At All Cost: A Mountain Man Romance Read online

  “At All Cost”

  Text copyright © 2019 by Katerina Winters

  All rights reserved

  Cover Design by J. Herb

  ISBN: 978-1-7332955-0-5

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author, addressed “Attention: Permission Requested,” at the website below.

  www.katerinawinters.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission. This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. This book is intended for those over the age of 18.

  This edition is an Amazon Kindle only Publication. If this is hosted anywhere it is fraud.

  At All Cost

  By: Katerina Winters

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

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  Chapter 1

  There was something about the way she ate those pancakes that bothered Jax. It was the look of reverent bliss she had after she took each bite. Sometimes, she would simply stare at the remaining pancakes as if she couldn’t believe that they were the cause of such a taste or other moments she would simply stare up and out of the diner window at the dreary sky as she ate.

  Sitting in his truck, Jax leaned comfortably against the window sill of his door as he waited for Herschel to come out of the post office. The inverters he ordered through Herschel’s hardware store were supposed to arrive today. With his backseat filled with various boxes of food and supplies, Jax looked down the empty street off Gaulding’s main street with impatience. Gaulding Oregon, with a population of eight hundred, was a sad excuse for a coastal town. Bleary rays of sunlight struggled to peek out behind the thick gray clouds, giving the drab sea weathered buildings and its occupants' limited tastes of sunlight, but the girl in the diner didn’t seem to mind. Dark eyelashes softly settled downward as she closed her eyes and rested her chin against her fist, occasionally taking a sip from the off-white coffee cup.

  The zippers to his coat clinked in the silence of the cab of his truck as he stretched out one of his legs, glancing away from the mysterious girl. Finally, Jax spotted Herschel walking back across the street. It was about time. Looking at his watch, he stepped out of the truck, and inwardly sneered at the readout. It was already half past noon. Pulling the glass door open to the hardware store, Jax walked through the clanging disturbance of bells tied to the top of the doorframe. As usual, the store was empty.

  "Okay, Mr. Beranek, let me just fish these out-of-the-box for you," with his arms elbow-deep in Styrofoam peanuts, Herschel began taking out the inverters.

  Jax only gave the eager man a grunt of acknowledgment.

  If it wasn't for Herschel's bulk rate discount, Jax would have just ordered the inverters online and had them sent to the post office for himself, avoiding this wholly unnecessary step.

  Dinging noises from the cash register eventually chimed, signaling to Jax he was almost done with this entire process, and he was just that much closer to getting back on the highway and going home. Unable to stop himself, Jax glanced out the large window and past the stenciled lettering on the glass towards the diner across the street. Through the window, he could see the girl paying Camille for the bill before hoisting up a large bag onto her back and walking out the diner. Standing on the outside of the diner door, the girl looked down at her phone as Jax watched. Average height, dark brown wavy hair thrown into a sloppy bun at the crown of her head, and round catlike eyes. But that was all Jax could see. Despite it being early October, the girl seemed to be layered in overly bulky clothing. Sliding her phone in her pocket, she grabbed the straps of her backpack and walked away from the diner.

  Jax’s eyes narrowed. The town’s only hotel was in the opposite direction. The beach, if she was a tourist, was also in the other direction. The sad excuse for a library, the town’s only school, the church, and most of the residential houses were all also in the other direction. The only thing in the direction she was going now was the gas station and the highway.

  “Okay, that will be one hundred and seven,” Herschel’s voice cut through his observations to grab his attention.

  Jax could practically feel the excitement in Herschel’s voice to get such a large purchase. Turning from the window, Jax opened his wallet and paid the man.

  “Do you think you’ll be needing anything else, next month?”

  Everything inside of him recoiled at the man’s veiled desperate plea. And for the first time since entering the shop, Jax let his eyes meet the man’s behind the counter. As expected, Herschel’s expectant smile faltered when he caught the hard edge in Jax’s gaze.

  “Thanks,” Jax said gruffly and grabbed the paper bag with his items.

  Opening his truck door, Jax peered down the long bleak street. There was no bulky figure walking down the street. She must have turned down one of the side streets. God, just look at him, three years out in the wilds of Oregon all by himself and he turned into one of the nosy ass town people already. Hell, even the locals were better than this. Gaulding wasn’t so far off the map that they never received tourist or an occasional drifter. His thoughts, however, wouldn’t accept that solution. The simple fact was: this wasn’t tourist season and a girl like that certainly shouldn’t be a drifter.

