A Weekend with the Mountain Man Read online

  The sound of a human voice both gave me hope and terrorized me simultaneously.

  The man did not sound pleasant in the least but perhaps he could call off the dogs.

  If possible, the hound whined louder and I was at a loss at what to do.

  Should I make myself known or stay hidden?

  What had I done? I had left one awful situation, only to enter another one. I was too inexperienced to have run off alone like that and now I was going to suffer the consequences of my actions, one way or another.

  The second dog drew closer and I could see he was far more intense than the first, his white teeth gleaming against the night as if he intended to eat me whole.

  “Rufus, if I have to come out there, I’m gonna feed you to the fucking coyotes, I swear on your life!”

  I waited as both animals seemed to pause uncertainly, glancing back to look toward the cottage and I knew it was my opportunity to flee.

  Jumping to my feet, I rushed toward the nearest tree, scrambling to climb it as they pounced forward, both a mass of hysterics.

  I watched as the front door to the cabin flew open and my breath caught in my throat.

  A half-naked man stood on the porch, his olive skin gleaming in the moonlight.

  He was bigger than any person I had ever seen, certainly larger than Sir by at least four inches.

  I could make out the definition of his perfectly sculpted abs even in the blackness and as he turned his bearded face about to seek the cause of the disturbance, I could see that his eyes were some glimmering metallic shade.

  But despite his imposing and dark attractiveness, I was fixated on something else.

  He held a rifle in his hands and I could sense that he was ready to use it at the first sign of movement.

  I willed myself to remain perfectly still even though I wanted nothing more than to run, bawling from the spot.

  “Come!” he commanded his voice a deep, sonorous pitch which I could feel in my soul.

  The dogs joined him instantly, forsaking my location at once.

  I was awed by the dominance he exuded, a peculiar feeling seizing me above my fear as I watched in fascination.

  The first dog who had approached me let out another loud yip and the man scowled.

  “Rufus, shut up!” he growled.

  Suddenly, Rufus stopped barking and sniffed the air as if he had lost my scent somehow.

  I exhaled slowly, wondering if I had narrowly escaped a certain death.

  I watched as he continued conversing with the dogs.

  “Well?” he demanded. “All done now?”

  Rufus dropped his eyes and sighed as if begrudgingly resigning his search. I found myself also releasing a breath of air as the stranger leaned forward to scratch the dog’s black skull.

  More relief flooded me as I watched him sling the gun over his shoulder by the strap.

  “Can I go back to bed now?”

  As if to give his consent, Rufus started toward the door, the other canine on his heels.

  I wondered what it would be like to go inside with them where it was warm and there might be food.

  He was unlike any man I had ever seen before, his face amass with thick, black facial hair to match the waves on his head.

  Although the details of his face were hazy from the night, I could see he was incredibly handsome.

  I wondered what it would be like to sleep in a bed with a man that size.

  I imagined it would be warm and safe and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to knock on his door and beg him to let me do precisely that.

  The uncharacteristically wicked thought filled me with shame and I scrambled down the tree to rush away from my sinful ideas.

  I wouldn’t even get past the threshold.

  He had guns in his house and –

  I heard the dogs begin to bark again and I realized that my movement had roused them from whatever uneasy peace they had fallen into.

  I had to keep moving before I was found out and I ran away from the cabin, my heart pounding so loudly, I was sure he would hear it as I did.

  Certain I was far enough away, I paused to catch my breath.

  That was when the shot rang out and I squealed, bolting deeper into the ravine.

  Obviously, I was not going to find a friend in that man.

  I found my way to a hollowed-out tree trunk and hunkered inside, hoping that the confined space would serve to preserve some of the body heat I so desperately needed.

  I couldn’t continue to claw my way through the dark, not knowing what else I might encounter in the woods.

  My fear of both the nocturnal animals and who else I might encounter kept my pulse racing.

  Albeit exhausted, I was too hungry and cold to entertain the thought of sleep and yet as I wedged myself in the space, I was asleep in minutes.

  I dreamt that Sir, the mountain man, and a coyote had me surrounded by the tree.

  “You have nowhere to run,” the man told me. “You have to pick one of us to go with.”

  I shook my head in terror.

  “Just let me go!” I cried, my hands trembling with cold and horror.

  “You belong with us,” Sir told me, reaching a hand toward me. I drew back further into the wood and the coyote snarled, approaching.

  Behind me, I heard the man’s dogs barking and I realized there was nowhere to run.

  “You must make a choice,” he told me, shaking his head. “Choose one of us. It is the only way you will get out of here alive.”

  “No!” I sobbed. “Please, just let me go!”

  “Where will you go?” Sir asked conversationally. “There is nowhere you can go that I won’t find you.”

  In my heart, I knew he was speaking the truth.

  “Just pick someone,” the man snapped, his patience wearing thin. “Go with the coyote if you can’t decide.”

  I was blinded by tears as I looked from Sir to the stranger and then to the bloodthirsty coyote.

  Inhaling sharply, I looked at the mountain man.

