Page 8 of Mountain Grump Protector

“I can take care of myself.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m sure you can. Tomorrow. Or whenever this all blows over.”

There’s nothing else I can say, because the last thing I’m going to do is admit that he’s right. Not when he actually is. With a huff, I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window.

“He’s still going to be pissed with me,” I say. “Even in the morning.”

“He’ll get over it.”

I huff again, harder this time. I’m not in the mood to be reasonable, and he’s being so calm, I want to scream.

We drive in silence for a few minutes. The road climbs and twists as we leave the small township of Iron Peak behind and move higher up the mountain, where Cal and his military buddies are known to own most of the land up on the mountain, and I meant what I said; everyone knows of them.

They’re grumpy mountain men who mostly keep to themselves, and up until very recently, when a few of them found women who agreed to marry them, they’re not known to take kindly to intruders.

I’ve never ventured up here before. There was never a reason to.

Until now, apparently.

I don’t let my thoughts drift too far into the reality of what I’m doing, heading up into the wilderness with a stranger and no way out.

I think about my brother instead, and how the hell I’m possibly going to get out of this latest mess he’s gotten me into. Bryson skipped town two days earlier, leaving me to clean up after him. That’s not new.

That’s the problem.

It’s not the first time he’s left me to fix what he’s broken.

The whole reason we’re even in Iron Peak is his fault. We had to move across the valley from Rock Creek, where there were actually jobs, and people, and…well, everything that the rough, isolated village doesn’t have, because of the debts Bryson—and Dad—racked up.

Now we’re trapped. With almost no money, very few prospects, and as of a few hours ago…more debts that couldn’t be paid. Only now, my safety seems to be on the line, as well.

I squeeze my eyes shut long enough to blot out the unshed tears that I refuse to let spill down my cheeks. I hate crying.

I hate even more that when I get overwhelmed or frustrated, that’s exactly what I do.

“We’re almost there,” Cal says, getting from the seat next to me, like maybe he’s noticed the shift in my emotions.

I swallow hard and pull myself together, opening my eyes in time to see him turn off the main forestry road onto an even smaller and rougher one.

“You're pretty far out,” I say, trying not to sound concerned about the remote location.

“Not really. I’m the closest to town. The others are all further up.”

I assume the others refer to his buddies. Rumor has it they all bought their properties on the mountain many years earlier, when they were still in the military. One of them, Luke, maybe, has experience with money and apparently invested all of their money, so now they’re all millionaires living like recluses.

That’s the story anyway.

The cabin comes into view in the dim light. It’s bigger than I expected. Especially since he lives alone. At least, I assume he does.

A big, black and white dog jumps up from the porch and runs out to greet the truck as we pull up in the yard.

He cuts the engine and is out of the truck before I can say anything. It takes me a second to realize he’s coming to open my door as if I’m some sort of package he picked up at the bar. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit around and wait for a man to come and let me out.

He’s already at my door when I drop down out of the cab into the dirt. His mouth tightens, but I ignore him in favor of the dog who’s come running over.

“What’s his name?” I ask as I bend down to pet him.

“That’s Murph. Be careful with him,” I jerk my hand back and stare at Cal, horrified. “If you pet him, he’ll never leave you alone,” he says with a shake of his head.