3. Griff
CHAPTER 3
GRIFF
I’d tried to ignore the woman living a mile down the mountain. Tried to keep to myself and stick to my routine, but it was no use. Not even working on a new custom order had held my attention. Two days after I showed up on her porch and built her a fire, I stood on the rocks overlooking Caleb’s property and raised the binoculars to my eyes.
She’d kept the fire going. I’d been able to smell it in the air and saw smoke coming out of the chimney. I figured she’d be gone by now, but her silver SUV still sat in the drive. It had snowed twice in the past forty-eight hours and there were no new tracks. That meant she hadn’t left, and no one had been by to bother her. At least not in a vehicle.
Based on what I knew about Caleb’s inventory of firewood, she was probably getting low. He’d used up most of his supply over the winter and there wasn’t much remaining on the stack out back. If she didn’t give up soon, she’d need to figure out a way to replenish it.
While I scanned the clearing, the front door of the lodge opened. Juniper stepped out onto the porch holding a mug in her hands. Her hair was caught up in the same kind of pile on top of her head, and I wondered what it would look like falling over her shoulders or even better, sliding through my fingers. She closed her eyes and executed a slow neck roll, first one way and then the other. Then she bent over, sticking her ass in the air and stretching out her legs.
Thoughts of grabbing onto her thick hips from behind raced through my head. Fuck. Me. It had been too damn long since I’d been around a woman. Not only was I out of practice, I’d forgotten how to hold myself in check. Besides being too young, too big city, and too damn naive, Juniper was Caleb’s niece. I didn’t owe him anything, but at least I could keep myself from drooling over his flesh and blood. Hell, I’d built a life on my ability to maintain total control. I wasn’t about to lose it over a woman with a camera and a stubborn streak.
She stepped back inside and returned a few minutes later in the same useless coat and boots she’d had on the other day. She needed real gear if she wanted to venture out. Spring might have sprung at the base of the mountain, but it would be weeks until the threat of snow subsided. Maybe by then she’d be gone.
The idea should have made me smile or at least lighten the pressure in my chest. Instead, a heaviness settled in my gut, one I didn’t know quite how to handle. So, I did what I did best—ignored it and moved on.
Juniper left the porch, her camera strap slung around her neck and headed to the edge of the clearing. She squatted down and examined some tracks, then followed them into the woods.
Hell. I couldn’t stand around waiting to see if she’d come back. Silently, I scaled the rocks and tracked her movements through the trees. She didn’t belong out here. These woods could challenge an experienced outdoorsman. For someone like Juniper who had no idea what she was doing, the forest could swallow her up.
Despite not being thrilled about having a new neighbor, I wouldn’t be responsible for something happening to her. Not when I owed it to her uncle to keep an eye on her.
She hummed as she walked, pausing every dozen feet to train her camera on something that captured her interest. She’d snap a few shots, then hold her camera away from her face to scroll through the images. Watching her reaction to seeing the things I took for granted had me wondering what she saw when she looked through the viewfinder.
It wasn’t hard to track her without being noticed. She was so enamored with the beauty of nature, I doubt she would have heard an entire herd of elk moving through the trees. That was another reason she wasn’t safe here. Being oblivious meant she was putting herself in danger, and I wasn’t always going to be following her to make sure she stayed out of trouble.
When she got to the small stream that ran through the property, she froze. A fox stood on the opposite side, slowly drinking from the running water. His reddish fur stood out in stark contrast to the snowy bank behind him. Juniper quietly lifted her camera and captured the moment. When she looked at the picture, she sucked in an audible breath.
The fox lifted its head and paused for a few seconds. Then it turned, its tail flicking back and forth as it disappeared into the snow-covered brush.
Juniper tried to follow but stopped short at the edge of the stream. She could have easily crossed it in waterproof boots, but at least she had the smarts to realize splashing through in leather booties wouldn’t be the best decision. I shook my head, impressed that she’d even lasted this long. I figured she’d be gone in a couple of days, but the woman had guts. Too bad that was the only thing she had going for her.
When she turned to head back to the lodge, I stopped following her and cut through the woods to my place. Scout raced to meet me, running circles around me in the snow. If Juniper was going to stay up here, she needed a watch dog or a security system or something to give her an edge and keep her safe.
But first, she needed more firewood. I set down the binoculars and reached for my axe.
Later, I stopped in front of Caleb’s place. Juniper was gone. I’d taken a break from chopping wood when I heard her car head down the mountain a couple of hours ago. She wasn’t gone for good. Not unless she’d left her cat behind. Sir Aper Whatever glared at me through the front window as I unloaded enough firewood to last her a week. Maybe more if she didn’t burn through it too fast. I should have been pissed she hadn’t bailed yet, but there was a part of me that was rooting for her. She might not fit in, but she appreciated the wildness of the mountain.
Caleb told me before he died that someone had made him an offer on his land. They’d been interested in setting it up as a hunting rental, but he hadn’t been looking to sell. I didn’t blame him. It was bad enough keeping an eye out for irresponsible hunters who ran through the woods with rifles. Unleashing a bunch of outsiders on the mountain would put all of us at risk. In my mind, hunting wasn’t for fun, it was necessary for survival, but I’d come across too many kills that had been abandoned because they weren’t trophy worthy to know that not everyone felt the same way.
