Stranded with the Mountain Man (Log Cabin Christmas)

Chapter Four

Ryder

“Please, don’t make this into a big deal. It’s just a cut, that’s all,” Charlotte says, blood oozing from her thumb.

“Too late for that.”

I clean the cut with antiseptic, cursing myself for handing her a recently sharpened knife. I should’ve thought this through better. I knew she could get hurt, and she did. This is all on me. Charlotte’s my responsibility, and I blew it.

“Ryder.” Her voice is soft, her gaze flickering up to meet mine. “I’m fine.”

“Even the smallest of cuts can get infected,” I say as I wrap a bandage around her thumb.

She opens her mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand, cutting her off. “You have no idea what can go wrong when you’re out in the wild. A few summers ago, I was out on the trails with a guy I know. He slipped while we were clearing a path, and I couldn’t reach him in time. He got banged up pretty bad and fell to a nearly unreachable area. By the time the guys of Bearclaw Rescue reached him in that difficult spot, his condition was critical, and he… well, he didn’t make it.” I grit my teeth as I remember the panic that coursed through me, the helplessness of watching him struggle. I swore to myself I’d never let something like that happen again.

“I can’t bear the thought of losing someone else,” I continue. “Promise me you’ll be more careful in the future.”

She nods, understanding crossing her face. “That’s why you prefer being alone, don’t you? With fewer people around to be worried about, the chances of having your heart broken like that decrease.”

Fuck. It’s like she hit me right where it hurts. As if the wound is exposed and she’s pointing at it. But she’s also the only one who has ever made me feel truly seen and understood.

“Yeah,” I finally say. “Now I don’t have to watch anyone get hurt. Or worse.”

Her eyes soften, and I know it’s not out of pity. She gets it—how much that moment messed with me. I thought I could control everything out here alone, but there’s always that split second where everything goes to hell, and I can’t stop it from happening.

“Ryder, you can’t keep everyone safe,” she says softly as if reading my mind.

“Maybe not.” I hold her gaze. “But I’m not taking chances.”

Especially not with her.

It’s not just her safety I’m worried about. It’s more than that now. In the hours we’ve been together, I’ve come to care about her more than I can put into words. It’s like this wasn’t a coincidence. No, her landing on my doorstep was fate ensuring we crossed paths.

Because we belong together.

I swallow.

I know it’s the truth. Charlotte belongs with me.

“So, now what?” I ask.

“Maybe we should do something else, like make this place festive. You do know it’ll be Christmas soon, right?” she asks, looking around the cabin with a frown.

She’s trying to lighten the mood, and I’m grateful. The last thing I want right now is to think about everything that’s gone wrong in my life and all the people I’ve lost.

“Christmas? What do you mean? I could’ve sworn it was still August,” I say, playing along.

“You don’t have any decorations lying around we can use?”

I arch an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Charlotte laughs. “You’re right. Probably not the kind of stuff you’d keep in a cabin you use for emergencies. Although this is a Christmas emergency. Maybe we can carve some ornaments and decorate the cabin with them?”

I hesitate. I don’t know if handing her a knife again is the best idea, but she’s right. The place could use a hint of festive vibes. I’ve spent years running away around the holidays because I always felt like I had nothing to be merry about, but things are different now that Charlotte’s here.

Ugh, fuck. I could kick myself. Why would I get used to having her near? She’s only here to wait out the blizzard. After the storm clears, I’ll drive her down the mountain and send her on her merry way. I’ll probably never see her again. She’s going home to celebrate Christmas with her family. When I look back on today, it’ll probably seem like a fever dream. I’m losing her.

Except… that’s not what I want. I want her. For more than a day or a night or however long this blizzard lasts. I want her to stay.

I snort at the ridiculousness of my thoughts. Falling for someone I only just met? I don’t believe in instant love. Then again, I can’t deny how I feel. No matter how ridiculous it sounds, the warm emotions I have for her won’t budge.

“Something funny?” Charlotte asks, a mix of amusement and confusion dancing in her beautiful eyes.

I shake my head. “Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. So, you want to carve Christmas ornaments, huh? Let’s do exactly that, then.”

She nods and offers me a warm smile. I’m grateful she doesn’t push me, demanding to know what I was thinking about. I don’t know how I can even start to explain to her what she’s doing to me. How she’s making me feel things I thought I would never feel again. How she’s making my dick grow hard just by sitting this close to me.

I pick up the carving knife from where it fell on the floor and grab a fresh piece of wood. “I’ll make the first one. Any requests?”

“Maybe an angel?” she suggests.

I grin. “Like you.”

Her cheeks turn red, and she shakes her head. “Me? I’m not an angel.”

“Well, you sure look like one.”

Our eyes linger on each other, and the air between us thickens with something unspoken. Her blush deepens, but she doesn’t look away.

“Maybe you need glasses. Like me,” she says with a shy laugh.

“Don’t think so,” I reply, my voice low.

The tension between us tightens like a rope being pulled taut. I pick up the carving knife and start working on her angel ornament.

“I’ve never done this before, you know,” I confess.

“Making Christmas ornaments?” she asks, looking confused.

“Letting someone get this close. Opening up.”

The words are hard to say, but she needs to hear them. She needs to know she’s stirring things inside me that no one ever has. The words feel heavier than the wood in my hands, but I keep carving, focusing on the delicate shape of the angel’s wings, trying to steady myself. I haven’t let someone this far into my life in a long time.

Getting to this point has been difficult, but honestly? I’d do it all again if it meant getting to meet Charlotte. She’s worth every single roadblock.

“I’m honored you’re opening up to me,” she says. “I’m not even that special.”

How can she even think that? How can she see herself as ordinary when she’s a fucking angel?

“You’re pretty special, Charlotte. Never forget that,” I tell her before returning my attention to the ornament in my hands.

“So are you, Ryder,” she says softly.

I don’t look up to meet her gaze. If I do, I know I won’t be able to refrain from kissing her. And, shit, I want to kiss her. Want to keep her right here in Bearclaw Ridge. In my life.

But that’s not going to happen, is it? Tomorrow, she’ll be just another person walking out of my life.