Cave Man Need Wife (The First Mountain Man)

“I am. What do you usually have for breakfast?”

He tries to stand, but he needs help. I take his arm. “Let me help get you under the A-frame,” I say. “Is this where you hang out during the day?”

“I don’t do much hanging. Usually work on gathering food, staying alive. Keeping the perimeter safe, which clearly isn’t working too well if that damn tiger felt confident in getting so fucking close.”

“Don’t get upset, you need to rest,” I say as he eases down under the shade that sits a few feet off the ground. He has several fur pelts over large palm leaves for comfort, and it’s cozier than the cave. But I can see why at night it would be impossible to rest if you were out in the open like this, vulnerable to the elements.

“I hate resting,” he says.

“I can imagine, but you can’t walk until your leg heals. It was a pretty bad cut.”

“I have to deal with that damn tiger.”

“Not this second. You need to sit here and let me take care of you.”

He grins at that. “You wanna take care of me? Because I have plenty of ideas for that.”

“Stop,” I say, though I admit to smiling back. He is so damn confident it shocks me.

Rock walks me through breakfast. There is a papaya tree a few feet away, and a lime tree too. “For protein, catch us a fish.”

I laugh. “A fish? How?”

“There’s a basket trap in the water. I made it with wooden slats. There’s usually something in there in the morning.”

“Wow,” I say, walking to the water’s edge. “I’m impressed.” He tells me where the trap is, and I reach into it, finding a silvery fish the size of my forearm.

I bring the fish to Rock, along with his knife, and he shows me how to gut it, how to fillet it.

“I’ll need to watch you more than a few times to remember,” I admit.

“How are you with fire? Because it needs stoking.” He must see the doubt on my face because he tells me what kindling to use and which sticks I should add to it. Following his directions, the fire begins to blaze and I place the fish fillets on the stone grill in the center of the pit, then begin making us a papaya and lime salad, placing the diced fruit in a bowl he carved from a piece of wood.

“What would you have done out here without this knife?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to know. It is a terrifying prospect.”

“I wish I had brought some supplies with me.”

“It’s not like you were planning on this little detour.”

I reach into the salad bowl for a chunk of the perfectly ripe fruit. “I sure wasn’t.”

“What were you planning? For your life? I told you about my dreams for my cabin, what are yours?”

I twist my lips. “I know you joked about being married, but for me, that’s what I wanted too. I had this idea of falling in love—"

“With the Prince Charming, I remember. You wanted to get married at a fancy ass resort like your sister?”

I shake my head. “No. My sister wanted her exotic destination wedding, but I wanted to get married at a chapel, in a big white dress. My dad would have given his blessing on the union, of course. And of course he would walk me down the aisle.” I sigh. “My dad is the best man I know. We moved around a lot when I was growing up because he was in the military, but whenever he came home, it was like magic. He could make even the simplest moment feel special.”

“My grandpa was my role model growing up. When I joined the special forces, there was this one man, my sergeant for lots of years. He was incredible. All the guys looked up to Sergeant Langham.”

“Langham?” My eyes widen and my heart races. “Did you say Sergeant Langham?”

Rock nods. “Yeah, and crazy as it is, I saved the man’s life once when we were getting out of Baghdad. It was a close fucking call too, but I pulled him away from a blast just in time.” He chuckles but my heart, it pounds. “He told me if we were living in the Stone Age, he’d give me his daughter’s hand in marriage as a thank you gift.”

I gasp, tears in my eyes.

“What is it? You okay?” Rock asks. “Damn, the fish, it’s gonna burn to a crisp,” he says, moving to stand before remembering he can’t get there on his own.

I scurry over to the grill, using a stick to skewer the fish, placing it on one of the palm leaves that Rock has stacked nearby for just this reason.

My mind races though. My hands shake. As I walk back to the A-frame, I try to collect myself.