Page 8 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

His shaggy brown hair curled around his ears and at the back of his neck. His jaw was covered in a dark beard that tried its best to hide the fact that its owner was likely quite handsome. His green shirt was strung tight across his biceps and broad shoulders. It showcased the corded muscles of his back.

Even from a distance it was clear that he was the quintessential mountain man, big and brawny.

My first instinct was to get closer. I wanted to see what his face looked like if his hands dropped. I wanted to see the breeze play at the curled ends of his hair. But besides his rugged appeal, there was something else drawing me in. Something that made me want to wrap my arms around his narrow waist and promise him it would be okay.

He had a tragic allure, one that screamed sorrow and loss. I knew that pain all too well. Recognition hit me in a flash and I spun around, hurrying back in the direction we’d come.

That man was up here to grieve, and we’d just intruded on his private moment.

Thea was right by my side as I hustled to the trees, doing my best to keep my footsteps quiet. I held my breath until we disappeared into the safety of the forest. Neither of us spoke as we hiked down the trail, retreating to the house.

“I hope he didn’t hear us,” Thea said.

“Me too. Do you know who that is?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen him before, which is strange. I know almost everyone in Lark Cove. I bet he’s just visiting. We get a lot of tourists who come up and hike in the mountains.”

I nodded as my realtor spotted us. “What did you think? Nice spot, isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Except when I took in the house’s exterior, my face soured.

The house was a tribute to midcentury modern design with a plethora of windows and odd roof angles. It was as far from my traditional taste as you could get, and to renovate this into my forever home, I’d have to change everything.

My head ached just thinking about the construction bill.

“I can tell you the sellers are motivated on this one,” my realtor said. “It belongs to a brother and sister who each live out of state. It was a vacation home for their parents, who have since both passed. It’s been empty for about a year now.”

Which explained the musty smell and the recent price drop.

“Can I think about it?” I asked him.

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Thea gave me a reassuring smile, then got into the back of the car. I took one last look at the house, frowned again, then turned toward the trail we’d come down.

Find some peace. I sent my silent wish to the man on top of the mountain.

Pushing the stranger from my mind, I went to the other side of the car and got in the passenger seat. We drove down the long gravel driveway, then took yet another gravel road, this one wider and more traveled, that led back to the highway. With a wave good-bye from Thea’s front yard, I promised my realtor I’d be in touch soon.

“How’d it go?” Logan asked the minute we came inside. Camila was crying as he rocked her in his arms and Collin was bawling into his leg.

“Uh, it was good,” Thea said, eyeing her children. “What’s going on here?”

Logan blew out a long breath and handed the baby over. “These two have gone on a nap strike. While I was trying to get Camila down, Collin climbed out of his crib. He started crying and woke her up. It’s been chaos ever since. Charlie escaped to her fort when the wailing started.”

Thea laughed, then nuzzled Camila’s cheek. “Come on, baby. Let’s go cuddle.”

Now that both arms were free, Logan picked up Collin and settled him on a hip. Collin rested his head on his dad’s shoulder and his eyelids sagged.

“So did you find a place?” Logan asked, swaying his sleepy boy side to side.

I sighed. “There are options. Nothing is perfect, but I guess it never is. I was actually thinking about driving by them all again. Would you mind if I borrowed the Suburban?”

“Not at all.” He led me to the kitchen and swiped keys off the counter, tossing them over. Then, as he headed toward Coll

in’s room, I went outside and to the garage.

It took me the entire trip through town to get used to driving a vehicle two times the size of my Mini Cooper, but by the time I headed up the gravel road toward the mountain home, I’d gotten the hang of it.