapped her hands down on the counter— “she’s moving in.”
The candle slid out of my hand and hit the floor with a sharp crack. Dammit. So much for keeping a low profile.
Mrs. Mackey turned my way, her gaze flying from my face to the mess at my feet and back up again. “Do you know something about this, Griffin?”
“No, uh, just surprised is all.” I cleared my throat, trying to chase away the frog that had taken up permanent residence.
Jack grabbed a broom and dustpan, then rounded the counter. “Caleb kept to himself. I didn’t even know he had family.”
“Let me.” I took the broom and swept the glass into a small pile, hoping Mrs. Mackey would keep talking.
“There’s probably a lot about him we didn’t know,” she said. “And the way he died, that poor man. All alone up there on that mountain. God rest his soul.”
I ignored the way the hair on the back of my neck bristled. She didn’t know anything about what happened to Caleb. I was the one who’d found him, his broken body at the base of the rocks that separated his land from mine. The sheriff had looked around, but when he didn’t find anything suspicious, he ruled Caleb’s death an accident.
Something about that didn’t sit right with me. I told him I didn’t think it was foul play. That wasn’t really a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. I’d been keeping an eye on his place while the court figured out what to do with it, but I hadn’t heard anything about someone moving in.
Bending down, I tightened my grip on the dustpan. While Jack bagged Mrs. Mackey’s groceries, I swept the glass into the dustpan and pretended to tune them out.
“Why would a young woman from the city want to live up on that mountain all alone?” Mrs. Mackey didn’t wait for an answer. “And with the will still in probate court… maybe she’s not quite right in the head.”
“Maybe she wants to learn more about her uncle.” I spoke without thinking, a move that completely contradicted my usual MO. As Mrs. Mackey and Jack turned my way, I cursed under my breath for putting myself in the middle of the conversation.
“Did Caleb say something to you before he passed?” Mrs. Mackey looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time. For the past twenty years I’d managed to fly under the radar, but it seemed like I’d just pasted a fucking target on my own back.
“No.” I dumped the dustpan in the trash can at the end of the counter. “Just hypothesizing.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her credit card against the terminal to pay for her groceries. “If you hear anything, I hope you’ll say something. We don’t want some outsider making waves around here.”
“We’ll all keep an eye out. Do you want help getting those bags to the car?” Jack asked.
I leaned on the counter while he gathered up the bags and followed her out front. When he returned, I traded him the orders I’d filled for the box of supplies he’d packed up for me.
“Folks really love your work.” Jack ran his finger over the handle of one of the knives I’d made. “Are you sure you don’t want to take on more orders?”
“I’m sure.” I liked my life the way it was and didn’t want to commit to more. Making custom hunting knives was an art, not a business. I wouldn’t rush the process, not when I didn’t need to rely on the money coming in. I’d spent too many years executing orders passed down by someone else. Now I lived life on my terms.
“If you change your mind, I could sell twice as many.” Jack slipped the knife back into the leather case. “I envy you, Griff. You’re living the life a lot of us would if we could.”
It might look like I had everything I needed from the outside looking in, but I’d built the kind of life I needed, not necessarily the kind I wanted. No one knew about the past that had followed me to Misty Mountain… the ghosts that chased me and wouldn’t let me go.
I lifted the box off the counter and offered a grim smile. “See you next month.”
“Oh, before you leave, Hank’s been asking about you.”
Instantly suspicious, I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
Jack chuckled. “Said he hasn’t seen you around, and if you don’t show up on Thursday night, he’s going to haul himself up the mountain to check on you.”
Hank was ex-military just like me and owned the Rusty Elk Tavern. Unlike me, he’d made peace with his time in the service and had started hosting a beer and darts night once a month for vets to hang out and support each other. I’d been a couple of times, but it wasn’t my scene. I preferred to keep my thoughts, regrets, and guilt all to myself.
“Last time he tried that his truck got stuck in the mud and I had to haul him out,” I grumbled.
