Page 62 of Mountain Grump Protector

“You’re still hanging around, I see.”

Cal doesn’t miss a beat. “Still trying to get rid of me?”

Dad snorts, and I laugh at their repertoire. Cal and I were married three months ago. He’s not going anywhere, and we all know it.

A second truck rumbles outside, and a few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door before Bryson walks in. He’s still wearing his sawmill coveralls under his winter coat.

Beck has connections at the mill, and after Bryson cooperated fully with the authorities, he called in some favors and got my brother a job.

It was his last chance, and to my surprise, he took it.

Six months ago, I wasn’t sure my brother would even be able to stay out of jail, let alone hold down a job, but here he is, gainfully employed, and not only that, by all accounts, he’s actually doing well.

“What?” he says as his eyes land on me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I shake my head and laugh. “I'm just proud of you, that’s all.”

He waves his hand and my compliment away. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious, Bryson. I really am.”

“We all are.” Cal wraps his arm around me and looks at my brother. It wasn’t long ago that I wasn’t sure they’d be able to exist in the same room without Cal wanting to rip Bryson apart for all the trouble he’d gotten me into. Things have changed.

But not only is my new husband a fierce protector, but it turns out he also has a very forgiving heart under that grumpy exterior.

The truth is, Bryson still has a lot of growing up left to do. But now that Ronnie Hatch is gone— he was charged with enough to put him away for a very long time—something seems to have clicked with my brother, and he does seem to be on a better path now.

The afternoon passes quickly. I fill everyone in on my decision to start up my own home care business. Now that looking after people isn’t something I have to do, I’ve discovered that I actually quite like it. And I’m good at it.

It’s still in the planning stages, and I’m not in a rush, but I feel it in my heart that it’s the right thing to do, and Cal, as always, is so supportive.

We eat lunch together and listen to Dad complain about the hockey game and his home care worker, whom we all know he’s sweet on.

It feels normal, and for the first time since before Mom died, we feel like family again.

By the time we head up the mountain, the snow is falling. Not much. Not enough to make the mountain roads impassable. Too bad, though.

Being snowed in together, just me and my mountain man, cozy together in the cabin, wouldn’t be too bad at all. With Murph, too, of course. He’s never far from our sides.

I rest my hand over my stomach, which is only just starting to swell, and Cal reaches over to put his hand on top of mine. I can’t wait to see what kind of guard dog Murph turns into once the baby arrives.

It’s hard to believe that this mountain was once some place I was hiding.

Now, it feels like home, and there’s no place I’d rather be to build our family together.

Ten Years Later…

Cal

“Dad!”

The shout comes from somewhere in the back half of the cabin, in the expansion we put on years ago, followed immediately by a loud crash.

A second later, another voice.

“I did not!”

“He started it.”