Chapter 10 - The Mountain's Heart
Two years later, the timber lodge looked different.
An art studio had been built onto the western wing, its floor-to-ceiling glass windows looking out over a valley that glowed with the amber light of a late September sunset. Inside, canvases were stacked against the walls—bold, vibrant, full of raw life, capturing the untamed spirit of the mountains, the deep greens of the pines, and the fierce, protective grace of the creatures that called the ridge home.
On the front lawn, a small toddler with dark curls and stubborn green-gray eyes was currently attempting to tackle a very patient, enormous golden retriever while my mother laughed from the porch swing, sipping iced tea alongside Gavin.
I stood in the doorway of the studio, a mug of coffee in hand, watching the chaos unfold.
Arms wrapped around my waist from behind, heavy and warm, pulling me back against a solid, familiar chest.
“She’s going to run the whole pack by the time she’s five,” Rowan murmured into my hair, pressing a warm kiss against the temple.
“She gets it from her father,” I smiled, leaning back against him and letting out a long, contented breath. “Or maybe from the bear that tried to chase me off the road two years ago.”
Rowan chuckled, his chest rumbling against my back. “She was just welcoming you home, Chloe.”
“Next time,” I said, turning around in his arms to wrap my arms around his neck, “could we maybe get a welcome sign that doesn't involve heavy property damage?”
May you like
Rowan’s green eyes danced with laughter as he pulled me closer, sealing the rest of my words with a kiss that tasted like pine, hearth-smoke, and forever.
The road up the mountain had been steep and terrifying, but standing here, wrapped in the heart of the ridge, I knew I had finally found where I was supposed to be.
