The Mountain Man's Secret Twins

by Alexa Ross

  The tech positioned the scanner directly on the goop, waiting until a fuzzy image appeared on the black screen. Kenzie frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The tech’s jaw dropped. Slowly, a secretive smile formed between her cheeks. She made eye contact with Kenzie, trying to repress a giggle.

  “You won’t believe this,” she said.

  “Is it all right?” Kenzie asked, alarmed.

  “Of course it is. You’re having twins, is all. Double the fun. Double the trouble.”

  Kenzie couldn’t believe it. She didn’t speak for several moments, the tech still assessing her uterus, making sure she was healthy. She bowed her head, placing her chin on her chest, glaring at her protruding abdomen. Two babies. Inside her. Two babies that would soon be out in the world, crying and eating and sleeping and loving. Two babies who would cost her money, making her budget even tighter than it already was.

  The tech finished and slipped her latex gloves from her hands. She shrugged. “Twins are harder, yes,” she said, filling the silence and trying to relieve Kenzie’s panic, “but there isn’t any reason you can’t handle it. You seem strong, Kenzie, and good. These kids are lucky to have you.”

  Kenzie didn’t feel strong. After leaving the ultrasound clinic, she drove around Concord sullenly, the radio on. She drove past where she’d learned Tori and Austin now lived—a two-story colonial with a fenced-in backyard. She wondered if they were planning on having children. Had Austin ever mentioned kids, or wanting them? She couldn’t remember now. Her time with him was a blur, knocked out by her memories of Bryce.

  Kenzie parked the car with a jolt outside her apartment building, sanding her palms against her rotund belly. The next week, she’d take three days off. She’d rearrange her client meetings, her showings, and her office hours, and she’d drive back to Vermont to tell Bryce the truth. She wouldn’t demand anything in return. Just telling him would have to be enough.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kenzie felt too catatonic that night to call or text anyone with the news. She sat with it, stewing, and drank hot chocolate, watching the clock tick. Her apartment was a one-bedroom, and there had been barely enough room for both her and Austin. Hunting for a house of her own sounded bizarre, like jumping the fence on the structured life she’d created. She imagined what she’d need. Three bedrooms, maybe? A backyard, if they wanted to get a dog when the kids were older? Should she start deciding on a school system? Now that she understood what her clients needed, she felt panicked, understanding why they had to “go talk about it” so often. It felt like the difference between life and death.

  As she sat, blanketed, she began to doze. Her dream seemed like a premonition. She found herself standing on the porch of Bryce’s cabin, gazing out at the summery trees. She heard the wind ruffling through the leaves, birds twittering, no sign of civilization anywhere. Bryce’s truck was parked in the driveway, featuring what looked like a double baby seat in the back. She heard her name called from inside house and spun, swiping her hands over her apron. Were they cooking?

  She found herself back in that familiar kitchen, which had been decorated with a woman’s touch. Unconsciously, she knew she’d done it. Bryce was standing at the stovetop, stirring a vegetable soup and smiling at her. His beard was full, his hair longer than it had been in February, and his shirt was off, showing his rippling, tanned, summertime muscles. Kenzie wrapped her arms around him, kissing the back of his shoulder.

  “They just fell asleep,” he whispered to her, kissing her nose.

  Behind her, the babies were stationed in their cradles, their eyes closed and their eyelids sparkling in the sunlight. She could hardly believe how small they were, how perfect: one boy and one girl, both with Bryce’s blue eyes and Kenzie’s dark hair.

  “It’s going to be chilly tonight,” dreamland Bryce told her. “I’m going to bring some wood in for a fire. Maybe cook some of the venison we still have frozen. What do you think?”

  “Sounds cozy,” Kenzie said.

  Together, in this dream world, Kenzie and Bryce gathered their babies and fed them dinner as the evening darkened and the wind began to howl outside. Bryce built a large fire in the fireplace, and Kenzie dressed the kids in adorable bedtime onesies. They placed them on a large bearskin rug near the fire and played with them, kissing their tiny, round cheeks and making them giggle.

  “I’m glad we did this,” Bryce told her, his eyes heavy with happiness and fatigue.

  “Did what?” Kenzie asked quietly, watching as their babies began to slumber on the soft bearskin rug.

  “Had babies. Made a family,” Bryce said. “But most of all, I’m happy you came back. You changed my life.”

  Immediately, Kenzie’s eyes popped open, bringing her back to reality. She looked at the clock, realizing it was only five in the morning. But she’d never been so awake in her life. Her stomach clenched and she rushed to the bathroom, barreling toward the toilet and huffing, almost vomiting, but keeping it in.

  As she sat on the cold tile, she pressed her chin to her knees and thought about Bryce, about the beautiful future she had seen for them in her dreams. She couldn’t wait another minute to see him. She had to leave immediately, work be damned.

  Kenzie showered quickly, scrubbing at her legs and arms but being delicate with her abdomen. A boy and a girl, she just knew it: growing, living, becoming real in there. What were the rules she was meant to follow? No coffee? More vegetables? Should she start listening to classical music, just in case that made the babies smarter? She didn’t know.

