by Em Petrova
“I don’t know how things got so mixed up. We figured after a few months here, we’d know how to work the land to survive. We read so much, studied other homesteaders’ stories…” He shook his head. “It ain’t as easy as we thought.”
“No, it’s not.” Ryan filled the silence by splitting more logs. “What about the kids’ schooling and stuff?”
“Ah, Lynn’s a schoolteacher. She makes them sit down with their studies daily. They’re actually further advanced than other kids their age.”
“That happens with one-on-one instruction, I s’pose,” Ryan said. He paused in his task and stared at the man. “Look, you guys won’t survive another season up here this way.”
Chad’s throat worked. “Damn, I know it.”
“So if you want to stay, we have work to do—hard work. You need water, for one. A better shelter. I think your cabin can be salvaged, if we just shore up that roof and add a solid wall. I’d like to actually extend the roof too, because the overhang will provide a place to keep your wood dry and a place for an outside stove. I have a feeling that little stove in your cabin isn’t doing much and is probably smokier than you’d like too. Am I right?” Ryan had seen the smallest of vent pipes protruding from the back of the cabin.
Chad nodded. The man was listening, at least. Following a dream wasn’t a bad thing, but he needed to follow instruction if he wanted to survive here with his family.
“We also need some good shelters for your animals. You’re in a great spot here with access to the lower prairies where your animals can forage. Similar to my set-up. You can fatten the animals to sell and then buy more, as well as other supplies.”
Chad nodded. “Those sound like good ideas. I appreciate it.” He paused. “What about the things I create? I could sell those as well.”
“Definitely. Lots of tourists come to these parts and I’m sure finding things crafted by a local artist is something right up their alley. But do you have anything to sell right now that could raise funds to kickstart our plan?”
He shook his head. “Been so busy trying to survive. Hunting, chopping wood… I haven’t had time. And I need good pieces of wood to start with. These pines,” he set his ax point into a log, “aren’t right for what I do.”
Ryan nodded. “So we need to set you up a little better in that department as well.”
Chad dropped his head and rubbed his nape.
“Look,” Ryan said softly, “I want to see you succeed up here. I’m willing to help and putting aside your pride is the only way. Sometimes as men, we need to drop the pride in order to fight another day. Are you willing to do that?”
Raising his head, Chad gave a hard nod of affirmation. Then he stuck out his hand and Ryan grasped it. With things settled, they continued working for a while longer before taking a break to drink some water.
When Ryan walked into the yard to see Livvy, his heart gave a tug. How the woman had gotten the entire Hostler family wrapped around her little finger in such a short time was beyond Ryan. He watched her playing with the boys, a game she’d been taught in the streets of Kosovo, she said, by some urchins who’d ‘been out to take her money.’
And the whole Hostler family had stood back while she pushed herself into their world and photographed everything from their poor source of water and their pitiful outhouse to their smiling faces after they’d stuffed themselves on some extra rabbit Ryan and Livvy had brought with them, along with potatoes and carrots.
Ryan didn’t totally understand what she had up her sleeve with that camera of hers, but he sensed the wheels of her mind turning each time she looked around. All she’d said was she planned to use the pictures for good.
Hope filled her eyes, and all he could think of was kissing the woman. Kissing her until she was clinging to him for more.
With Chad, Ryan discussed some ideas for improvements that would get them by but not for long. Chad admitted he wasn’t a great shot with a rifle, which was why he was struggling to feed his family, so they spent some time on target practice.
In the end, Ryan was at a loss for what to do to help out more. He could chop wood till his arms turned to jelly but any heat they’d get into their cabin would be lost through that flimsy tarp wall.
One of the boys cried out in victory, overtaking Livvy’s king in the strange variation of checkers she’d created, played with rocks on a game board scratched in the dirt with a stick. They also munched on hard candy she’d brought.
Ryan’s heart grew warm. She was great with kids. She deserved to settle down with someone and have a brood of her own.
But that wasn’t him.
The fact it couldn’t be him stung like he’d chopped off a limb and dumped an entire bottle of antiseptic on the raw wound. He was a realist—had gone to war knowing what could happen to him and it had.
So he knew damn well what was going to happen when she left. His life would be so empty. So… alone.
Wasn’t that what he’d wanted out of life when he came to the mountain? A few days with a sweet, soft, sassy woman around had flipped his world upside down just as fast as that grenade had.
He glanced at her neck. She had a scarf knotted there, but back at his place, she’d been unperturbed when he’d looked at the scar. In fact, she’d given him a look of challenge, almost daring him to say something.
What could he say? She was brave—braver than him. She’d ventured out into the world, continued on with her life after that incident in Afghanistan, and he’d turned inward and hidden from the world.
The dogs took off barking at the edge of the clearing and then Roshannon appeared on horseback, ducking under branches and then drawing the horse to a stop. The little boys jumped up from the game with Livvy and cheered a greeting. Obviously, Aiden had visited them before.
They rushed forward, and he slid from his saddle. Ryan got up from his crouch, taking a second to stretch his stiff leg before he was able to get it solidly beneath him. As he approached his friend, Aiden tossed him a grin and a nod. Ryan knew he was gloating over Ryan getting off his side of the mountain and out of his own head and socializing.
