Mountain Refuge (Mountain Mutineers #1)

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Brooke

T hey’d been in my bedroom for over an hour. It annoyed me that I was excluded, but probably not for the reason it should. I didn’t like that Corbin was learning something about Adam that I wasn’t. To top that feeling off, I also didn’t like that Adam was confiding in Corbin, and not me.

Not what I would call rational feelings. Just a silly response that was not like me. I was not a woman who was prone to hysteria. Never had been. I made logical, sound decisions based on facts, not emotions.

It made absolutely no sense why it would hurt that Adam felt he could trust Corbin with his secrets and not me.

Lydia sat at the table, nibbling on the cinnamon apple crisps I made her. She was humming as she ate, swinging her little legs under the chair.

It reminded me of my sister and I sitting in the swings in our childhood backyard. We were thick as thieves back then. She was my confidant and I had been hers. We’d sit for hours in those swings—even into our teen years—giggling, sharing secrets, and telling stories.

A glance out my window brought my attention to a large tree on the edge of my property. It had a low hanging branch. Come spring, I could build a wood swing for it. I hoped Lydia would enjoy it. Henry too when he got older.

I could see it so clearly. Lydia laughing on the swing while I pushed her. Adam keeping a tight hold on Henry’s hands as he guided the walking toddler across the lawn. Adam’s and my eyes would meet and would burn with the remembered passion from the night before.

“Brooke?”

I jumped, pulled from the fantasy. Adam and Corbin stood in the kitchen doorway. Well, Adam stood in the kitchen doorway. Corbin was hunched down, so he wasn’t hitting his head on the frame.

“Hi, Daddy.” Lydia offered him an apple crisp from her pile.

“Hi, Angel.” He ducked his head and ate the crisp out of Lydia’s hand. “What do you have there?”

“Brooke and I made chips.”

I didn’t correct the girl on calling them chips instead of crisps, nor did I correct her having helped. Lydia’s version of helping was to stand on a chair and watch me slice, season, and bake. Lydia was so proud of her accomplishment of having made her own snack, though, that I couldn’t burst her bubble.

“You did?” Adam leaned over and placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “Nice job, Angel.”

He let her feed him one, praising her cooking skills as he ate it. His eyes, though, were on me. Our eyes held the other’s like magnets, unable to break away. My heart started thundering in my chest and I found it hard to breathe. The stress that had been weighing him down seemed less somehow. I wondered if, in telling Corbin his troubles, he felt freer. I hoped so. Above all else, whether I ever learned his secrets or not, I hoped he was able to lessen his burdens by confiding in his friend.

I just wished I was the one who could have relieved him of his troubles. That he had come to me , leaned on me , trusted me ?—

Corbin cleared his throat, breaking the intense staring between Adam and me. At his knowing look, I felt my cheeks burn.

This was the first time Corbin had ever been inside my cabin. He’d seen it from the outside numerous times but had never been invited in before. It made me wonder if his cabin was little. With his mother already living with him, did he have the room for one more adult and two children? Mind, neither child took up that much space now, but they would grow up.

I wanted to offer for them to stay. I wanted Adam to ask to stay.

I quickly scolded myself for that notion. Adam couldn’t and wouldn’t stay. He’d made it perfectly clear that protecting his children was his priority and he was putting my life in danger by staying. It also wasn’t like I had the spare rooms either. When I’d built my cabin, the prospect of having a partner and/or children had been ludicrous. The bigger the cabin, the more resources I would need to maintain it. An extra room meant an extra fireplace too. There’d been no point. Yet, I was regretting that decision now.

Maybe I could turn the loft into a bedroom? Our bedroom…

Stupid , I called myself yet again. I was acting like a lovesick teenager, trying to plot different ways to trick the boy I liked into dating me. I was far too old to play such games. And while my maturity level was currently up for question, I knew I needed to stop myself from hoping. Hope would only lead to heartbreak.

Adam would leave and he would take his kids with them. I would once more be alone. There would be no giggling Lydia in the kitchen taking credit for my cooking, there would be no watching Henry’s first steps or hearing his first words, there would be no swing in the yard, and no Adam to play twenty questions with.

For the first time in almost a decade, the idea of being alone was not a comforting one.

“The ride down here was a lot easier than I’d anticipated,” Corbin was saying. I hadn’t been paying attention to what he’d been saying, but that caught my attention. “As long as it doesn’t snow again, I think it’ll be safe to get you and the kids up to my land tomorrow.”

My stomach plummeted. The expected week I’d had with Adam just turned into one more night. It took all my concentration to keep myself from crying. Tears were senseless, they solved nothing. I’d learned that the hard way a long time ago. My nose burned with my efforts to keep mine at bay.

I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t bear to see the relief on his face that they would be leaving the next day. “I need to go check my stores.”

Then, like the coward I was, I fled the room.