Claimed by 3 Mountain Men (Silver Ridge Mountain Men)

4. Mac

4

MAC

A s I walk down Main Street, I take in the quaint storefronts, the diners with delicious aromas wafting out, and the friendly nods from passersby.

After a night in town, I’ll head out to camp.

The door to Silver Spur Salon jingles as I enter.

I order a local IPA, scanning the room for a spot to sit. I find a table near the window and settle in, my ears pricking at the snippets of conversation around me.

“It’s terrible what happened to Luke,” a woman at the table behind me whispers.

“I know, but at least his boys are back in town now. Maybe they can turn things around at the ranch.”

Curious, I eavesdrop shamelessly.

“I heard those brothers haven’t spoken in years,” a man replies, lowering his voice too. “They’re all back in town now.”

”What happened to Luke?” I ask, feigning ignorance as I turn to them.

The two women meet my gaze with cautious expressions. “You haven’t heard?” the first woman asks, staring at me completely dumbfounded.

“No, I’m new in town,” I say, offering a polite smile. “I’m just here for some research.”

The second woman, a bit older and with a more sympathetic look, leans in slightly. “Luke Truitt died recently. It was sudden and unexpected.”

“Oh my, that’s terrible. How did it happen?”

The first woman glances around as if to ensure no one else is listening, then lowers her voice even more. “They say it was an accident, but some folks think there might be more to it. The Truitt family’s logging business has been under a lot of pressure, and Luke was known to push the boundaries a bit.”

“Push the boundaries?”

She nods quickly, but doesn’t speak on the matter further.

“You think the Truitt brothers will keep the business going?” I ask.

“That’s the million-dollar question,” the man chimes in, a gleam in his eye. “Rumor has it they’re at each other’s throats already.”

“You know them well?”

They all laugh in unison like I’ve said something ridiculous.

“Honey, everyone knows the Truitt’s.”

The older woman presses her hand to her chest.

“Hank dated my third daughter.”

“Oh, wow.”

She nods proudly.

“So, the brothers are named Hank, Jack and ...” I ask.

“Ben,” the man finishes.

“Thank you,” I say.

I wait for them to expand before realizing they won’t. As the women return to their conversation, I sip my beer and stare out the window, my mind racing.

“Well, look who it is,” the older woman exclaims under her breath.

A hush falls over the room. I turn to see what’s captured everyone’s attention and my breath catches in my throat.

The Truitt brothers have arrived.

Leading the way is JT, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room with an intensity that’s hard to ignore. He’s dressed casually, a leather jacket over a fitted T-shirt, his jeans and boots look well-worn.

“That’s JT” the older woman whispers into my ear, leaning over the booth. “Then Ben.” She continues, pointing to the second one with sandy blond hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. He’s dressed in a flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exposing strong, work-hardened arms, and sturdy jeans.

“The third one is Hank. The one who dated my daughter.” She gestures to the man bringing up the rear. His hair is thick and unruly, falling into his dark blue eyes. His movements are fluid and almost feline.

Identical Triplets. I had no idea. I remind myself to shut my mouth as I stare at the three copies. All gorgeous and covered in thick, corded muscles.

These are the men who hold the answers to many of my questions, the men who could either help or hinder my research. The men who, unknowingly, have already started to impact my life in ways I’m only beginning to understand.

I take a deep breath and remind myself why I’m here.

To blend in, gather information, and leave without drawing attention to myself. But it’s too late, JT turns and locks his eyes on me just as I’m about to turn away. Under JT’s penetrating stare, I can’t shake the feeling he’s already seen through me.

I’m screwed.

The chatter in the bar picks back up, but it’s like white noise as I watch the Truitt brothers stride up to the counter. They order drinks and take a seat in a corner booth with their backs to the wall, keeping an eye on the room.

My heart thuds.

The evening wears on, and I keep an eye on the brothers, wondering how our paths will cross next. There’s no doubt in my mind that JT remembers me.

I should get out of here before he tries to strike up conversation.

I step outside for a breath of fresh air, the cool night breeze a welcome relief from the warmth of the bar. As I turn the corner, I nearly bump into JT, who’s leaning against the wall, a half-smile playing on his lips.

“Well, fancy seeing you here, Mac,” he says, his voice smooth and inviting.

“JT,” I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral. “I didn’t expect to run into you so soon.”

“It’s a small town.” He steps closer, the intensity in his eyes making my pulse quicken. “How’s your first day in Silver Ridge been?”

“Interesting,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “It’s nice here. Quiet. I’ve learned a bit about it. About the people here.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that so? And what have you learned about me and my brothers?”

I take a deep breath, deciding to just be honest. “I’ve heard a lot about your family’s business. Some good, some not so good. I’d like to know more about it from your perspective.”

His smile falters slightly, a shadow crossing his face. “Our business isn’t exactly cocktail party conversation, Mac. But if you’re interested, maybe we can discuss it over dinner sometime?”

I meet his gaze, trying to gauge his sincerity. “I’m here to work, JT. I need to understand the impact your logging has on the environment, particularly on the silver lynx.”

He steps even closer, the heat of his body palpable. “And you think you can get those answers by asking them in a bar?”

“Maybe,” I reply with a shrug, my heart pounding. “Or maybe you’re trying to avoid the questions.”

His eyes narrow, a flash of irritation breaks through his charm. “I’m not avoiding anything. But this isn’t the place for that kind of discussion.”