  She packed a small bag, not knowing how long she’d be gone, and emailed her clients and boss, informing them she had a family emergency. She set out in her car, wrapped up tight in a spring coat, conscious that the mountains would offer a much harsher climate.

  I should have known something like this would happen, she thought as she drove. Their night together had seemed pivotal, sizzling with magic and a chemistry she couldn’t describe. She could only hope that Bryce would want to live her fantasies with her and become a part of their family—or at least a part of Kenzie and the babies’ lives, in any capacity he could.

  Kenzie stopped many times along the way, using the bathroom and recharging with fruits and vegetables and nuts, along with the occasional dark chocolate square. She wore sunglasses, protecting her eyes from the spontaneous mounds of snow that glittered in the April sunshine.

  When she first saw the mountains, she breathed a sigh of relief. Far away from her responsibilities, she felt her shoulders grow less tense, her body relaxing, and her stomach calming. She passed through the small town at the base of the mountain, stopping briefly for a grilled cheese sandwich. As she ate, crunching on the crust, she considered how she’d tell Bryce the truth. Would she just come out with it?

  She sat, poised for several moments, with the cheese oozing out from between the bread. The waitress approached her, frowning.

  “You all right, darling? You been staring at that sandwich for a while now.”

  Flustered, Kenzie dropped the sandwich. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Just a little out of my mind today.”

  “Aren’t we all,” the waitress said, flashing a wide smile, which contained just ten teeth. “I got your bill here for you,” she said, laying it lightly on the countertop. “Take your time.”

  After Kenzie paid, she drove the rest of the way up the mountain, now fully shivering with jitters. She drove past the cabin she’d rented and then weaved up the tight streets, toward the familiar driveway. The area looked different without the mounds of snow, and the trees were beginning to open their arms to springtime. Sunrays swept through their still-empty limbs.

  When Kenzie parked, she knew something was amiss with the cabin. It looked dark, almost abandoned, and was missing the massive pile of logs for his fire out front. Kenzie took tentative steps toward the door, peeking in through the window. The couch was still there, along with the rug and several pots and pans, but the heavy layer of dust on t
he other side of the windowpane spoke the truth: Bryce wasn’t around. He hadn’t been for a while.

  Kenzie drew back from the window, suddenly frustrated. He hadn’t given her any information from his past whatsoever, meaning she didn’t have any clues regarding his current location. She considered giving up, driving home, and doing what her mother always said: finding a man who could take care of her and the babies so she didn’t have to be so careful with money.

  But, honestly, the mere thought of that turned her stomach.

  She sat on the porch, enjoying the scenery and trying to create a plan. She knew he’d been at the cabin for 12 years, which meant a planned move didn’t seem likely. He’d probably been taken away by surprise. Perhaps a relative had contacted him? Perhaps the child in the photo had needed him? Perhaps he was getting back together with the blond woman?

  Don’t jump to conclusions, she thought. You’ll just depress yourself.

  As she stepped down from the porch, she remembered something. When she’d ripped Bryce’s jean jacket from his body in a fit of sexual desire, a patch had fallen off. She’d picked it up on the morning she’d left, just as a keepsake.

  She’d dropped it in her purse and promptly forgotten about it.

  Feeling wild, she leafed through her purse and found the patch almost immediately. It was rectangular, thick, and had a motorcycle embroidered on it. Above it were the words: “The Blue Boys Clubhouse.”

  Kenzie frowned, realizing she’d found a path. But where on earth could the Blue Boys Clubhouse be? She rubbed the embroidered patch with her thumb and forefinger, knowing that if she did find this Blue Boys Clubhouse, Bryce wouldn’t necessarily be there. But others who knew him—who actually had a history with him!—would be there. Perhaps they could give her another clue, which would lead to another. She was on a scavenger hunt now. If she succeeded in finding him, it would alter the course of her life.

  Kenzie returned to her car and drove back down the mountain, keeping the patch in her jacket pocket, close to the babies. She parked at the diner, suddenly starving again, and ordered a piece of pie from the same waitress. She laughed, slipping the apple pie slab onto a gleaming white plate. “Darling, this one’s on the house.”

  “Thank you,” Kenzie said, dipping the fork into the tip of the pie. But as the waitress walked away, Kenzie got an idea. “Wait a minute!” she called.

  She pulled the patch from her pocket and laid it on the counter, certain that if the clubhouse was around the area, the waitress would know about it. “Do you recognize this?” she asked.

  The waitress frowned, bringing the patch closer to her eyes. “Hmm. Is this a jacket patch?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m looking for someone who might hang out at this place. The Blue Boys Clubhouse. Have you heard of it, or recognize the label?”

  At first, Kenzie thought she saw a glimmer of recognition cross the woman’s face. But soon the waitress was pushing the patch back across the counter, shrugging. “Sorry, babe. I don’t recognize it. Definitely not a part of this town, anyway. Maybe if you drive over to the surrounding towns you’ll find something? There are definitely a few too many bikers in the next town over, south of the mountains.”

  Disappointed, Kenzie nodded and thanked the waitress, eating the rest of her pie in soft, easy bites. She leaned back heavily, accepting her fate, which was a long afternoon of research. But she had to get started.