“So, save yourself the trouble and put in an appearance on Thursday.”
“Fine. I’ll be there.” Stopping in at the Rusty Elk for a quick beer was more appealing than having Hank show up unannounced and suffering through a couple hours of small talk. Resigned, I loaded my stuff into the truck before I ran into anyone else with a hidden agenda.
On the drive out of town, I thought about what Mrs. Mackey had said. I’d heard Caleb talk about his niece from time to time. She was his brother’s kid and the only member of his family who hadn’t written him off. He’d even gone to Chicago for her college graduation a couple of years ago. After that, he didn’t talk about her much. If Mrs. Mackey was right and his niece was moving in, I wasn’t looking forward to meeting my new neighbor.
I passed the turn off to Caleb’s place on my way home, but didn’t see anything out of place. The heavy tree coverage prevented me from seeing the lodge from the road. His place sat a quarter mile back in a small clearing. The man liked his privacy almost as much as I did.
As I pulled into my own drive, my grip on the steering wheel relaxed. Going down the mountain always stressed me out. The scent of pine and the earthy promise of spring helped me relax, and the knots in my shoulders loosened. Out of habit, I scanned the area as I came to a stop in the big circle drive. Everything looked just like it had when I left a couple of hours ago.
Scout padded over as I got out of the truck. He knew the sound of my truck and never barked unless there was something he needed to alert me to.
“Hey, boy. Did you keep an eye out while I was gone?” I reached down to scratch behind his ears. He was smart enough to know that I’d ordered a couple of soup bones in my monthly supplies. Tonight, we’d sit by the fire, and I’d let him enjoy one. But first, I needed to unpack, then see what I could find out about my new neighbor.
I lifted my field binoculars and trained them on the front of Caleb’s place. From my vantage point on the huge outcropping of rocks marking our property line, I could see a silver SUV. A woman entered the frame. Short and curvy, her auburn hair piled on top of her head, and she had on one of those puffy designer jackets the tourists wore. The edge stopped right above her full ass. My gaze slid past her hips to a pair of heeled short boots. No warm coat, useless boots. She wasn’t even going to last the weekend up here.
The best thing for me to do would be to ignore her. She’d find out soon enough she wasn’t made for the mountain. Then she turned. My grip on the binoculars tightened along with the muscles in my chest. She was young. And absolutely stunning. Her jacket clung to her curves, showing off her figure. With a heart-shaped face and full lips, she could have been a pin-up model on one of those retro calendars my Army buddy used to hang on the wall by his bunk.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. While I watched, she unzipped a bag in the back of her SUV and lifted out a camera. She slowly lifted it to her eye and pointed at the edge of the clearing. I followed her line of vision and caught sight of a fox. It leapt over a fallen tree. The air was so still and quiet, I could hear the shutter click a few times. Then the fox darted into the woods, leaving her standing there with a look of awe on her gorgeous face.
Something in me softened. Seemed like she appreciated the beauty of this place as much as her uncle. Then the wind shifted. A tree branch snapped above me, and I jerked my attention to where a squirrel scrambled along the limb of a huge pine. I glanced back at the woman. She’d turned toward the sound and appeared to be staring straight at me.
I wasn’t new to sticking to the shadows. There was no way she could spot me from her vantage point, but still, my stomach knotted as she lifted the camera and pointed it right at me. Instinct kicked in and I remained motionless. There was nothing wrong with monitoring my property and making sure she wasn’t a threat. But watching her felt a little more like spying than being vigilant. The less I saw of the beautiful redhead, the better off I’d be.
A hawk screeched overhead, and she shifted her camera up, tracking the bird through the sky. I took the opportunity to retreat. If I decided to introduce myself, it would be on my terms, not because she’d caught me watching her.
She’d probably be gone in a few days. Caleb’s place was even more rustic than mine. A woman like her looked like she might try roughing it for a day or two then bail. With luck, that’s exactly what would happen. Too bad I’d never been a lucky man.