Livvy crowded next to his side, and he couldn’t stop himself from slipping an arm around her and drawing her into him. The feel of her warm curves spread more than desire through him.
If there ever was a woman who could make it up here with him, it was Livvy. A regular bush woman, who knew everything from how to skin rabbits to games to entertaining small boys, she came with skills. And she didn’t seem to mind living without electricity or bath water she didn’t have to boil.
Aiden started stripping supplies off the horse. Foodstuffs, blankets, an ax sharpener and several more tarps as well as dog and pig feed.
The family thanked him profusely, and Chad was back to burning up with a blush at receiving help, though he took it with grace. When Aiden faced Ryan, they clasped hands and bro-hugged. Livvy looked on, smiling. He wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t snapped a picture or two of the moment, knowing her. But he didn’t care either.
“What do you say about getting more of these tarps up on your cabin until we can do something more permanent?” Aiden suggested to Chad.
“Yeah, that’s a great idea. I’ll get my hammer and nails.”
Aiden started to follow, but Livvy caught his arm. Surprise flitted over his face, and Ryan zeroed in on what was happening.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked Aiden.
Ryan moved closer.
“Sure thing. What’s on your mind?”
She cupped her camera in both hands and leaned closer to speak quietly. Ryan drew into the circle to hear. “I have an idea about how to help the Hostlers. They can make it if we get them squared away up here and teach them how to continue on their own. It’s their dream to stay on the mountain. But to start, we need more than a few supplies, though you guys have been so generous.” She looked to Aiden and then Ryan.
He opened his mouth to say it had been her generosity as
well, but then again, the supplies belonged to him. She was his guest and had no say in what he did with his things. So why did it feel like she belonged with him and should share in everything he had?
“I took a lot of photos. I’d like you to take them into town and see what you can do about displaying them, to newspapers or on fliers, maybe even TV if you could swing it. To start a fund to assist people who need help like the Hostlers, helping them get what they need to get on their feet while they learn what it takes to survive up here. And not only homesteaders like them. I’m sure they’re not the only ones struggling in these parts and many people could use weatherproofing of their homes or new windows, help with bills in town even.”
She shrugged as both men just stared at her.
Aiden shot Ryan a look. “She’s damn smart. How’d she get involved with you?”
“Hell if I know.” His rumbled reply sounded much gruffer than he felt. Inside, his chest was melting with warmth at her ideas and the fact that Aiden believed she’d actually stay with him.
He wasn’t so certain of that, but he would enjoy the moment for now. Later the doubts and fears would creep in.
“On the thumb drive are other photos you might be able to sell to get the fund kicked off.”
“Photos you were taking earlier of the views?” Aiden asked.
She nodded. “There are some that will be worth something if put into the right hands. I’ll give you a name and number of someone who could help you with that.”
“I’d be happy to help. And this trust fund is something my family will get involved in. It’s right up my brothers’ and parents’ alleys.” Aiden reached out and hugged Livvy then pocketed the thumb drive.
Livvy embraced him back but her gaze was set squarely on Ryan. The happiness in her eyes blazed a path through his body, not to his groin but straight to his heart.
Today he’d learned a lot about humanity and himself. That extending aid to people again felt so good. He wasn’t as selfish as he’d thought and was glad to help the Hostlers. Even happy to see his old friend Aiden.
Also, he wasn’t as introverted as he’d believed or maybe once had been.
And he realized he was totally freakin’ in love with Livvy.
Chapter Eight
Ryan woke with a start, breathing hard, the dream a burning missile shooting across his brain. Afghanistan again but this time he wasn’t saving Livvy from the blast. This time he hadn’t gotten to her in time.
He swallowed hard against a dry lump lodged in his throat and stared at the woman lying next to him. The blanket had slipped from her naked shoulder and her bright hair that seemed to glow even in the dark of the cabin was her only covering.
A glance at the skylight told him it couldn’t be more than 1:00 a.m. Dammit, it was going to be a rough night if the dreams had woken him so quickly after he’d fallen asleep.
Careful not to jostle Livvy too much, he sat up and swung his feet over the side of the sleeping pallet. Spring nights were still cold but he welcomed the rush of air around his bare legs, though it made his injured thigh ache.
He scrubbed a hand over the pitted muscle and stood. Livvy didn’t stir.
Having her here was bringing the dreams on more and more. After a year alone, he’d gotten to the point where his nighttime sorties were only happening once a week or so. But the past week it had been nightly.
He grabbed the canteen and drank some of the water, leaving enough for Livvy when she woke. Then he leaned against the table and watched her sleep as he willed his racing heart to slow.
Fuck, he hated her being in any sort of dangerous situation and just her being on the mountain was a daily brush with death. She could wander to the stream to get water and face down a brown bear. Or make one of her morning treks to the edge of the mountain to shoot the landscape and fall.
Shaking himself, he drank more water. It was clear she couldn’t stay here. Or return after her Alaskan assignment, for that matter. He couldn’t allow her to put herself in this situation a second time. What was he going to do?
