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Wife for the Lumberjack: A Single Dad Mountain Man Romance

Page 2

by Ambrielle Kirk


  “Mr. Kamaz? It’s your call.”

  I sighed. “I need the help. And I need someone permanent. More like a wife. I need to be able to trust her to take care of household matters for me.”

  “Of course. Francesca is open to long-term specific arrangements like yours. Whatever you need. I know you’ll love her. She fits your description to the “T”. She’s young and educated, and she even has experience working on a farm.”

  “We can work out the arrangement and the time frame once I approve,” I said.

  “Once you see her in action, you’ll be sold.”

  “Right…” My attention waned again.

  I was certain that the visitor at my rental office was a woman. She was standing out on the edge of the porch with what looked like her cell phone held high in the air, probably trying to get a signal.

  “Well, should I send her now?” Kathy inquired.

  “No one needs to get stuck in this blizzard. Why don’t you have them come out after the storm passes? The road crews usually take a day or so to clean up afterward. And that’s when I’ll be getting the most business and needing the most help. Could be a good time for both of us to do a trial run before making things permanent.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Kamaz. Now, if—”

  Kathy’s next comment was cut off by my phone beeping, alerting me that I had a call on another line. Suspicious of the timing, I squinted until I could see through the thick blanket of fog. The woman now had her cell phone pressed to her ear.

  “I have another call. Thanks for arranging this. We’ll talk soon.”

  I ended the connection with Kathy and switched to the other call. “Cordwood Cabin Rentals?”

  “Yes,” a soft voice replied. “I, um…the sign said to call this number to reach the owner. Are you the owner?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m looking for my sister. She stayed here a while back. I was wondering if you could look her up and—”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t give out personal information about prior guests,” I stated.

  This wasn’t the first time a person called me looking for a long-lost lover or family member. She probably wouldn’t be the last. This was a tourist town. Hundreds of travelers came through here to make a pit stop before making their next move. And Arrow Lake was about a few hundred miles south of the Canadian border. People came here often with the intent of leaving the U.S. and starting a new life in another country.

  “Okay,” she mumbled. “I figured you couldn’t give out any information, but I was wondering if you had any cabins available. By the lake, maybe.”

  Even though it sounded like she was fishing for information, something propelled me forward and I started walking in the direction of the rental office. The female visitor had no idea that I was looking right at her from the distance.

  “I’m sold out. I thought I put the sign by the road. I’m sorry.”

  “But…” There was a long silence. “Never mind.”

  Before I could offer a suggestion, the woman hung up and jumped in the car. After a while, she pulled out of the yard and onto the road.

  “That lady’s gone,” Roy pointed out.

  “Yeah. Weird.” I scratched my head. “Let’s go bake some pizza.”

  I hooked an arm across his shoulders, and we headed back toward the house.

  I couldn’t help but look behind me at the spot where the woman once stood. Something told me I shouldn’t have sent her away.

  Chapter Two

  Viktor

  I rinsed off some plates and piled them into the dishwasher. I sipped from my beer as I worked. This was my usual night routine. Dinner with Roy. A bit of clean-up in the kitchen if I had time. A couple beers while watching sports highlights or the evening news if I didn’t have paperwork. If there was paperwork, I would lock myself in my home office and work until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Then after that, a shower and bedtime. I was lucky if I got five hours of sleep a night.

  Roy had already retreated to his room. We had his nightly routine secured too. It was lights off before nine for him. He didn’t give me any problems about that one. Every night I would go check on him, and he’d be curled under his sheets or huddled up on the floor with some toys. Now that the season was in full swing and Roy rose at the crack of dawn with me, he was usually extra tired at night.

  My cell phone rang just as I started the dishwasher. I answered without peeking at the Caller ID.

  “Kamaz, you still up?” It was Garrett from the supermarket. “Are you open for business tomorrow? I have people calling wondering if we’re going to get any more firewood in.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a pile here behind the house and Troop took some out to the farmer’s market this morning. I suppose they’ll be open bright and early too. After that, it’ll be a few days until we get some more. I’ve got my people working all week to make sure we have a surplus before the storm hits.”

  “Thank God you’ve still got some. Can I send Curtis over to pick some up in the morning? I’ll probably need half of what you got.”

  “Sure, Roy and I will be around most of the day, I think. If not, just have your guy pick up the order and then drop the check through the mail slot at the rental office,” I replied.

  “Sure thing. Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you this. You know, my son moved back here since he’s divorced now. He has plenty of experience in sales and logistics. He’s looking to join a stable company out here.”

  “I’m sure he’ll find something. If not in Arrow Lake, then maybe south of here in the valleys.”

  Turning around, I peered out of the window above the sink. Most of the area was pitch black. Every so often, a few snowflakes would stick to the glass. Off in the distance near the rental office, I saw some lights creeping along the trees surrounding the building. Maybe it was a car passing by or turning around in the cul-de-sac.

  After a while of looking out of the window and me not saying anything, Garrett added, “My son would be glad to join your partnership. I know your brother up and left…”

  “Tell you what. Give me time to crunch some numbers and then I’ll set up a meeting with your son. I could use someone with logistics experience.”