Caleb respected the land too much to let it go. But now with his will hung up in probate, no telling what would happen. The wrong person didn’t need much to take advantage. One scared niece. One push. One signature, and it would all be over.
I brushed away the bark that clung to my shirt, determined to prevent any of that from happening. Maybe people would be talking about it tonight at the Rusty Elk. I was heading into town to make good on my promise to show up at Hank’s, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Walking into the dimly lit bar, the scent of fried food and spilled beer greeted me. I settled on a stool at the counter and promised myself I’d only stay long enough for one beer. I’d say hi to Hank and let him see I was still breathing. That ought to be enough to keep him from heading up the mountain.
“Griff. Long time no see.” Hank wiped a ring of water off the bar in front of me. “What can I get you?”
I checked the chalkboard behind him that listed the seasonal brews they had on tap. “Give me one of those amber ales.”
“Tall or short?”
“Definitely short.” The sooner I downed my beer, the sooner I could be on my way.
Hank must have realized my plan. “It’s not going to kill you to hang out for a couple of hours. We’ve got a few new guys here tonight. They would really benefit from hearing how you’ve been able to move past all the shit you went through.”
I shook my head as I reached for the pint glass he handed me. “Pretty sure I’m not setting the best example on how to cope with life after the service.”
Hank got serious. “Even after all these years, it would still help to talk about it.”
“No thanks.” Spilling their guts might help some soldiers, but not me. I didn’t want to forget what happened, didn’t want to be free of the pain. I deserved every bit of it. No one seemed able to understand that. No one except my foster mother back in Texas. Mama Mae had been the one to encourage me to move to the mountains. She could tell I was barely holding on when I arrived back in Texas, the only survivor of a mission that went horribly wrong.
Fuck. Just being in this place surrounded by other guys who were carrying too much baggage threatened to drag me down. I’d figured out how to deal with my own demons. Surrounding myself with other vets who were fighting their own wasn’t doing me any good.
I got up to leave and bumped into Dawson. He was another lost cause. We nodded at each other, each of us drowning in our own guilt. I glanced past him, past Finn sipping a beer at the bar, my eye on the door, when she walked in.
Every muscle in my body tensed. Dropping off firewood or following her through the woods was one thing, but now she was here. In my space. Sucking all the air out of the room and smiling like she’d been living in Misty Mountain forever.
The mountain might be dangerous because of the wildlife and unpredictable weather, but even that would be safer than leaving Juniper alone to fend off some of the town’s most damaged men. I reclaimed my spot at the bar and watched her shrug off her jacket and fold it over her arm.
“Who the hell is that?” Hank stopped in front of me, his gaze tracking Juniper’s progress toward the bar.
I hunched over my beer, hoping she didn’t see me. “Caleb’s niece. She moved into his place a few days ago.”
Hank’s brows knit together. “She’s your new neighbor?”
“Yeah. Showed up unannounced and probably would have frozen to death the first night if I hadn’t lit the stove for her.”
She had her camera bag slung over her shoulder and had stopped at the other end of the bar to chat with Hank’s wife, Clara. Her hair was held back in a low ponytail and her cheeks were pink from the cold. Clara said something that made her smile, and I could hear her high-pitched laughter over the low din of the crowd. That laugh—bright and unguarded—hit me like a sucker punch to the chest. I hadn’t realized how quiet my world had become until she stepped into it and started making noise.
Several of the guys must have heard her too because half a dozen of them turned their attention toward her. If she noticed, she didn’t flinch. That only made it worse. She slid onto a stool and shifted her focus to a hockey game that played on a nearby screen.
“So, the two of you must have already met…” Hank started.
“We did.”
“And?” he prompted.
Reluctantly, I lifted my head and shrugged. “And what? She doesn’t belong here, and if she’s not careful, she’s going to get herself hurt.”
“The odds of that happening are slim to none with you looking after her. Any word on when her uncle’s estate will be out of probate?” He crossed his arms and eyed me like I’d just promised to become Juniper’s personal mountain guide.
“Nothing yet.”
“I heard the family is trying to sell it. Seems like it would be in your best interest for Caleb’s niece to stay.”
That’s what I’d been worried about. If the family sold it out from under her and that asshole who’d tried to buy it from Caleb ended up with it, I’d be fucked.
I took a long sip of my beer. As I quickly weighed my options, Juniper scanned the bar, and her eyes met mine. A soft smile spread across her lips, and she lifted her hand in a friendly wave.
“What are you going to do, Griff? Scare her off and take your chances with someone new moving in, or teach her how to survive in a place that’s so beautiful it can take your breath away while you fight for your life?” Hank asked. His eyes crinkled at the edges like he was enjoying my personal hell.
Neither option appealed to me, but I had to choose. Taking my chance with someone new could be a challenge. But spending time with Juniper? Keeping her close and teaching her everything I knew about taming the wild nature of the mountain? Either she left and the wrong hands took the land, or she stayed—and I let her get under my skin.
Option number one might kill the mountain. The other might kill me.