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  “Washington.” My gaze flies up to meet hers.

  She’s leaving after I just found her. I don’t know if I can let that happen. There’s something special about this girl, and I have the distinct feeling that nobody in her life sees it. Not the way I do.

  “Kind of far.”

  “Yeah.” She doesn’t offer more. And I don’t push. Not yet. There will be time for that later. After I’ve convinced her to confide in me. To trust me.

  “Mamma, hunggy.” Damien’s soft voice has her dropping to her knees next to him and digging through one of the bags she brought with her. Offering him two different options, he pulls open the bag to look for something else. When he doesn’t see it, tears well in his bright blue eyes as he stares up at the woman he obviously worships. “’Nana?”

  “I’m sorry, baby, I don’t have one.” Their interaction is so innocent that when I see her eyes gather tears, I feel a clench in my chest to protect these two from everything hurtful in the world.

  “I have bananas.” Assuming that’s what he wants.

  Her shoulders drop, and I can see she’s struggling to accept my offer. When Damien grasps one of the bags in her hand and slowly walks over to me, he offers the bag of crackers while asking, “’Nana?”

  It takes me a minute to realize what he’s doing. A huge grin spreads across my face. He wants to trade. “Deal, kid, let’s get you that banana.” Taking the bag he’s offered, he claps and runs back to his mother. Flinging his arms around her neck and climbing onto her body, she stands fluidly, like he weighs nothing, and smiles gratefully towards me.

  “Can I take those?” Reaching for the bags strapped on her shoulder, she hesitates before nodding and handing them over.

  Placing a hand on her lower back, I feel her spine tense, but I don’t move it. I’m not scared easily. And I won’t let her fear me. Not when what I want to do is worship the ground she walks on.

  “You should really put a shirt on. You’ll get sick.” The way she stares up at me—beautiful wide blue eyes with just a hint of concern—has me reaching for the flannel shirt hanging on a hook by the door.

  Slipping my arms in, I leave it open. “Better?”

  With an eye roll, she turns to me completely, Damien still in her arms, and reaches forward to begin doing up the buttons. I don’t move because I know once she realizes what she’s doing, she’ll drop her hands, and I don’t want that. I want her fingers roaming across every inch of my skin for as long as she wants. Preferably on a daily basis.

  “Better.” Her remark drops off as the realization dawns, and that adorable blush is back. “I’m sorry.” She pulls away, and I let her.

  “You need to stop apologizing for shit,” I tell her as we begin walking towards the house, snow crunching under our feet. Leaning down to her ear, I murmur, “You touch me whenever and however you like, anytime, Ema.” Her sharp inhale of breath isn’t missed.

  EmaLeigh

  True to his word, Sebastian traded Damien his bag of crackers for two bananas and then drove us home. The thoughtfulness in which he grabbed Damien’s car seat, so naturally before my mother took off, still has me off-kilter. Even as I’m putting Damien to bed, I can’t stop thinking about how Sebastian interacted with my son. The way he spoke to me.

  I’ve always been the family outcast, so I’m used to being berated, ignored, and insulted. So used to it, in fact, that I expect it from any people around me. In the last year, I haven’t ventured out for anything of need more than once a month, with the exception of the fall bazaars where I sell the mukluks I make and the polar plunge a few weeks ago. Since having Damien, I’ve become more and more isolated, and every day, I wonder if that’s my doing or my parents’.

  On the rare occasions I do go out, whether it’s for supplies or to get Damien out of the house and socialize, they always have something to say. A lot of times, they convince me to stay home. I know they’re embarrassed that I had Damien so young and out of wedlock, and they disagree with how I let Clayton off the hook. I’m reminded of it daily, and I feel my failures as a mom just as frequently.

  That’s why we’re moving. Nobody knows. I’ve done everything to ensure that when we leave, we won’t have to take anything but Damien’s favorite things, and because he’s very particular, it’s no more than a backpack full. I know it’s sneaky and slightly underhanded since they’ve allowed us to live here, but it’s the only way I know we’ll finally be free. We need to start a life away from this house. I need to know if getting away from Polar Bear and my suffocating family is what will help my son.

