Page 1 of Challenged By the Mountain Man

Chapter 1 - Hannah

The cabin looks like something died in it.

I stand in the doorway, duffel bag still slung over one shoulder, staring at what was supposed to be my escape. Dust coats every surface thick enough to write my name in. One window has a crack spider-webbing across the glass. There's a musky odor that suggests an animal got in here at some point and made itself comfortable.

The listing said "rustic charm."

The listing lied.

I drop my bag on the porch. I'm not bringing it inside until I know what I'm dealing with, and step slowly over the threshold. The floorboards creak under my boots. Everything creaks. The whole structure feels like it's holding its breath, waiting to see if I'll stay or run.

I've been holding my breath for three weeks.

I'm not running.

The main room is small: a kitchen area with a wood-burning stove, a counter that's seen better decades, and a table with two chairs that don't match. There's a couch that might have been blue once, now faded to something between gray and surrender. A door to what I assume is the bedroom. Another to what better be a functional bathroom.

I try the light switch by the door.

Nothing.

I flip it up and down three more times like that's going to change anything.

Still nothing.

My phone is still in my pocket. I pull it up, open the email confirmation from the rental company, and scroll through the listing details I memorized two weeks ago when I booked this place. "Rustic mountain cabin, perfect for a quiet getaway. Solar power, wood stove heating, all the charm of off-grid living."

Solar power.

I walk back outside and scan the roofline.

There are no solar panels.

There is nothing.

For a long moment, I just stand there on the porch, hands on my hips, staring at the pine trees stretching up the mountain slope like they're personally mocking me. I drove six hours to get here. I took two weeks of forced leave from the bank because my manager took one look at me after the robbery and said, "Hannah, you need to get away. You need to breathe."

I researched everything. I planned every detail. I controlled every variable I could possibly control because that's what I do now: I control things, I plan things, I make sure nothing catches me off guard.

And now I'm standing in front of a cabin with no power, no explanation, and a crack in the window that's definitely going to let in whatever wildlife thinks this place is part of the local food chain.

I pull up the property owner's number from my emails.

It rings four times, then goes to voicemail.

"Hi, this is Hannah Valentine. I just arrived at the cabin I rented, and there's no electricity. The listing said solar power. There are no solar panels. Also, there's a crack in the window and it smells like something died in here. Please call me back."

I hang up and immediately feel stupid for how shaky my voice sounded.

I'm fine.

This is fine.

I drove six hours for this. I'm not leaving.

The email mentioned a neighbor. I scroll back through until I find it: "Please note there is one other property nearby, approximately half a mile up the access road. The owner values privacy. Please be respectful of boundaries."

I look up the road.