Claimed by 3 Mountain Men (Silver Ridge Mountain Men)

20. Jt

20

JT

I ’ve been out here since before dawn, the sky is just starting to lighten now, a dull gray that barely cuts through the darkness. The trees stand tall and silent around me, their branches heavy with the weight of the night’s frost. The only sound is the steady thud of my boots on the hard ground.

I couldn’t sleep. Too much tension, too many words left unsaid. I needed to clear my head, to put some distance between myself and… everything.

Her .

I run a hand over my face, feeling the roughness of my unshaven jaw, the cold biting at my skin. My breath comes out in puffs of steam, disappearing into the early morning air as I walk through the logging site, checking on the equipment, and making sure everything’s in place. It’s the only thing that makes sense right now—work. The one constant in a world that’s been turned on its head.

She’s dangerous.

I keep telling myself that, over and over, like a mantra. But it’s getting harder to believe it with each passing day. I see the way she looks at my brothers, the way she’s worming her way into our lives, and into our business. I know I should be pushing back harder, keeping her at arm’s length. But every time I try, there’s something in her eyes, something in the way she stands her ground, that makes me hesitate.

And that’s the last thing I can afford to do—hesitate.

I slam my fist against the side of the logging truck, the metal feels cold and unyielding under my hand. The pain shoots up my arm, but it’s a welcome distraction from the chaos in my head.

Last night, I let go. I let all my desires take over and cloud my mind. I gave into the wanting that I’ve tried so hard to ignore.

Goddamn it. She’s incredible. Her tight pussy felt like heaven wrapped around me, every sound that came out of her was enough to send me over the edge.

I need to stay focused. We’re in the middle of something big, something that could blow up in our faces if we’re not careful. The last thing I need is to get distracted by a woman who’s only here to dig up dirt on us.

But damn it, she’s different.

I see the way she’s trying to make a difference, the way she’s putting herself on the line to protect this land, and it’s… it’s admirable. It’s something I hadn’t expected. And it’s something I can’t afford to get caught up in.

I lean against the truck, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare out at the forest. The first rays of sunlight are just starting to break through the trees, casting long shadows across the ground. It should be peaceful, calming even, but all I can think about is last night—how close Ben was to her, and how Hank was so quick to defend her. How she looked at me when she walked into the kitchen, like she knew exactly what we’d been talking about.

I had known in that moment, I was going to fuck her.

And I had almost revealed too much. Revealed my fears, my insecurities, and most importantly, the depth of my feelings for her. Feelings that have been simmering since the moment I laid eyes on her.

I grunt out a sigh and push off from the truck. I need to move, need to get the blood pumping again. I start walking, aimlessly. The sun continues to rise and the forest around me begins to stir with life.

I’m not used to this, not used to feeling out of control. I’ve always been the one who keeps it together, who keeps the family in line, who makes sure nothing, and no one can shake us. But Mac… she’s doing just that. And it’s pissing me off.

But it’s more than that. It’s the way she had looked at me that first night, the way she always holds her ground even when I try to push her away. The way she makes me question everything I thought I knew about people like her, people who come in here, pretending to care, pretending to want to make a difference, but end up leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.

I want to hate her for it. I want to blame her for making everything so damn complicated. But the truth is, I can’t. Because there’s a part of me, a small, stubborn part, that sees her for what she is—someone who’s just as lost as the rest of us, trying to do the right thing in a world that doesn’t make it easy.

And that scares the hell out of me.

I push off the truck, running a hand through my hair as I start to pace, the cold air is sharp in my lungs. I need to get my head on straight, and figure out how to deal with this without losing sight of what’s important. But every time I think I’ve got it under control, she does something, says something, that throws me right back into the thick of it.

I glance back at the lodge, the windows are dark. Everyone is still asleep. Everyone except me, out here in the cold, trying to figure out how to keep my world from spinning out of control. And maybe, just maybe, try to figure out how to keep her from slipping through my fingers before I even get a chance to understand what the hell it is I’m feeling.

I lean against the side of the barn, and stare out into the woods, trying to get my head on straight. The last thing I need is Mac—some outsider—messing with everything Dad built. Everything we built. But now… hell, now it’s no longer that simple.

Poaching. On our land. Illegal as hell and organized.

And the worst part of it? The little voice in the back of my head that keeps whispering about Dad. That maybe, just maybe, he was involved in all of this. It doesn’t make sense, or fit with the man I knew, but the evidence is there, staring me in the face, and I don’t want to believe it.

I hear footsteps behind me, and I know who it is before I even turn around. Ben and Hank. Of course, they’d come out here to talk. They’re always the ones trying to patch things up, trying to find some way to smooth over whatever mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. But this? This isn’t some family squabble. This is different.

Ben leans against the truck, arms crossed, his expression hard but thoughtful. Hank’s are by his side, pacing like he’s wound up tight, trying to find the right words. I don’t make it easy for them. I don’t say a damn thing.

