The sun filtered through the high cabin windows, warm and quiet. A slow breeze crept through the open screen door, fluttering the edges of a flannel shirt draped over a chair. Jack stood shirtless by the stove, frying bacon in…

The light through the cabin windows was golden and soft, filtering through the trees and spilling across the floorboards in wide slats. The fire from last night had burned down to glowing embers, but the air still carried the thick…

Charlene didn’t leave that night. Not after the table. Not after the second round on the bearskin rug in front of the fire, when Jack had bent her over with her heels still on, his hands gripping her hips like…

It was late afternoon when the heat broke. The thick clouds that had been sitting heavy over the treetops all morning finally gave way, letting shafts of golden sunlight pierce through. Jack stood at the open doors of his workshop,…

The morning sun spilled through the forest canopy, casting golden stripes across Jack Johnson’s workbench as he shaved down a slab of walnut wood. The scent of cedar, sweat, and sawdust lingered in the air like musk—thick and earthy. Jack’s…