Mountain Boss: Mountain Men Series Book One
Mountain Boss: Chapter 21

I drag my sweater off and use the bunched-up material to wipe at my forehead.

I’ve been fighting with this cabin door all afternoon.

The list said Fix the front door on cabin two. So I went to cabin two, which turns out to be the closest one to my Laundry Cabin, and found the front door wasn’t exactly straight, causing it to stick when you try to open it.

Not a huge deal. I’ve fixed doors before. My last gig had me replacing more than one after a break-in or a fight.

However, stripped screws, rust, and a bent hinge quickly dampened my confidence.

Even under the best circumstances, two people are best for hanging doors.

But I don’t have a second person.

And I’m hardly working under the best circumstances.

So I struggled.

I found branches on the ground to use as props.

I used screws out of my toolbox because no one showed me where to replace tools here.

And there have to be tools here.

Throughout the process, I bit my lip more than once to keep the tears at bay.

But I didn’t cry.

I didn’t dare.

Not when Mr. Blackasshole could appear around any corner.

I am giving zero reasons for him to fire me.

Mentally unstable? Never heard of her.

Wiping my forehead again, I marvel at the weather here.

This morning it was chilly, but with the sun shining down between the trees, the day has gotten warm.

I eye the interior of the guest cabin.

The kitchenette and full-size fridge.

The pair of bunk beds mocking me with their mattresses…

I’m tempted to sit on one of the adult-sized chairs at the table for four.

I’m even more tempted to collapse onto one of the four glorious mattresses. But instead, I gather my tools and pull the door shut as I move onto the steps outside.

The door clicks shut smoothly.

“Not too shabby,” I sigh to myself.

It might have taken me longer than I would’ve liked, but I did my job.

My muscles protest as I lower myself onto the steps.

I was hoping my aches and pains would loosen up as the day went on, as I moved around, but that has not been the case. If anything, I feel worse.

My butt hits the step, and the grunt I let out could be mistaken for one of the bears I’ve been stressing about all day. And as I blink at the clipboard on my lap, I almost welcome the idea of a bear approaching.

Maybe I could befriend it. And it could carry things around for me. And by things, I mean me. I want it to carry me around.

Or maybe it would just swallow me whole.

Either option would make the rest of my day easier.

With a huff, I pull the pen out of my cargo pocket and drag the tip across the paper, crossing out the Fix the front door task.

Voices carry across the property, but I don’t look up.

I’ve heard evidence of other people throughout the day, but no one has approached me.

Possibly because I’ve done everything I can to stay hidden.

I’m sure they’re nice. Sure they won’t be like Mr. Black. But I’m just not up for small talk today.

The lack of sleep. The moodiness of my boss. The measly amount in my bank account. The lingering hunger from not eating breakfast and rushing through lunch since I didn’t know how long of a break I was allowed…

It’s all caught up to me.

I hang my head forward as I flip through the pages on the clipboard.

I started from the top of page one, but I need to replace an easy task to end the day with.

I still don’t know how late I’m supposed to work each day.

Since it started early, it should end early. Right?

It’s not like I have some pressing engagement, but I do want to shower before nightfall.

My eyes snag on a line of text.

Fix leaky faucet in women’s toilet.

I make a face at the term women’s toilet, but that’s the building with the showers—please, Ourea, let there be showers in the women’s toilet.

Reaching up, I grip the railing—since the guest cabins have railings—and haul myself up.

With all my things gathered, I take the short path from the front of the cabin to the slightly wider path that runs parallel to the driveway. Then I follow that path to the bathrooms.

Cleaning is a part of my job description, so as I open the door labeled Women, I pray once again to the god of the mountains that the bathrooms aren’t gross.

The high square windows don’t let in much light, but when I replace the switch for the overhead fluorescents, I’m pleasantly surprised.

Hooray for one thing going right.

Ahead of me is a long counter with four sinks.

I look down the length of the building and see four stalls with metal locking doors, and then four stalls that stick out farther and have shower curtains instead of doors.

I’d prefer doors over curtains for showering, but… I look over my shoulder at the main door and see it can be locked from the inside.

“Basically a spa.”

Before I start on the leaky sink, I walk down to the shower stalls and pull one of the curtains aside.

My second pleasant surprise comes when I see the second shower curtain splitting the front part of the stall from the actual shower part. This means I can put my clothes and towel on the small bench without them getting wet.

All in all, not a bad setup.

As I work on the sink, I daydream about the shower I’m going to take as soon as the clock strikes five.