  “He’d be honored to come work for you, Kamaz. I can’t wait to tell him about this.”

  “I’d love to help him out, plus I need all the help I can get.”

  “Did you hear about what happened up north last week with those bandits that live up near the mountains?” Garret asked.

  “No…”

  I sort of faded out when he began gossiping about his crazy conspiracies about the howling woodsmen and wild mountain men roaming around in Arrow Lake. Well, I had been living out here all my life, and I’d never seen a grown man howling in the woods. Or maybe I was just too busy to even notice or care.

  When I looked out again at the tiny office cabin, the headlights were no longer moving along the tree trunks. Something was odd. I had this feeling.

  I pushed the curtains back out of the way to get a better view. A small light was moving steadily toward the front door. Who the heck would be at my office this time of night? The residents had an emergency number. They knew better than to look for me at the office this late. Only one or two long-term residents even knew that I lived out here. That was for the best. I didn’t need tourists coming to my private home every time they clogged up the drain or a light bulb blew out.

  Garrett was still running his mouth, spilling all the latest news and rumors. I wasn’t even interested in hearsay anymore. I knew how people could twist stories into lies. But I let Garrett talk anyway. He used to work for my dad when he was just a boy, so he was the equivalent of family.

  Another small shadow moved against a tree trunk. I shook my head and decided that I must be out of my mind. I really needed some rest.

  After I got off the phone with Garrett, I went down the hall to check on Roy. He was still fast asleep with a dozen toys at the foot of the bed, which told m
e that he probably tapped out while playing with them. Shaking my head, I closed the door softly.

  I made my way back into the kitchen to grab another beer. From the table, I picked up a thick stack of financial statements that my accountant had mailed me last week.

  Just as I was heading out of the kitchen, I saw a light flicker on in one of the windows of the rental cabin.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” I mumbled under my breath.

  I plopped my stuff back onto the table and grabbed the key from the hook on the wall near the refrigerator. After pulling on my boots and grabbing my coat, I grabbed my shotgun and let the screen door slam behind me.

  I had dealt with trespassers before. Had been dealing with them all my life. Most of the time, after showing them that I meant business about no trespassing, they moved on.

  I ran across the field and then marched right up to the front porch where I spotted the suspicious activity. Someone was inside moving around. But who was it? Who would have the nerve to just break into my office?

  Chapter Three

  Kristene

  “Who’s there?” a man’s voice called out gruffly.

  “Oh shit!” I dropped the clipboard I was holding and ducked down behind a desk. I tried to blow the candle out, but it was too late.

  Heavy footsteps pounded up the porch steps. My heart thudded in my chest and my lungs felt like they could burst at any moment. I pressed my lips together and tried not to make a sound.

  Why did I think this was a good idea anyway? This was wrong. I never should’ve picked my way in here, but how else was I supposed to find Jocelyn? On the phone earlier, the man seemed like he wasn’t going to help me out.

  The door squeaked open and I froze. As the man came into the small space that made up the one-room cabin, a big dark shadow loomed over the wall and on the ceiling. The man’s silhouette looked like a humongous Sasquatch-looking motherfucker.

  “You broke into my cabin. I know you’re in here. Come out now before things get nasty,” the deep voice commanded again.

  Oh God. I was in deep shit.

  I heard something like a click, like someone was preparing to fire a weapon.

  “Darren, is that you, kid? If you’re out loitering again, I’m going to call more than just your papa, son.”

  I bit my bottom lip as the footsteps came closer, pounding against the hardwood floors.

  “The fuck?” the man croaked.

  He looked like a giant standing over me. He had to have been well over six feet tall. And I was right. He was big and muscular. The barrel of his shotgun was pointed down at the floor, but then he put it away. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he wore an angry snarl. I shrank back into the shadows and pulled the hood of my sweater over my head, covering up most of my face.

  “Boy, you can’t camp out in here. What the hell are you doing in here?”

  He thought I was a boy. Thank God I decided to wear the baseball cap as well as the baggy sweater. If he kept that shotgun hidden, I could make a dash for it. No one would ever know that I was there because no one knew who I was.

  “Do you hear me? What’s your name? Who are your parents? Get on up out of that corner.”

  I opened my mouth to speak but didn’t know what to say and I certainly didn’t want to give myself away. After snapping my mouth shut, I sprang up from the floor and darted around the other end of the desk. The big man leaped after me. I saw his shadow barrel right over me before he caught my ankle in what felt like a death grip.

  I screamed just as something crashed to the floor and then I smelled smoke. Flames. Oh God. Something was on fire. I managed to kick my ankle loose from his grip as we struggled together on the floor. When I came to a standing position, I realized that the candle I lit had somehow toppled over and lit a fire to a stack of papers on the desk.

  “Goddammit,” the man boomed.

  As he took some blankets and began beating at the spreading flames, I stumbled backward toward the exit.

  “Oh my God.” What have I done?

  The man turned around, fixing his angry glare on me as the fire blazed brightly before us. He wasn’t afraid; he was furious.