  Annoyed with his own intrigue, he hopped into his truck and started the engine. As he passed the intersections to the side streets, he refused to allow himself to look down either of them for her walking figure. Pulling over to the gas station, Jax got out and grabbed two of his big gas cans in the back of the truck. Filling them up, he strapped them back into the bed of his truck before going inside.

  “Hey there, Jax,” Edmund rasped from behind the counter, turning slowly in his chair from his TV to greet him. “You fillin’ up for the month?”

  Jax refrained from wincing, taking note of the impossibly snowy reception of the old beat-up TV sitting on the counter. He had no idea how the old bastard could sit there and watch that shit without going blind.

  “Yeah, I’m headed back now,” Jax answered as he grabbed two cases of his favorite beer from the freezer.

  Edmund stood up slowly with a grimace and Jax could swear he heard the man’s stiff bones pop. Leaning heavily on the counter for support, Edmund slowly started punching in the amounts into the antique cast-iron register. Mentally, Jax counted down from five and just as he got to one Edmund began to shake his head. Holding back a sigh, Jax waited for the customary speech he had been getting every other month since he moved here.

  “Boy, I tell ya,” Edmund began as he slowly reached for Jax’s money. “If I were as young and fit as you, I wouldn’t be li
ving in no Goddang woods like you do.”

  Jax had to use all his control not to just reach over the till and make the change for himself.

  "Yep," Jax replied dryly as he eventually received the money. Grabbing the two beer cases, he lifted them easily from the counter and turned to nudge open the glass door with his foot. "Bye, Edmund."

  “Take care,” Jax could hear the screech of the old metal stool as the old man sat back down.

  Swinging the beers into the passenger seat, Jax felt his step get lighter just at the prospect of leaving this town and getting back to the house. Throwing the truck in gear, he got onto the highway. Lined with thick fir trees on either side of the narrow two-lane highway, Jax had no issue spotting the large mustard colored backpack along with its bulky owner. She was walking on the opposite side of the road, in the natural ditch the road made before meeting up with the tree line.

  The hell?! Why was she out here?

  Passing her by, Jax looked up to his rearview and watched as the distance between them widened. Besides her large camper’s backpack and bulky layered clothing, she was now carrying a large two-gallon water bottle. So, she was a hitchhiker, he concluded. Scratching at his thick beard, he looked back at the road in front of him before looking back in his mirror. She was young, too young to be hitchhiking in the backwoods of Oregon. Shifting gears, his truck went down the incline of the highway and he lost sight of her. He was still scowling in thought when he reached the unpaved turn-in for his road.

  Slowing the truck down, he thumped onto the rough gravel road until he pulled to a stop warring with his thoughts. Something in him wanted to do something about the girl. She shouldn’t be out here. But who was he to say anything? What was he going to do, drive past her and tell her the obvious? “Don’t you know it’s dangerous for a woman to hitchhike?” Yeah, that sounded useful as fuck. Like she already didn’t know that. She could just as well tell him to go fuck off.

  Looking to his right, he didn’t see any sign of her cresting the hill yet. He should just drive home and mind his own business.

  Jax’s hand hovered over his gearshift. She wasn’t his problem, he repeated.

  Pulling the truck forward slowly, Jax frowned even deeper as he stared up through the dense trees just as his automatic headlights clicked on.

  "Fuck me," he growled. Throwing the truck in reverse, he turned and held onto the seatback ledge as he backed the truck back down the road towards the highway.

  Back on the highway, now in the opposite direction, he slowly took the truck down the road as he searched for her. He would give her a ride to Tarki, which was two hours down the highway, and that's it. Going straight for a few minutes, Jax pulled the truck over to a stop.

  She was gone. He knew she didn’t pass him on the turn-in to his house.

  So, where the hell was she?

  Chapter 2

  Turning off the highway, Alessia switched the heavy bottle of water to her other hand. Flexing her sore, stiff fingers, she slowed her pace as she ambled slowly through the trees. Maps on her GPS showed that the topography of the forest on the right side of the highway being raised, with a lot of hills and inclines versus the other side. Aerial pictures also showed that there were streams fairly close by that ran to a small nearby lake. From everything she read on the internet when she was preparing for this, it all suggested that camping reasonably close to the highway had a higher chance of avoiding bear and other animal activity. Alessia could only hope that was true.