“You want to talk about it?” Hank asks, finally stopping his pacing to face me. His voice is careful, like he’s trying not to set me off.

“No,” I grunt, keeping my eyes on the tree line, as if staring hard enough at it might make the truth disappear.

“Well, we’re talking anyway,” Ben says, straightening up from the truck and crossing his arms over his chest. “Because this isn’t going away, JT. You know that.”

I don’t answer right away, just grit my teeth and try to block out the anger bubbling up inside me. Ben steps closer, his voice low and steady. “Mac’s not wrong about this. You saw the footage. We all did.”

“I don’t need reminding, Ben,” I snap, the words come out sharper than I intended. But he doesn’t flinch. He just keeps looking at me, waiting.

“JT,” Hank says, quieter now. “We’ve got to face it. Whoever’s running this, it’s on our land. You know we’ve got to deal with it.”

“And what?” I turn to face them both, my chest tight with frustration. “We just believe her? Take her word that this is all happening under our noses, that Dad was a part of it?”

“That’s not what she said,” Ben cuts in, he says the words calmly, but I can hear the edge in this voice. “She’s saying we’ve got a chance to stop it. To fix it. Whatever the hell’s been going on, whether Dad knew about it or not, we’ve got to face it.”

I shake my head, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “You don’t get it. If I believe her, then it means...”

Hank finishes the sentence for me, his voice softer, like he’s trying to make it easier to swallow. “It means maybe Dad wasn’t the man we thought he was.”

I close my eyes for a second, trying to block out the rush of emotions. Anger. Fear. Doubt. Everything I’ve been shoving down since we found out about the poaching. I don’t want to believe it. Can’t. But every time I look at that damn footage, every time I think about what Mac said, it gnaws at me.

“You’re afraid it’s true,” Ben says voicing my thoughts. He steps forward, his voice low but insistent. “You’re afraid that if we believe Mac, then Dad had something to do with it.”

“I’m not afraid of shit,” I mutter, but the words taste bitter in my mouth.

“You should be,” Ben says, meeting my eyes. “Because this is bigger than us, JT. It’s bigger than whatever Dad did or didn’t do. It’s about what’s happening now.”

Hank steps in closer, his voice is gentler than Ben’s but just as firm. “JT, Dad’s gone. Whatever decisions he made, whatever mistakes, they’re in the past. But we’re still here. We’ve got to clean this up.”

I shake my head again, frustration rolling like a wave inside me. “And what? Trust her? Trust that she’s not here to tear everything apart?”

Hank sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You think she wants to destroy us? Look at what she’s done. She’s out there trying to stop these bastards from poaching on our land. She’s not the enemy.”

“And what if she is?” I ask, my voice rising. “What if she’s just using us to get what she wants?”

Ben shakes his head. “She’s not, JT. She’s here because she cares. Hell, we all care about her.”

I pause, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. Ben isn’t just talking about the poaching ring anymore. He’s talking about her —Mac. And the truth is, I care too. More than I want to admit.

“We can’t let Dad’s ghost keep us from doing the right thing,” Hank adds, his voice quiet but firm. “We need to help her, JT. We need to stop this.”

I look between them, my chest tight, my mind racing. They’re right. I know they’re right. But admitting that means admitting that everything I’ve held onto—everything about Dad, about this land—it’s not as solid as I always believed.

And that scares the hell out of me.

I let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over my face. “If we do this... if we help her... we’re doing it because we need to protect this land. Not because of her.”

Hank steps up next to me, and claps a hand on my shoulder. “We’re doing it because it’s the right thing to do. And because we all care about this place, about our family, and about her.”

I don’t respond right away, and instead stare out at the woods again, my thoughts a tangled mess of doubt, anger, and something I can’t quite name. But deep down, I know Hank’s right. We can’t keep pretending this will go away on its own.

“You think that was his trap?” I ask them.

“I don’t want to believe it,” Ben sighs, “but if it isn’t his, then we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands here.”

"I think it's time we confront the problem head on," Hank says, his voice steady despite the heavy implication of his words.

Ben nods solemnly in agreement. "We've got to put aside our own fears about Dad's involvement." He looks at me, his eyes filled with determination. "JT, we can't let these poachers ruin what Dad built."

"But..." My voice fades into a whisper. "If he was involved..."

"If he was," Hank cuts in, "then it’s up to us to set things right."

Both of them remain silent, their gaze fixed on me. It’s as if they’re waiting for my approval, for me to lead the charge against this invisible enemy.

I sigh, pushing myself off the barn wall and standing up straight. My heart feels heavy in my chest, but I know they're right. Dad is not here anymore. It's all up to us now.

“Fine.” I say finally, meeting their eyes squarely. “Let’s help our little lady then.”