  Switching the light off next to his bed, Damien sleeps with the totem pole Sebastian gave him wrapped tightly in his fist. As soon as we got home, he asked for it. I didn’t even realize he’d noticed the small object that was given to him.

  Quietly closing his door, I make my way to the kitchen to steep a cup of tea to take to my room with me, where I plan to read a favorite old book of mine. Stopping short as I pass the living room, I cringe.

  “What’s with the sudden interest in the mountain man?” my dad asks, not turning away from the hunting show on the television.

  “Nothing. I just wanted to have something made for Damien.” He scoffs at my explanation. My parents are the most loving grandparents to Damien’s face, but behind his back and out of earshot, they take every chance they can to denigrate my decision to keep him. I don’t know if they even love him or not, and it breaks my heart because he is the sweetest little boy.

  “That man’s not going to want someone else’s sloppy seconds. Nobody wants children that aren’t their own either.” I know better than to defend myself when he’s like this. His bitterness over whatever his problem is can’t be reasoned with. As Christians, I know it was hard for my parents to accept that I not only had sex before marriage but conceived a child too, and I didn’t even want to marry the boy who got me pregnant. It’s been a stain on their reputation as far as they’re concerned.

  “I’m not looking for a relationship,” I respond quietly, fighting back the urge to question his own beliefs.

  Turning his head, I finally see that he’s not just being mean, but he’s drunk as well. “Just looking to get knocked up again.” He laughs at what must be a shocked look on my face. My mother snickers from her chair too.

  As the youngest of three children, I’m well aware that I’m the disappointment in the family. My oldest sister, Nancy, married our church’s pastor several years ago, and they’ve popped out four children already. None of whom Damien is allowed to play with in private. Only during public functions for the church or family. Our middle sister, Chloe, left just before I discovered I was pregnant. She and I were best friends our entire lives.

  As soon as I told her, she begged me to move to the lower forty-eight, where I could be closer to her. But she’s a freelance journalist who was globetrotting all the time. I wasn’t prepared to be a single mom and figure out life alone. But it’s because of her that we’re moving to Washington now. She works for a press company, and she’s found me a job where I can work from home and take care of Damien.

  Instead of getting myself that tea, I turn back around and head straight for my room. Tonight, I’m a swirl of emotions that I don’t know what to do with. Between my parents criticizing me and the feelings Sebastian has evoked in me, all I want to do is lay in bed and cry for a while. I wish that were possible, but I’m terrified that once I start, I won’t be able to stop.

  Damien needs me strong, not an emotional basket case on the verge of breaking. And the only way I know how to prevent that from happening is by pushing everything I feel to the back of my mind and ignoring it. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but for now, it’s all I’ve got.

  CHAPTER 2

  sebastian

  Blowing the sawdust off the circular piece of wood I just finished sanding for EmaLeigh and Damien, I recheck the time—just after ten. They’d have to be up by now. A kid that age, there’s no way he’d sleep in this late.
I’ve been up and working on this piece since just after six, the sun hadn’t even begun to rise yet, but I was eager to get this finished for her.

  It took nearly an hour to find the perfect piece of spruce from a haul of lumber I brought home this fall, and the last few hours, I’ve been sanding it into the ideal shape and getting it as smooth as possible. After spraying it with a protective coating, it’s ready to set before I begin carving in EmaLeigh’s design. Which means, I’m free to head into town and see if they’ve got plans for the day and, hopefully, bring them back up the mountain with me.

  The longer I spent with the two of them yesterday, the more I realized how much I wanted them in my life. I know Ema plans to leave in a few weeks, but I hope to change her mind. After spending the last six years up here by myself, logging in Ketchikan for most of the spring, summer, and fall every year, then coming back to work the winters away, I now know that it’s the love of a good woman that I’m missing from my life. The fact she has a boy already doesn’t matter to me, so long as she’s single. Even if she weren’t, I don’t know that that would stop me. If she has a man, then he doesn’t deserve her. Allowing her to come up into the mountains and be abandoned by her mother tells me all I need to know about his character. If he exists.