For a week they’d been busting their butts between the Hostlers’ place and his own. Livvy never complained about the hard work, only took it on like a missionary building housing for orphans. Which she’d probably done in her lifetime.
The woman was talented, smart, world-savvy. So why was she sticking around a grumpy, used-up former Marine with a bum leg and two fewer fingers to explore her body with? She needed—deserved—more.
He set aside the canteen and ran his fingers over his jaw. The beard was growing longer again and itching like mad. He’d either have to shave it off and keep up with the hassle of daily grooming or bear the itch.
Livvy turned over and one thigh slipped free of the blanket.
Ryan darted a look at her face, but she was still asleep. Each gorgeous feature was shadowed in the dim light of the cabin. The lines of her body brought out urges in him that he couldn’t even put into words.
He caught sight of her camera on the table and inspiration struck. Picking it up, he wondered how Livvy would feel to be on the other end of the lens.
Drifting closer to the bed, he raised the camera and checked that it wouldn’t flash and wake her. Then he snapped one photo of her entire pose, lips parted in sleep, shoulder and thigh peeking from the blanket.
He peeked at her over the camera. She hadn’t woken.
One pic wasn’t enough. Hell, now he understood her addiction. He’d found his muse.
He zoomed in to her face and snapped half a dozen. Then moved to her shoulder, zooming in close enough to spot the goosebumps spread over her flesh. His heart jolted with the need to protect and warm her.
Just one more photograph before he went to her and gave her his body heat.
Focusing on her thigh, he let his imagination run up the inner slope to the treasure between.
He set the camera down gently on the table again and walked to the bed, cock stiff and jutting out. When he slipped back under the blanket, covering her too, she shivered.
“You’re cold,” she murmured, not opening her eyes.
“Sorry. I was thirsty. C’mere. You’re cold too.” He drew her against him and breathed in her sweet scent mingled with his own traces on her skin. Lying next to her again brought the dream resurfacing in his mind.
Anything could happen on the mountain. If something happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. As it was…
He pressed a gentle kiss to the scar on her neck. At night when she removed the scarf, it hurt him to see it but during the day, the cloth knotted around her throat caused just as much torment. He couldn’t win.
With a sigh, she grew warmer until a sheen of perspiration glued them together. His cock throbbed against her thigh. One move of his hips and he’d join with her, tunneling deep into her intoxicating heat.
She opened her eyes and raised one thigh in invitation.
A faint growl left him as he cupped her ass in one hand and pulled her into his cock. Slipping into her tight sheath made his eyes roll back in his head and another groan to escape.
“Let me do the work.” Her breathless tone heightened his awareness as she rolled atop him, straddling his hips, legs spread wide and his cock buried to the hilt.
Grasping her hips, he helped her move. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Mmm. For a man who doesn’t like to talk, you sure do enough of it while you’re inside me.” Her tease came out in hiccupping start-stops as he plunged and withdrew from her pussy.
Silken warmth enveloped him and he could barely think of a response to her teasing words. So he drew her down and kissed her. A tender brushing of lips that turned carnal in a heartbeat. She jerked up and down on him as he claimed her mouth with deep passes of his tongue, tasting the toothpaste she’d used right before tumbling into bed with him.
Need made his balls clench tight, a pressure building so deep that he knew when he reached that pinnacle, he’d roar out his pleasure.
An
after-image of his dream flashed into his mind like a film negative held against the light, but he pushed it firmly away. She was safe, right here in his arms. Riding his cock.
“Oh God, Ryan.” Her breathy gasp told him how close she was to coming. His balls tightened more.
Clutching her hips hard, he helped her move faster up and down, the faint sound of their coupling filling the cabin. A wave hit him and suddenly he was… right… there.
“Sweetheart, come with me.” He ground the pad of his thumb into her clit and she stiffened. Two more rolls of her hips and she was squeezing the cum right out of him, drawing it up from his balls.
He came with a roar as she tipped over the ledge with him. Trembling, crying his name. He watched her face twist with ecstasy.
As the last jet left his body, his little angel was already lowering herself on his chest, their bodies still connected.
His heart gave a hard thump against his ribs. Stroking her damp spine, he whispered, “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe.”
Why the hell did he say that? He couldn’t promise such a thing.
“I know you will,” she murmured and fell fast asleep using his pec as a pillow.
“Hell,” he breathed out. His heart was firmly entangled in this affair and sending her away would break him just as much—if not more—than being evacuated from Afghanistan and waking to learn he hadn’t been able to keep her from harm.
A bigger man would send Livvy away.
He drew her closer with an arm around her back. Right now, he wasn’t strong enough.
* * * * *
Livvy woke to something tickling her nose. She twitched aside on the pillow, but the tickle returned. Then it wiggled into her nostril.
“Ah!” She opened her eyes and batted at whatever was crawling on her. Only to see Ryan standing beside the bed with a rare shit-eating grin on his face. She bolted to a sitting position, narrowing her eyes at him. “What were you doing to my nose?”
He held up a broad hand and wiggled his pinky.
“You stuck it up my nose?” She clapped a hand over the body part and glared at him like it was a true violation. It was—of her sleep.
