Page 7 of Snowbound Mountain Man

This much sugar can't possibly be good for my health, but I'll be damned if I let a single one go to waste.

When I hear that polite knock on my front door, I'm dropping everything to see what she needs.

She's got a far better-fitting coat on today. She must've made her way down to buy it after realizing the one she brought wasn't going to cut it. The faux fur around her hood brushes against flushed cheeks as her gloved fingers tangle together.

"Hey!" Surprisingly perkier today than before, she blinds me with her smile. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Not at all." Talk about an understatement. If I weren't leaning against my doorframe, the pull this woman has on me would have me already one foot out of the door. "What can I do for you, sweet girl?"

The pet name slips out before I can stop it, rolling off my tongue with effortless familiarity. Juniper visibly reacts, squirming under the weight of it. My eyes track down to her legs, wrapped in leggings far too thin to ward off this biting cold as they graze each other.

"Boxes," she blurts, the pink on her cheeks spreading to her ears. "I've, um, got a few of them full of Gregory's clothes. I wanted to donate them, but my car—"

"Yeah." Already nodding my head, knowing I have no intention of saying no, I turn away to collect my coat. Feeling her eyes follow, I shove my feet into my boots, trying not to waste a precious second. "We can load everything in the back. Don't want you sliding off the road, anyway."

It's her smile of appreciation that makes me almost stumble on my feet as I snatch my keys from the hook.

Making my way out of my cabin, she leads me over to hers. Allowing me to step in, I can't help but hesitate at the entrance.

Juniper notices. Her smile softens in what appears to be pity. Does she know? "You don't have to come in if it's too hard. I can drag them all up front."

Clearing my throat, I force one foot in front of the other, joining her. "It's fine. It's just strange being in here without feeling..."

I struggle to find the right word.

Hell, just looking at the rug in front of the couch makes me uncomfortable. It's where I found Greg unresponsive, after all.

There's a brush against my fingers, and it's Juniper who's squeezing my hand.

"I get it. I'm still not used to being here." Giving my stiff limbs a jumpstart by pulling me in one direction, we head toward his bedroom.

Boxes are already packed, lining the wall, making the bedroom look as bare as can be. Almost like no one has stayed here to begin with.

"There are collectibles and stuff I planned on taking to a thrift shop. I don't know if they're worth anything, but..." She grimaces at my frown. "You could look through them if you want?"

"You don't want to keep anything?" Dragging my gaze from the boxes to her, I notice her squirm again, but this time, it's in discomfort. "You want to get rid of everything?"

There's a moment of hesitation before she nods. "Hunter... I don't want you to think I'm a bad daughter, but my relationship with my father..."

It's not a good one; I know that much. If it were, I would've met her before he died.

"Complicated?" I offer, and she nods. "I'm not going to judge you. If he left you all of this, it's your choice to decide what to do with it. All I want to do is help when I'm needed."

Her mouth quirks up slightly in appreciation. "I want to give this stuff to someone who'd appreciate it more than I would. Donating it feels like the right answer."

Bending down to stack a couple of boxes, I pick them up with ease. "It's your call. Let's do it."

Between grabbing the boxes and loading them up in my truck, I can't help but notice the state of the cabin. Like his bedroom, there are plenty of belongings packed up, while a few trash bags are hanging about, full enough to be tossed right away.

She's emptying this cabin, leaving nothing behind.

"If you don't mind me asking," I say between loads, "what is your plan for this place?"

She grunts as she adjusts the box in her hands. "I have no need for it, so I figured I'd clear it out and put it on the market. It probably won't sell any time soon because of the weather, but it can't hurt to get the ball rolling now."

It's an approach that's to be expected. Still, realizing that my time with this woman is limited doesn't sit right. It feels like I've barely gotten to know her.

Knowing I've got no right to ask her to stay outright doesn't make it any easier not to let the words form on my tongue. The best I can do is grunt and nod.