  Pulling her phone out of her jeans' pocket, she checked her location on the map. Looking up, she scanned the forest, which was getting darker by the second. Heading south and further away from the road, she climbed a steep hill and stopped. It was getting dark out and pretty soon, she wasn't going to be able to see her own hand in the dark. Finding a small clearing, she slid her shoulders out of the heavy backpack straps and let it fall to the ground with a thud; a tent, some tarps, a firestarter, a hatchet, a sleeping bag, and nearly two hundred dollars more worth of supplies all crammed into one large camping backpack. Her body was so sore and tired. All she wanted to do was sit down. For a moment, she simply stared at the ground longingly, really considering the idea of taking a rest. No, if she did that, not only would it be even darker out when she eventually got up, but it would hurt even more when she did get up. Checking to see if her hunting knife was still sheathed securely on the front of her belt, Alessia bent down with a grimace and began pulling out her tent. The guy at the sporting goods store back in Yakima said it was the best one in her price range that was easy to set up.

  We shall see, she thought with a snort. Unfolding the directions, she began reading.

  Setting up the last prong to the tent, Alessia stepped back with a smile admiring her work. The large green tent looked so big and beautiful she was positive if she allowed it, she could even shed a few tears in happiness. Pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes, she took a moment to let the reality of the situation sink in. Actually, seeing the erected tent and the place she was going to be sleeping each night for the foreseeable future really drove her new reality home. She did it, she escaped.

  With shaky hands, she grabbed her tarp and began spreading it out on the floor of her tent before grabbing her sleeping bag roll. All the guides online stated she should make a fire, but dear God, she was so tired. Crouching by her bag, Alessia stopped and listened. She didn't hear anything. By now, the forest was dark and very quiet—creepy quiet. Only the sound of the crisp, cool wind fluttering through the trees filled the forest. Taking a headlamp out of one of the side pockets of her bag, she stared at it with a faint trace of disgust before turning it on. This belonged to him, as did the hatchet, hunting knife, and a few more things she stole from his shed before leaving.

  Crawling into the tent with her bag, she zipped up the door sealing herself inside. Laying down with an oomph onto the sleeping bag, she stared at the green material above her head. She was here. She was finally free.

  Holding the headlamp above her, she stared at the grease stained elastic strap. Everything that man seemed to own was covered in some sort of grease or grime, just like the disgusting bastard of an owner. From the moment her mom brought him through the front door of their trailer two years ago, Alessia knew nothing good would come of it. Her mom didn’t listen nor care about her feelings about the man. Actually, her mom got angry, angry enough to slap her when Alessia begged for her not to allow him to move in. Diana Conners simply didn’t care: she didn’t care about her daughter’s opinions, her friends’ warnings or any of the obvious dangerous signs from the man.

  Diana was desperate for a man. When Gary, with his motorcycle and steady stream of undocumented cash income showed up in her life, Diana wasn’t willing to take any chances on looking too closely at his faults. With Gary, Diana felt wild and young again, not at all like the forty plus woman who worked in a supermarket and lived with her daughter in a rundown trailer park. Gary’s connection to the local motorcycle gang, the Devil’s Coffin, allowed him a certain level of power and money that appealed to Diana. Overnight, her mom changed. She quit her job, got tattoos, starting dressing differently, and even started staying out early until the next day. Gary was her everything now, all the while, he became Alessia's personal hell.

  It started off as just a bad feeling, a terrible sensation he was watching her. It seemed with every passing week the feeling of being watched transformed into outright bold stares from the man. With their trailer only being two bedrooms, there wasn't anywhere she could run when his attention for her escalated. Staring turned into comments, suggestive comments turned into vile come-ons until finally, she found herself fighting off his roaming hands all the while he laughed as if it was all just one big game. Although he would usually laugh and eventually back off with his hands raised, Alessia could see the promise in his eyes for more to come.

  And it did.

  Running was her only option. Shelters were a joke. They provided only temporary and res
entful help. Attendants there gave her condemning looks, sometimes even insinuating maybe she was just being difficult or questioning her if she was just imagining the things she claimed going on in her home. As for the police, that would only make things ten times worse. Gary was always sure to brag loud enough for anyone to hear, especially her, that his motorcycle gang had a real tight working relationship with the Yakima police.

  The choice regarding her future was plain to see: she could continue to suffer in her broken trailer that was once a home or she could leave. More like run, she thought. Turning over to her side with nervous energy, she recalled Gary’s threat when he drove her back home from the last shelter she tried to escape to. Shoving her into the passenger seat of his prized old Mustang, he leaned onto the door frame with both hands and leaned down directly over her with an evil smirk.

  “You’re not leaving me. No matter where you go, I’ll find you. And if I have to come get you again like this sugar…” Alessia’s body stiffened on the sleeping bag just as it did that day in his car when he reached down and dug his grimy tattooed hand between her thighs. Even through her jeans, she could feel the heat of his hand as he cupped her sex painfully with a deep groan. “I’ll make you pay for the inconvenience.”