  I’ve been a reclusive mountain man for far longer than I should have, and I’m hoping I haven’t lost the ability to be around the opposite sex. Heading inside, I take a quick shower and dress in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and boots. Ignoring the beard growing on my face, I grab my flannel coat and head out to my 4Runner. As I begin driving down the mountain, I can see storm clouds rolling in and turn on the radio for a forecast.

  “A severe winter storm is predicted to hit the Polar Bear region sometime this afternoon with a predicted 10 inches of snow to land before midnight. Meteorologists are warning to have generators on hand and to be ready to be locked in for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” I listen a little longer to more warnings and suggestions, but I’m nothing if not prepared. I’ve been using solar power for years, and with storms like this, it’s always worked in my favor when the town has lost power.

  I know it’s selfish, but I’m hoping EmaLeigh hasn’t heard the forecast yet because I wouldn’t be disappointed if I could keep the two of them to myself for the next two days. The rest of my ride is done in silence as the sky darkens from the ominous clouds billowing in.

  Pulling into her driveway, I already know that even if she hasn’t heard the forecast, she’ll realize it from the looks of the sky. Parking, I jump out of my SUV and head up the walkway. Ringing the bell, no one answers, but I can hear a TV playing, so I knock loudly.

  A minute later, a grouchy old man answers, scratching his neck. “What do you want?”

  “I’m looking for Ema.” Peering around the guy, I’ve got several inches on him and can see her walking back and forth with Damien in her arms. Eyes closed as she whispers to him.

  “EmaLeigh!” the man screeches, and her eyes pop open, startled, just as Damien begins to cry. “The mountain man is here for used goods.”

  “What the fuck,” I snap, enraged that he would say that. He laughs and walks away as she rushes over, trying to calm the boy in her arms. “Who the fuck is that?” I bark, wincing when she does.

  “My father.” Her deep inhale shutters her body, and I can see dark circles under her eyes and weariness in her face.

  “Get your stuff; I’m taking you two out,” I demand, already knowing that’s not the best way to deal with her.

  “I…I can’t. I’m trying to get Damien to sleep. It wasn’t a good night.” Her lips thin as the boy’s hands ball her hair into his tight fists, likely yanking the strands from her head. She doesn’t even flinch.

  I’m not taking no for an answer, though. If this is how she’s treated at home, I won’t let her stay when I can help it. “Come on, I’ll help you.” Grasping her shoulder, I turn her body, and with some nudging, she guides me to Damien’s room. The boy watches me the entire time as tears flow down his cheeks. “Pack enough for a day or two,” I say, and she spins around, pinning me with an unreadable look. “There’s a terrible storm coming. You two don’t need to be cooped up here for that.” I get the feeling what I witnessed is only a portion of what she deals with daily.

  “We can’t just leave for two days. I don’t have anywhere to go, and even if I did, I couldn’t afford it.” I can see she wants to, though.

  Spotting the bag she had with her yesterday, I grab it and begin putting the toys on the boy’s bed in it, assuming they’re some of his favorites. “You’re not just going anywhere. I’ve got a few errands to run in town, then we can get whatever Dam likes to eat, and you’ll both ride out the storm with me. Infinitely more fun than being here, I’m sure.”

  She hesitates, even as Damien squirms to get down from her arms. We’re both surprised when he grabs his blanket, holds it up to me, and asks, “Bwing?” Nodding, I take it from his hands and see the totem I gave to him sticking out of his pants pocket. A slow grin spreads across my face. He’s how I get her to give us a chance.

  “Pillow too?” I ask him, and he nods, his little legs pushing him up onto the bed to grab it and hand it to me. “Anything else you want?”

  Seeing his mom still standing there, his head tilts as he asks, “Mamma?”