  “I choose you,” I whispered. “Please help me.”

  They both began to laugh, the sound sinister and cruel.

  I knew I made the wrong decision and I began to scream as he reached forward to seize my arm.

  “No!” I moaned, waving my head wildly. “No, leave me alone!”

  My coffee-colored eyes fluttered open and I realized that dawn had broken through, a gray, cold morning without promise.

  But at least I could see and I was alone. Sir was not there and there was no beast ready to eat me.

  I could not help but feel slightly disappointed that the man from the cabin was also not there.

  You are not thinking rationally. That man is dangerous. You must find another way to get out of these mountains and far away from Sir before he follows through with his plans for you.

  I had been lucky it had not happened, a fluke of nature deterring the plans but if I had stayed, my life would be irrevocably changed forever.

  There had been no choice but to run.

  I thought of my mother and Jillian, my stomach churning nervously.

  Had running away put my mother and sister in danger?

  It was too much to worry about at that moment. I had to keep going until I found shelter and safety. Then I could worry about Jillian.

  My mother knew what she was doing.

  It was her fault I was running scared at that moment. What kind of woman puts her own children into such a situation?

  A wave of bitterness swept through me as I thought of what she had conspired to do.

  How could she? What hold does Sir have on her to allow for this to happen?

  But even as I thought it, I wondered how I could not have seen it myself.

  I shoved the self-doubt and anxiety from my mind and forced myself to concentrate on my immediate plight.

  As I rose from my hiding spot, I brushed the leaves off my cloak and dress, inhaling sharply as I tried to orient myself toward a r
oad.

  If I found a road, it would have to lead somewhere, wouldn’t it? Perhaps a town or…

  I didn’t know. I had no plan, no money, no supplies.

  What had I been thinking?

  I was lucky I had made it that far although how I had done it was beyond my comprehension.

  And I hadn’t even been on the run for a full day.

  The realization that I might die suddenly hit me with force and a panic gripped me horrifically as I struggled to keep it together.

  I walked, remembering that the cabin was behind me.

  That man was the first sign of life I had seen since leaving and he might be my only shot to survival.

  I had to turn around. It was the most logical thing to do.

  He shot at you. Those dogs want to eat you, I reminded myself, still forging forward, my eyes scanning the trees for something to put in my belly.

  I knew enough about the flora in the region not to eat poisonous berries but I couldn’t see anything at all, toxic or not.

  How long can someone go without food or –

  I gasped as the trees opened and I was facing a dirt road ahead.

  I had found a road!

  My heart was pounding in my chest as I scurried onto the laneway, my head darting up and down the winding pathway, hoping to see a vehicle.

  Of course, there was no one in sight but that was all right.

  I was just going to walk until someone came. I could ask for a ride into town and…well, I would figure out a plan as I moved.

  My legs felt like leaden weights as I moved, the combination of weakness and worry eroding my energy.

  You’ve made it this far, Eloise. You can do this. Keep going forward, I willed myself. Suddenly, I froze in my tracks as I realized something.

  Being on a road was the stupidest move I could make.

  If Sir wanted to find me, that is how he would look. He wouldn’t send Randolph through the woods to get lost. He would start on the paths that were known. I needed to get back into the woods and get hidden!

  No sooner had I thought it when I heard the rumble of a vehicle approaching.

  Terror gripped my heart like a vice and I scrambled toward the guardrail, my body trembling as I threw my leg over the metal just as the powder blue truck slipped around the curve.

  I knew that truck.

  I had only seen it hours earlier parked outside the cabin.

  My head jerked upward and I met his eyes, my body immobilizing.

  In the pale light of dawn, his vivid eyes were a steel green, and while they were surreal and unique, they were a shade I had seen before.

  At home.

  Does he know Sir? Is he looking for me?

  The idea was ludicrous. I had found him on his property, not the other way around. I was just being paranoid.

  As I had suspected, he was beautiful, a chiseled jaw, full lips which seemed pressed into a perpetual scowl of annoyance.

  His chin was straight and wide.

  Somehow, I managed to take in every feature of his face despite the fact he had come and gone in mere seconds.

  I gaped after the vehicle, my heart in my throat as I silently wished him to stop, to turn around and return to me but he had already vanished around another curve, leaving me alone with an overwhelming sense of loss and relief simultaneously.

  My dream came flooding back to me.

  He wasn’t Sir but something told me he could be just as dangerous.

  I had to keep going.

  Even if it killed me.

  Because home had a fate worse than death awaiting.

  3

  Harding

  The bite in the air never quite left from the previous night although, at work, it didn’t affect me in the least.

  My job as a roughneck had me running around, ensuring the health and safety of all decks.

  It could be grueling and exhausting but it had almost become second nature to me after two years.

  I was lost in my own thoughts as always, my mind on the renovation and some of the things I needed.

  At noon, I took my lunch in my truck as I always did, making a list of supplies I would need.

  Most of the crew remained on the rig but I preferred the solitude of my truck, even though I wasn’t a smoker like some of the others.

