Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry. I have to leave. I love you but I need this.”
This was right after she said “yes” to my proposal.
Right after we promised to stay by each other’s side no matter what.
Right after the whole town knew we were going to get married.
Then when I’m trapped in my cabin during a thunderstorm, I see her.
I wish I could just ignore her and move on, the way she so clearly has.
But I cannot.
She’s like a fire in my blood I can’t extinguish. An itch I can’t scratch.
And I underestimate how she can royally f*ck up my head just by looking at me.
It’s infuriating how, even after all these years, she still manages to slip under my defenses so easily.
One minute, I’m standing on solid ground, sure of everything.
Next, the ground completely shifts under me, tilting my world on its axis, rearranging my entire life. I was sure I could keep my distance from her and keep my hands to myself.
But the moment she shows me an ounce of vulnerability, all my resolve crumbles to dust.
Good f*cking riddance.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
MATTHEW
“...All the residents in the area … advised to stay indoors. Do not leave your homes or head outside unless absolutely necessary. Winds may reach … per hour, with possible flash floods … low-lying areas and the … Stay tuned for more…”
I smack the radio one more time, only to hear nothing else but static. Well, shit. There goes my plans for the weekend. I guess the coffee table I promised Mrs. Smith will have to wait until next week. There’s no way I’m leaving the comforts of this cabin. Not in this weather.
Besides, the thunderstorm doesn’t worry me. Weather like this isn’t common in Sweetheart Falls but not totally unheard-of either. Which is why, when I made this cabin, I took extra steps and shelled out extra money to ensure it could withstand the harshest, most unforgiving weather conditions. Being out here in the mountains, I couldn’t take any chances, and the last thing I wanted was to keep packing my bags and moving somewhere else just because of a storm.
I’d rather stay at home and wait it out. Thank you very much.
I may be far away from the town center, but this place is well-stocked. I have enough provisions to last me a year, no joke. Am I a doomsday prepper? Absolutely not. Do I prefer being alone and hate going into town for small talk while I buy cans of beans and a few bottles of beer? Hell yes. I do my groceries maybe once every four months, and I don’t enjoy every single minute of it.
People call me Mountain Matthew, and I don’t mind. Not one damn bit.
Standing on the terrace with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and my golden retriever, Goldie, at my feet, I look at the rolling clouds, the darkness swirling like ink spreading in water. The clear blue sky from yesterday is gone and replaced by a shade of charcoal.
Yep, I have no choice but to stay indoors until this clears up. I’ve been living in the woods for more than ten years now, and I always make sure to never go against Mother Nature. I learned that lesson the hard way.
Goldie whines softly, her ears perking up, her gaze fixed on a point beyond the trees.
“What is it, Gold? You hear something?”
A cool breeze sweeps through the trees, rustling the leaves and making me shiver. Time to go back inside and start the fire.
I’m about to turn around when I notice a flash of something bright. What the hell is that? Blinking hard and frowning, I grab the binoculars from the seat beside me, focusing on Goldie’s line of sight because her whole body tenses.
Jesus Christ. It’s someone wearing a neon green windbreaker and carrying a hiking backpack. Just then, the first distant rumble of thunder rolls through the valley, and a flash of lightning briefly illuminates the clouds.
Who the fuck is stupid enough to go camping in this weather? And alone, too? What are they thinking?
Cursing under my breath because I know—Goldie knows, the entire fucking Sweetheart Falls knows—that I’m about to sacrifice my warmth, comfort, and dryness to run after a total stranger, I sprint back inside and grab my own windbreaker.
I’m halfway through lacing my boots when Goldie bolts from the terrace and into the woods.
Fuck. I don’t have time to think as I grab my rifle, sling it over my shoulder, and follow my dog, who doesn’t even turn to me as I repeatedly call her name.
The cool wind bites at the exposed skin on my neck, and I know it won’t be long before the skies open up and soak me, Goldie, and whoever that other person is.
The rain isn’t as heavy yet, but I don’t dare risk it by dawdling. I want to get back to my coffee as soon as possible.
The branches scratch my clothes and face as I push through the underbrush. I finally catch up with Goldie, who looks at me like she’s not impressed with my speed.
“How about we just let the person die, huh? And go back to our nice, warm, cozy home?” Goldie barks at me and sprints to the right. “I was just kidding, Golds. Damn it.”
Lightning flashes again, and I catch sight of familiar landmarks—the massive fallen log covered in moss, the old oak with twisted branches, and my old knife’s X marks on the tree trunks.
Whoever that camper is, he or she is headed to the river. Hiking and camping alone are seriously dangerous, but staying by the river? It’s the mother of all bad ideas.
I didn’t have a high opinion of this person, to begin with, but I’m wondering if I should worry instead of their state of mind because no one—not even amateurs—would take this much of a risk.
Either way, I’m probably gonna end up offering them a room in the cabin. I can’t say I’m looking forward to that and having unexpected company, but I don’t have enough callousness in me to turn them away.