6. Protected
SIX
Protected
WILLOW
I paced the length of the cabin for the better part of an hour, wearing a path in the hardwood while my injured ankle throbbed in protest. Every few minutes, I’d pause at the window that faced the barn, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ash.
But he’d made himself even more scarce after Ro’s bombshell announcement about us staying in Montana.
I hadn’t exactly planned a permanent move, but simply had told her if we liked it we’d stay. To an eight-year-old mind that had suddenly found pure joy riding a pony, she took my words literally. But it all depended on so many things, like my finding a job, finding a new place to live. And Ash…
That was Saturday, this was Sunday, and I hadn’t seen him since. Daylight wasted away quickly this afternoon, and I was desperate to speak with him.
My fingers drummed against the windowsill as I spied Knox and Colt working with Daisy and Juniper in the distance, with Ro watching intently. Even from here, I could see the beautiful mare’s defiant spirit. She reminded me of myself—trapped in the past, but desperate for a brighter future.
My reasons for coming here were many, the primary one being Ash, the man who seemed to avoid me.
I limped back to the kitchen and grabbed my phone from the counter, scrolling through various emails I’d sent Ash over the years.
Dozens of them. Ro’s first steps. Her first word—"Dada," not “Mama.” Her first day of school.
The first Christmas morning without Scott.
All these life moments Ash had missed out on and why?
Scott used to mention that Ash asked about us sometimes, in those rare phone calls between the brothers. Was I a fool sending pieces of my heart in emails, hoping he’d show me some kind of feeling back?
The worst part? I had convinced myself I was doing it for Ro’s sake. So she’d know her uncle cared, even if he couldn’t be present. But deep down, I knew it was all about me. Ash and me.
Now that Scott was gone, I needed to find out if there was even a shred of hope for us.
I couldn’t move past my inexplicable feelings for him, ones that had never faded over the years.
So, I came here searching for answers. I knew the path ahead wouldn’t be an easy one, not with the amount of love and guilt in Ash’s heart for his brother, still after all this time.
Who could blame him? But one look in his eyes the day I stepped off the bus and I recognized the torment within him, the pain he’d kept bottled away. Could I help him heal… and find a way forward together?
My thumb hovered over Ash’s contact information. We’d exchanged numbers yesterday when he’d insisted on setting up an emergency protocol, in case we saw a bear.
Well, if that’s what it took to get him here. I texted him.
Me: Bear!
Ash: I’ll be right there.
I waited for him to arrive. Within minutes, his truck skidded to a stop at the front of the cabin. The sound of heavy boots pounded up the porch steps. My heart leapt into my throat as I unlocked the door and flung it open.
Ash filled the doorway like some kind of hero, rifle in hand, hard brown eyes scanning the room with military precision. He slammed the door behind him.
“Are you okay? Did the bear give you a scare? Where is it now? Did you see which way it went?” The barrage of questions was followed by his checking that every door and window were closed, and peeking out the sliding glass door toward the shed and the tree line behind the cabin.
I pressed my back against the log wall, suddenly realizing how insane my plan had been.
Terrifying and magnificent, he fell into full protective mode, coiled tight for action.
His broad shoulders strained against his black and white flannel shirt, and the controlled way he moved must have been drilled into him as a soldier.
“I, um…” My voice came out smaller than I’d intended.
He stepped in front of me. Dark and stormy eyes narrowed as he took in my complete lack of distress.
The rifle lowered slowly. “There is no bear?”
I lifted my chin, forcing myself to meet his stare. “No. ”
His jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth gnash together. The muscle in his cheek twitched as he engaged the safety on his rifle and propped it against the wall with deliberate precision.
“What the hell, Willow?” He scowled how only a gruff mountain man could.
“I wanted to get you alone. Finally.” I forced a smile.
“You think this is some kind of joke? Running a ranch in these mountains isn’t easy. And bears are no laughing matter.” He raised his voice.
“I know. Especially when it comes to the growly bear in front of me right now. You’ve been avoiding me.” I met his tone of voice in equal measure and crossed my arms, accusatory.
“No, I’m not avoiding you. Christ, Willow.” He dragged a hand through his thick hair, the movement sharp and agitated. “Do you have any idea what went through my head when I saw that text? I thought—” He cut himself off, spinning away from me to stare out the window, hands on hips.
“What? Were you worried for my safety?”
“Of course I was. Fuck. What do you want from me?” His voice cracked, echoing his pain around the room.
What would it take to get this mountain man to open up?