  I’ll stop on the way home, I decided. Hit the hardware store and get working on the extension this evening. I must set up the framework, put up the sheetrock and the insulation.

  I was off on Sunday so I could get a head start but I wanted to put in whatever I could that night also.

  If the temperature was any indication of what was coming, I didn’t have the luxury of time.

  A knock on the driver’s side window caused me to look up at rig manager, Jeff Morley.

  I rolled down the window and peered at him speculatively, one hand reaching to turn down the radio as I did.

  Keith Urban’s voice faded out as I stared at Jeff inquisitively.

  “Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “I was just wondering if you want to work tomorrow. Charles’ wife just went into labor. He’s having twins.”

  Always a source of too much information, Jeff Morley was.

  What the fuck did I care why Greg Charles wasn’t coming into work on Sunday?

  I shook my head, even though my mind was yelling at me to say yes. Sundays were double pay, after all, but I knew I couldn’t afford to leave the house a minute longer.

  “I wish I could,” I replied truthfully. “But I have something I need to deal with.”

  Morley snorted outright.

  “Yeah, right, Jackson. Like what? A hot date?”

  I felt my temper flare but I maintained the stoic expression on my face as I stared at him.

  A coldness emanated from my eyes as I stared at him and he physically stepped back as if I had pushed him.

  “Something like that,” I replied flatly.

  He lost the smirk on his face and shook his head.

  “All right,” he grunted. “Just thought I would ask you before I asked the others. I know how much you love your overtime.”

  “I appreciate you thinking of me,” I answered lightly.

  And fuck you, Morley.

  The manager spun and left me to my list but suddenly I was annoyed.

  It was no secret that the crew found me odd but I didn’t care about that. I had been working as a roughneck for two years, in line for a promotion to motor hand any day. I knew my job and did it well, no fuss, no complaints.

  All day long I heard men pissing and moaning about their wives, their kids, their girlfriends, their cars. They even bitched about their jobs in front of Jeff.

  Nothing was ever good enough for any of them and frankly, I had nothing of any value to contribute to their “conversations.” I kept my head down and did my work, trying to block out their negativity and get through my shift.

  They thought me standoffish, a redneck mountain man without a brain.

  No one knew me, not even the men from Cedar City.

  I had lived in Iron County probably longer than any of them but they didn’t know who I was and I preferred it that way.

  I wasn’t looking for friends. I had my dogs and even when Rufus was howling his bag off, he still wasn’t as obnoxious as Jeff Morley on a good day.

  But I was irritated that they made assumptions about me, about how I lived and what I did with my spare time.

  Just because I didn’t go to Wendy Lou’s Bar after shift and pick up one of the half dozen “oil babies” who seemed to live in the tavern, hoping for one of the crewmen to buy her a drink and fuck her until she forgot where she was.

  I liked a beer as much as the next man, truth be told but I could do without the boisterous fights, the testosterone bubbling over the roof.

  And the meaningless conversations.

  I would sooner go home with a six-pack of Bud and sit around the fire with Rufus and Clayton or work on my house.

&nbs
p; Shit, sometimes I even grabbed a twelve and fell asleep in the bed of my truck staring up at the stars.

  After all, I had everything I ever needed in my remote part of the mountain. There was nothing those men or anyone else could provide that would make my life more fulfilled.

  I have everything I need, I thought again, watching Morley disappear toward the rig as I finished my coffee and sandwich. What the fuck does he know about my life?

  Maybe that was the problem; no one knew anything about my life.

  I had deliberately kept everyone at bay but what if something were to happen to me if I were to drop dead one day working on the roof? Would anyone know where to find my body?

  The fatalistic thought made me raise my own eyebrow in surprise.

  The lack of sleep had certainly affected my mood.

  As I tossed the silver thermos onto the passenger seat, I pulled my keys from the ignition and hopped out of the high cab, slamming the door behind me.

  I noticed a group of drillers eyeing me as I ambled back toward the site and I got that familiar feeling that they were talking about me as I wandered by.

  Honestly, it didn’t bother me in the least; I expected nothing less from men like them.

  When I had first started on the crew, they had gone out of their way to make my life miserable, something which Jeff Morley explained was a “hazing” ritual.

  “Everyone goes through it, Jackson,” he growled, exasperated when the third man had been sent home with a broken nose. “No need to take it so personally.”

  It was hard not to take damage to my truck, locker, and property “personal.”

  When it became obvious that I was not beyond defending myself and my belongings, they eventually left me alone, only to gossip like a bunch of teenaged girls behind my back.

  Suited me better than fine; I had no use for friendships like that.

  Every so often, one of the men would try some dumb shit with me and I would react the same way, putting a fist through their cheekbones.

  Lately, they seem to have mellowed though, leaving me in peace the way I preferred.

  All except Aaron Jessup.

  “Hey Harding!” the man chirped. “All finished your lunch?”

  I glanced at the pleasant-faced boy and nodded.

  Boy was an unfair assessment as Aaron was probably twenty-three but he acted much younger.