  Snapping out of her trance, she smiles and says, “Don’t forget your PJs.” Jumping from his bed, the boy dashes to his dresser and rummages around until he’s got what I assume is a favorite pair. It’s only a few minutes until Ema has everything they both need, and we’re back at the front door putting on Damien’s boots, coat, gloves, and hat.

  As I’m helping Ema into her own coat, her mother comes out of the kitchen, from the back of the house, with a towel in her hands, wiping them. Dropping her hands on her hips, she looks her daughter up and down with more censure than I’ve seen a parent give their child. “You’re really going to make the same mistake again, aren’t you? Sleep around until you’re knocked up again. Disgrace this family more than you already have.”

  “Mom, please, not with Damien here.” The plea in her voice has me stepping in.

  “Go get him buckled in.” I hand her the keys, the car seat by the front door from yesterday, and push them out of the house, keeping hold of their bags. Once the pair is out of earshot, I stare at the woman until she squirms. “I don’t know you, don’t care to, but the way you treat EmaLeigh is beyond fucked up. The fact she gets more consideration and care from me, a virtual stranger, is more telling about your character than hers.”

  She scoffs. “She’ll be back once she’s got another brat from you. At least you’ve got money to help care for it.”

  The audacity from this bitch. “You’re right about one thing. I’ve got money, which means that they won’t be back. Knocked up or not, I have no intention of letting Ema or Damien near either of you again.” Walking out the door, I see Ema wringing her hands together outside the vehicle, and the stress in her eyes has me smiling to alleviate some of her anxiety.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Tossing their bags in the back, I place my hands on her shoulders and lean down, kissing her lips softer than I want to.

  “No need to be sorry. Some people don’t deserve their children. They’re those people.” Urging her in the passenger seat, I buckle her in before taking the driver’s side. “What do you guys need to be holed up on the mountain for a couple of days?”

  EmaLeigh

  The embarrassment and shame of my mother’s accusations haven’t left me since we drove away from the house. Before Clayton, before Damien, I would have told the world she was the best mother in the universe. She baked, she made dinner every night, homemade lunches for school. Was always at my cheer practices and helped me work on the routines. And then, I told her I was pregnant and that I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do, and the first thing out of her mouth was that I was going to hell. That she was ashamed of me, and I needed to pray
for forgiveness.

  I was so stunned I didn’t leave my room for three days. I couldn’t bear to see the shame she felt for me every time I looked at her. Damien will be three soon, and the look has never faded.

  “These ones?” Sebastian asks Damien holding up another box of cereal. Dam shakes his head and points to one higher up on the shelf. With Sebastian’s enormous height, he has no trouble grabbing it. When my son squeals his delight, Seb grins like he’s won the lottery or something.

  I have no idea why this guy is interested in us, but I can’t deny how good it feels. And after the soft kiss he gave me in front of my house, my attraction to him has intensified. “Mamma, coco?”

  “Hot chocolate?” Sebastian guesses.

  “Chocolate milk,” I correct him.

  “To the dairy aisle!” Sebastian dashes off with Damien in the nearly filled cart, and my little boy’s laughter as they glide down the store has my heart swelling. Damien has never taken so well to another man before. Not even my own father. Not that I blame him.

  As I approach the two of them grabbing a huge jug of chocolate milk, I spot a bottle of cold brew coffee in the cooler and nearly grab it until I see the price tag. Inflation has been an issue here for years and prevents me from getting anything I truly want for myself. Everything is about Damien.

  “Grab it,” Sebastian murmurs in my ear. When I turn my head, our lips brush across each other’s, and the heat in his gaze has me biting the corner of my mouth. His eyes drop and stare before he reaches in the cooler and picks it up himself.

  “I can’t afford that,” I tell him, and I see a thought flicker in his eyes. He wants to say something.

  “I’ll buy it; you get the milk.” I have the feeling that’s not what he was going to comment on, but I let it go because I think he understands why I can’t. And why I would pay the same price for the milk.