“To spend time with you. Get to know you again, and for Ro to know her uncle. You can’t keep pretending we don’t exist, Ash. You’ve been doing it for years through unanswered emails, and now you’re doing it face to face.”
He whirled around, eyes blazing. “You think this is easy for me? Having you here, looking like you still see me as you did the day we first met? Forcing me to remember the feel of your lips on mine that last night before I left for the Army. Making me regret ever letting Scott have you?”
My breath caught. The words poured out of him and hit me hard. All these years, I’d thought his silence meant indifference. That maybe I’d imagined the connection between us, that the kiss at the lake wasn’t real, and built it all up in my mind until it had become something it never was.
“Ash—”
“Do you know how many nights I’ve lain awake thinking about that last summer before I enlisted?” His voice was rough now, all pretense stripped away. “Wondering what might have happened if I’d been brave enough to tell you how I felt instead of running scared? ”
My heart hammered against my ribs. This was everything I’d hoped for, that he actually cared for me. “Then tell me now.”
“No. I can’t hurt Scott.” He stared at me for a long moment. The cabin grew smaller suddenly, the air between us charged with years of longing.
“Ash.” His name came out breathier than I intended. His pupils dilated at the sound.
He took a step back, hitting the wall behind him. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I challenged, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“Like you want me to do something we’ll both regret.” His voice was strained, rough around the edges.
A laugh escaped me, sharp and a little wild. “Regret? You think I’d regret finally knowing what it feels like to be in your arms?”
His jaw clenched, and I could see the war playing out in his eyes over the guilt that had made him rush to enlist in the Army. The same fear which had kept him from answering my messages. But I was done being a thousand miles away from what could be.
I took a step toward him, favoring my good ankle but not letting the injury slow me down. Another step. He pressed harder against the wall, but his eyes never left mine.
“Willow.” My name through his clenched teeth sounded like a curse from his mouth.
“Tell me you felt it too. All those stolen glances when Scott wasn’t looking. The way you’d find excuses to touch me—helping me down from the back of his truck, steadying me when I stumbled on the trail during our last hike together. That one. Tiny. Kiss at the lake at midnight…”
We’d all gone camping for one final time before he left for the Army. I wasn’t supposed to go along, just a trip for the brothers, but I came anyway. I’d gotten up in the middle of the night to pee and found him at the end of the dock, staring off into space.
We talked, and he admitted his fears about leaving, about joining up with the military. I worried and couldn’t understand why he had joined in the first place. It had been the one thing he swore he’d never do—following in his father’s footsteps into the Army.
He avoided my questions and had me in stitches telling me stories about him and Scott growing up.
That turned into teasing, arms and legs brushing, leaning in right as the sun threatened to rise.
And then, at last, a stolen kiss. Just one, heart stopping brush of lips before he rushed away back to his tent .
“That damn kiss should never have been.” His breathing had grown shallow and brought me back from the past. My eyes zeroed in on the pulse hammering at the base of his throat. “One taste of you and I wanted more.”
“I knew it. You felt something between us that night, too.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
I was close enough now to catch the scent of him—outdoors, leather, trees—uniquely Ash that sent the butterflies fluttering crazily in my stomach. “Stop punishing yourself for wanting something you never let yourself have.”
“I can’t.” But even as he said it, his gaze dropped to my lips.
The cabin walls closed in until there was nothing but the space between our bodies and the electricity crackling in the air.
His resolve cracked, shoulders falling. His hands lifted slightly from his sides, then fell back as if he’d caught himself.
“You’re Scott’s?—”
“I was. But he’s gone. And I loved him, Ash.
I truly did. What I had with Scott was comfortable.
Safe. Built on friendship.” ” The words came out harsher than I intended, but they needed to be said.
I took the final step that brought us almost chest to chest, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
My lashes fluttered. “What I feel for you has never been safe.”
A sound escaped him—half groan, half growl—and suddenly his hands were on my waist, fingers digging into the soft cotton of my sundress like anchors. Not pulling me closer, but not pushing me away either. Just holding on. Like I might disappear.
“This is a mistake,” he whispered, but lacked conviction.
“No, I’m tired of wondering what if.” I lifted my hands to his chest. The rapid beat of his heart thumped beneath my palms.
“Willow,” he breathed, his head dipped toward mine, taking an eternity to get there, like we were the last two people on Earth and time no longer mattered. Our lips almost touched, only a centimeter away from fusing together at last?—
The shrill ring of his phone shattered the moment into pieces.
He sprang away from me to answer it. All the breath whooshed from my lungs. I’d throw his phone out the window if I could.