“Then when?” I ask, not backing down. “When can we have a real conversation about what’s going on?”

Before JT can respond, Ben and Hank appear at his side, their expressions a mix of curiosity and protectiveness.

“What’s going on here?” Ben asks.

“Just a friendly conversation,” JT says, though his tone suggests otherwise. “Mac and I sat next to one another on the flight here.”

“That’s right,” I say, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’m Mac Redfern.”

“She’s a researcher, studying the environment here.”

“Look, we’re not the bad guys,” Ben says defensively. “We’re just trying to keep the business going and protect our family’s legacy.”

“I understand that,” I say, softening my approach slightly. “But I need to know more about your practices and how they’re affecting the environment.”

A spark of intrigue lingers in all their eyes.

“What happened, Mac? I thought we were friends?” JT asks.

“Sitting beside one another on a flight makes you friends?” Ben tilts his head, glancing between us.

For some reason, I feel like a cornered prey being hounded by three hungry wolves. I lean against the wall, keeping my expression cool.

“We had a pleasant conversation, that’s all.” I say finally, not wanting to divulge too much in front of them.

“Well, if you’re interested in learning more about our business,” JT says, his voice low and dangerous. “Why don’t you join us at the lodge sometime. We can show you around and answer your questions.”

“Why wait to meet when we are together right now? No time like the present, right?”

His lips falter into a cold smile.

“Right. Fine. We have nothing to hide. What do you want to know?”

I take a deep breath, seizing the opportunity. “Start by telling me about your logging practices.”

“Can we not do this right now?” Hank asks, shaking his head.

“Why?” I press.

“I’m happy to talk about anything you want to know, Mac,” JT cuts in.

His eyes are fixed on mine, and I can’t help but notice the flecks of gold in his irises.

“Tell me then. Tell me about how much forest you cut through monthly.”

“We’re not just cutting down trees willy-nilly. We only take what we need and replant three for every tree we harvest.”

“Then why is most of the forest surrounding Silver Ridge nearly destroyed?”

“Woah,” JT holds up his hands. “That’s not true at all.”

“Over three hundred thousand acres of woodlands haven’t grown back after your family cleared them.”

“That’s because of the wildfires, Mac.”

“Then why have there been none reported in the last decade? Surely you would have taken measures to restore what was lost in that amount of time.”

Their faces darken, and I know I’ve hit a nerve.

“We’re not at fault for every tragedy that befalls this town,” Ben says, folding his arms over his chest.

“Quite frankly, I’m surprised you know so much about our business and the land around here. Surely, you didn’t fly all the way out to little Silver Ridge just to interrogate us?” JT asks, his gaze piercing into my very soul.

“I’m sorry if I care about the environment.”

“No one said you didn’t. But it seems like you have a personal vendetta against us.”

I open my mouth to refute his words but swallow them instead. He’s right. They don’t know half of it.

“I just want to understand how you can ruin such a lovely, diverse habitat.”

“We don’t want to ruin it, Mac. We love this land as much as you do,” Ben says.

Hank steps back shaking his head.

“I’m getting another beer. We’ve talked to hundreds of people like you before. You’re not interested in the facts.”

“I could say the same about you,” I say sharply.

“Come on, JT,” Ben says, tilting his head toward the door to the bar. “Let’s go.”

I clench my jaw.

“Go on then. Avoid the conversation.”

“It’s not that we want to avoid the conversation,” Ben says. “It’s that we’ve got a hell of a lot of other shit going on right now.”

“Your dad…right. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

JT tilts his head studying me.

“Are you?”

“Of course.”

“Because I know your type.”

“Type?” I scoff, crinkling my nose and hardening my gaze.

“Sure. Save the animals. Save the planet. Protect the forest. All of you are the same. Showing up, causing a scene then leaving without making a difference or helping any of the damn things you claim to care so much about. And you all hated my dad. Despised him.”

"I didn’t know your dad, JT. I’m here to find out the truth and see what can be done to protect the environment and the silver lynx, an endangered species.”

“Words are cheap, Mac. Actions are what matter. And right now, your actions are telling me you’re here to stir up trouble,” JT says.

“Maybe I am here to stir things up,” I say, stepping closer, refusing to back down. “Because sometimes that’s what it takes to get people to listen.”

He steps closer to me, towering over me like a brick wall.

“Then let me make it clear to you. I am in no mood to be dealing with trouble.”

“Me neither. So, you can help me by answering my questions, or I’ll find the answers myself. It’s your call.”

A cold, curling smile spreads onto his lips.

“My God. I don’t think you understand who the hell you’re talking to right now.”

“I’m sorry, am I treading on your manly ego? Protecting the land and the animals that live here are more important to me than your feelings. Trust me, I’m fully aware of who you are.”

He grabs my arm roughly, pulling me close to him. Our faces only inches apart.

“Then you’d know not to mess with me, Mac,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Not to mess with me or either of my brothers.”

The outside suddenly feels hot, and I’m painfully aware of the heat radiating from his body.

My heart pounds, but I refuse to back down. “Is that a threat? Because I’m tougher than I look.”

Suddenly his grip softens, and he gently strokes my cheek with his knuckles, sending chills down my spine.

“No, Mac, that was a promise.”

I swallow hard, cursing myself for the thousandth time for noticing the flecks of gold in his eyes or inhaling his cologne which smells of pine and cedar.

“I’ll be watching you, Mac,” he calls over his broad shoulder after he releases me. “Remember that.”