  Driving out of the small town, she swept eagle eyes from side to side, searching for any sign of the Blue Boys logo. Nothing seemed to match. The only bar in town had a familiar troupe of ragtag alcoholics out front, squabbling and bickering and smoking heavily. None of them seemed like the kind of company Bryce would keep, but she still pulled over, rolling her window down.

  “Hey, pretty lady,” one of them said.

  “Hi there,” Kenzie said, giving them a dull smile. They walked toward her slowly, tossing their cigarette butts to the ground and smashing them with their heels. “I wondered if you guys could answer a question for me?”

  “Anything for you,” one of them said.

  “Great,” Kenzie said, quickly, hoping to get her information quickly. “I’m friends with a man who lives in a cabin on the mountain. A guy named Bryce. Have you heard of him?”

  The men eyed each other, shrugging slightly. “There’s lots of men that live in these mountains, ma’am. Do you reckon you could get more specific?”

  “He drives a big truck?” Kenzie said, knowing she sounded foolish and laughing at herself. “Anyway, he’s also involved with a group called Blue Boys Clubhouse. Maybe motorcyclists. Heard of them?”

  The men shook their heads, giving her the same sad expression the waitress had. Kenzie thanked them and drove quickly away, keeping her eyes on the mountains. I will find you, Bryce, she thought. She knew it wasn’t the end of their time together.

  She continued toward the neighboring town, driving the car up and over hills, daydreaming about her babies. She hadn’t spent much time with children, not since she’d lived with her mother and her stepsiblings, and the idea of holding one in her arms made her heart ache.

  The next town over, a place called Jericho, had a remarkable view of Mount Mansfield. Kenzie parked near a local diner, one that seemed to be a cookie cutout of the previous diner. She wandered in, her hand on her belly, and ordered a cup of tea. After warming her hands over the steaming cup, she asked the waitress about Bryce and his Blue Boys, but again she received a shrug and an “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Kenzie thanked the woman, her shoulders slumping forward. She drove around the town a few times, winding down the main road with its general store and its gas station and its church, before giving up and heading to the next town, a place named Cambridge. She rolled the word over in her mouth, giving it a British accent in the privacy of her car.

  Cambridge. Bryce, will I find you there?

  As she drove, the sunlight began to dwindle. She grew nervous, knowing she didn’t have a place to stay that night—having thought she would have miraculously found Bryce by now. She parked in front of the downtown Cambridge bar, a shaded place with a blue Bud Light sign flashing in the window. She wandered from her car, inhaling the sharp, chilly air, and walked down the street, searching for that Blue Boys logo, or maybe just a place to eat some dinner.

  As she wandered past the final corner, peeking around the bar and seeing only firelight gleaming from the surrounding houses, she heard rapid footfalls behind her. Shocked, she turned quickly and found a man with a black hat pulled low over his ears. He growled at her and grabbed her purse, yanking it.

  Kenzie screamed. Her eyes flashed with panic, like a dog’s. She lurched back, falling to the sidewalk and yanking at her purse, trying to keep it. “SOMEONE! PLEASE! HELP!” she screeched. Blood pumped wildly in her ears.

  Someone rushed out of the dark, smoky bar beside them. He wrapped his arms around her attacker’s upper torso and yanked at him, pulling him toward the ground. The man immediately gave up on her purse and reared back, trying to get his balance. But the man who’d come to help her was far more powerful. After scrambling with the attacker for a moment, he pushed him against the brick wall of the bar beside them. The attacker’s head snapped back, banging against the hard wall.

  Kenzie quivered behind them, watching as the taller man of the two, wearing a red hat and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, demanded the attacker tell him who he was.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” the red-hatted man cried. “Get out of Cambridge. Leave our women alone. Do you even know what you’re doing? You don’t belong here.”

  Kenzie clung to her purse, shuffling back. The attacker’s face was babyish, with large cheeks and bulbous lips. She frowned at him, trying to memorize his face. Could she pick him out of a lineup?

  But the red-hatted man let the attacker go. The pair watched as the squirrely man rushed down the street and into the darkness, far away from the gleaming lights of the Cambridge main street. He was lik
e a rat returning to the sewers.

  “Oh my god, are you all right?” the man asked her, springing to her side again. He wrapped his hand around her arm and helped her up. She still quivered, her knees knocking together.

  “I think so,” she whispered, feeling tears spring to her eyes.

  “That was horrible. I saw the whole thing from the window,” he said, gesturing. “In Cambridge, mugging is rare. It seems you’ve had a bit of bad luck.” His eyes were deep brown, shining. It was clear he was attracted to her. Kenzie was just grateful for a friendly face.

  “I’ve never been here before,” Kenzie said. “I’m just passing through.”

  “Well, hopefully, so is he,” the man said. “I’m Gunner, by the way.” He shook Kenzie’s hand, leaning closer to her. “What do you say we get you a drink?”

  “Oh,” Kenzie said, thinking of the babies. “I could have a tea, I suppose. Get out of the cold for a minute. I’m—I’m Kenzie.”