Page 95 of Mountain Man

“And not for crappy reasons,” Misty had said. “No guilt, no drama, no trauma. You can come to Emmett’s games and have dinner at my place. Imagine that.”

She meant it, too. Misty had pulled her shit together and this time, it felt like the real deal. But if something went sideways, I’d be closer to home.

I should have been ecstatic. I’d gone from working a crap job in Clearwater to landing a bougie gig in Richmond. I’d saved money, helped my family, and had spent an incredible year in Vermont. I’d learned so much and met some wonderful people.

I’d met Reg.

The thought of leaving him was like a knife in the gut. Survivable with the right treatment, but it was gonna scar.

I didn’t want to think about that now. We still had time, and I didn’t want to waste it on⁠—

“You’ll be happy to know that the missing fasteners were located in the warehouse.”

Oh. Right.

Artie had a way of popping up out of nowhere and saying shit that made no sense. Like he was testing me. I stared blankly at him over my computer monitor until the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

“The missing nuts. What do you know? I forgot about those.” I pushed away from my desk.

“I didn’t. They were found in a bin behind a pallet of four-by-fours.”

“And they just…reappeared?”

“Apparently so.” The older man added, “They went missing on your watch, but they were found on your watch, too.”

“Magically, no less.”

Artie bristled. “Those items were missing for nearly seven months, so I really wouldn’t call that magical.”

I wouldn’t either.

Small towns were funny. I strongly suspected that Artie had hoped to set me up for a little petty theft. Nothing serious. Just something that would throw a little shade during my tenure at Mill Depot. If Emmett hadn’t shown up last summer, it might have worked. His presence had forced me out of my shell. Summer camp, going out for ice cream, meeting friends at the park…meeting Reg.

Artie was a dumb shit, but he understood that framing the chief’s buddy for a few missing screws was a high-risk, low-reward venture. However, I was leaving soon, and the store manager was back to gunning for my job.

“Hmm. Well, thanks for letting me know.”

He held out a hand. “You’re welcome. I’d like to wish you well in your future endeavor, Waylon.”

“Thanks.”

“And if you’re inclined, I’d like to ask you to put in a good word for me with Cooper.” See? Artie knit his brow. “You’re not planning on returning to Wood Hollow, are you?”

I met his gaze and shook my head. “No.”

“Excellent! I—” He cleared his throat noisily. “We’ll miss you, of course.”

“Of course. Good luck, man.” I stood and peeked at the time. “Gotta run. I don’t want to be late for my flag football lesson.”

Okay, it wasn’t really a lesson.

As the days slowly grew longer and warmer, Reg and I had started tossing the football after work. We met at the park or his house. If Rhys and Gretchen were scheduled to stay with their dad, they joined us. Sometimes friends showed up, which made it more of a real game with flags and rules. Beau, Lyle, Micah, and Casey came after a day at the mill. Or Dex and Viggo met us at the park with their kids. Cooper and Silas, Chase and Ivy came by the house. Layla and her family, and Troy and the Elmwood med student he was on and off again dating.

Coaching me in all things flag football had become a community endeavor ’cause in a twist, Dex hadn’t been joking about signing me up for the team. He didn’t seem bothered that I was leaving in the middle of April.

“You’ll be here for a few preseason scrimmages and opening day. We’ll take it! You can’t tell anyone that you lived in Wood Hollow and never played our sport. It’s not right,” Dex had insisted.

Viggo had grunted in agreement, a toddler on one hip and a gurgling six-month-old on the other. “He will not give up. He will pull you from your bed and torture you with jalapeño cheddar donuts till you throw in the white shirt.”