  He must have decided that putting out the fire was more important than catching me because he turned swiftly and grabbed a fire extinguisher from a metal cabinet nearby. With huge sweeping moves, he attacked the flames, but it wasn’t enough. The fire spread fast and he couldn’t keep up.

  I had the chance to run. To get out of there and never return. I thought about it. I really did. But I couldn’t leave, not even if it meant I was going to be in some deep shit when the ashes settled.

  Near the exit, another fire extinguisher was clipped to the wall. I lunged for it, broke the clip, and hosed down the fire. With both of us attacking the flames from every direction, the blaze dissipated. In the aftermath, the whole corner of the cabin, the desk, and a wooden file cabinet were destroyed.

  The man dumped the fire extinguisher down and glared at me.

  “I…” I started.

  “Kamaz! Everything okay?” A couple of guys rushed into the small space. “We saw the flames. We called the fire station.”

  “The fire’s out. Yeah. Everything’s fine,” the man mumbled.

  “What happened?” one of them asked.

  Kamaz allowed his gaze to travel to me.

  “Did this boy cause the fire?” the other inquired.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, backing away.

  He eyed me strangely. A long moment passed as he examined my face with careful scrutiny until recognition set in on his face. He looked me up and down with an expression-less face. That’s when I knew. He knew I wasn’t a boy.

  “You’ve got explaining to do,” he said. He moved lightning quick and scooped me up, throwing me across his shoulders.

  “Kamaz?” the others called out.

  “Everything’s under control. Call the fire department and tell them not to send any help out. It’s not needed here,” Kamaz commanded as he barreled down the steps carrying me like I was lightweight luggage.

  “Let me down,” I screamed. “Please help me!”

  I knew my pleas for help from the others would go unchecked. They thought I was some adolescent boy who broke into a cabin and started a fire. They weren’t going to help me. As I was being carried away, I lifted my head to see the guys pointing and shaking their head with their arms crossed over their chests.

  This was a stupid idea, and I’d been caught. What was I going to do now?

  Chapter Four

  Kristene

  “Sir, please…I didn’t mean to start a fire.”

  I wriggled in his grip. My physical tantrum didn’t faze him one bit. He gripped my ass with his big hand and repositioned me on his broad shoulder. The further away I got from the small cabin, the harder I kicked and pounded his back.

  “I’m just looking for my sister!” I yelled, my panicked breaths penetrating the chilly air.

  He passed several rows of cypress trees, a clearing, and then another row of big pine trees before nearing a huge house on a lot the size of a football field. I spotted a swing seat, several work trucks, some tractors, and piles of firewood. His boots slammed down across something solid. The railing of a porch came into view and then I was shoved down in a chair.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

  Before I could rise from the chair, he added, “Don’t try to run. There’s nowhere for you to go and I will catch you.”

  I forced myself to look up at him. His gaze was powerful. Even though this man was probably about to be the nightmare from hell for what I did to his cabin, he was attractive. He was a bit rugged, but still easy on the eyes. I saw how handsome he was despite the thick mahogany beard covering his face.

  “Please don’t call the police on me. It was an accident,” I pleaded.

  He frowned. “So…did you enter my property by accident?”

  I shook my head and then looked down at the floorboa
rds. I allowed my gaze to wander as I tried to come up with an excuse.

  Several toys were strewn across the porch. Wooden and aluminum trucks. Various action figures. A bundle of wood sat near the door beside an old clay flower pot.

  Without warning, the man tugged off my hood and removed my cap. My unruly hair cascaded down my shoulders.

  I thought I heard him utter a gasp, but by the time I found his gaze again, he had already replaced his surprised expression with another scowl. I stared right back at him. His hazel eyes seemed to penetrate my core, demanding answers.

  “I am so so sorry for what happened back there. I promise I’ll do anything to fix it,” I told him.

  He grunted.

  A phone rang. The man unclipped a leather strap from his belt and pulled out a cell. He answered the call.

  “Kamaz.”

  I couldn’t make out the conversation, but whoever it was sounded frantic.

  The man, who I assumed was known as Kamaz to everyone, spoke calmly even though he was eyeing me like a hawk.

  “Everything’s fine, Sheriff. No need to send anybody. The boy? Yeah, some local kid. … I’ll talk with his parents. … You still want my written statement? … Well, if you say so but I don’t think all that is necessary. The cabin is fine. I won’t be pressing any charges or anything like that. Some of my stuff is burned up inside, but nothing major. … If you say so, but it’ll probably be best if you wait until tomorrow. … Okay, copy that, Sherriff. You enjoy the rest of your night. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

  Kamaz stuffed the cell phone in his back pocket, propped both hands up on his hips, and looked at me.

  I swallowed when I realized that the man hadn’t ratted me out. He was stalling, probably trying to figure out how to inflict the most damage on me. It looked like he had kids. Maybe even a wife. He couldn’t have been a serial killer or anything like that. If he was a murderer, he would have shot me when he discovered me in the cabin. My attempts to halt my rising fear wasn’t helping. I was still perched on the edge of the chair, determined to run at the first sign of weakness from this husky man named Kamaz.

 

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