Rocky Mountain Angels

by Jodi Bowersox [romance]

  Mari laughed. “Seriously?”

  He nodded and took the hand she extended to him. “I wouldn’t give you up for the world, but I only meant to tell you last night. Out of respect for Eli, I never intended to... well, we did a lot more kissing than I expected, and I’m feeling pretty guilty. It was difficult talking to him last night without telling him about you and me, but I just couldn’t spring it on him over the phone.”

  Mari looked concerned. “I know. This isn’t going to be easy, but I know in my heart it’s right.”

  Joe smiled. “Me, too.”

  ***

  Joe and Mari walked into the Rhodes house late Monday afternoon. Eli swept her up in a fierce hug and gave her a peck on the cheek before clapping Joe on the back. Mari wondered at that simple greeting. It was not what she expected after being gone a week and being in an accident that took her to the hospital for observation.

  After they got out of their coats, Eli waved them to the kitchen where he had coffee brewing and a tea kettle hot for tea. Mari exchanged a glance with Joe as they followed, and he gently laid his hand on her back, sliding down her soft red sweater. They slid into chairs at the table as Eli demanded “the whole story.”

  Joe and Mari took turns telling the tale of the blizzard, the cows, their wild ride into the pasture and the truck tipping due to a gully they couldn’t see with the snow cover. Saying it out loud did make Joe’s purchase of the Hot Hands seem providential, and the way they had saved Jackson Criswell, and he in turn saved them, had Eli shaking his head.

  “Ben and I... well, we were praying.”

  Mari’s eyes grew wide, and Joe smiled. “Thank you, Eli, we appreciate it.”

  Joe suddenly looked nervous and sipped his coffee. Mari knew it was her responsibility to tell Eli about her and Joe. She had pondered the right words nearly all the way home, but now that it was time to say them, they escaped her.

  Eli seemed to be studying her as she struggled to speak. He reached across the table and took her hand. “That’s quite a bird sanctuary you have started in your backyard.” He looked to Joe. “And a right handsome lamp post. I’m afraid my Hebrew is pretty rusty, so I had to look up the letters. You outdid yourself, brother. Very nice.”

  Joe shifted and leaned forward, his arms on the table. “Eli, I wasn’t trying to—”

  “No, you were just giving Mari something beautiful.” He looked back at her. “Something she would love.”

  Mari squeezed his hand. “Eli, this is difficult for us to tell you, but Joe and I—”

  “I know.”

  “You know?” Mari asked, feeling more than a little puzzled. “We didn’t even know until last night.”

  He released her hand and sat back in his chair. “Well, I should have said that I knew what Joe was feeling the second I saw your backyard. I wasn’t entirely sure about your feelings for him, but I knew he was the guy you should be with—the one you deserve.”

  Joe was shaking his head. “So you’re okay with this? Me and Mari?”

  Eli paused, looking from Mari to Joe and back again. “Mari, I still care about you very much—I nearly died waiting to hear from you two last night—but I don’t think we’re right for each other long term. You tried to tell me that in the beginning, and I should have listened.”

  Mari pushed away from the table with tears in her eyes and walked around to Eli. He rose and met her hug. “You will always be one of my best friends, Eli Rhodes. You’re a darned good neighbor and a first class angel.”

  The front door opened, and in walked Ben. He strode to the kitchen and captured both Joe and Mari in a hug. As they began the story all over again, Eli slipped out of the room and headed upstairs.

  Epilogue

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Joe, in a navy sleeveless t-shirt and shorts looked down at Mari in her sunny yellow tank top and black running shorts, her camera hanging around her neck.

  She looked up and up and up the Manitou Incline trail, studded with railroad ties, that ascended straight up the side of a mountain. “No, but I’m going to do it anyway. Are you guys going to race it?”

  “Not this time.” He took her hand. “I’m sticking with you.”

  “Good, ’cause you may have to carry me at some point.”

  He dropped her hand and slipped his around her waist, looking cocky. “Shall I use one hand or two.”

  She looked again up the steep trail. “Two.”

  Anticipation crackled around all those who came to make the climb. Some were going it alone while other large, rowdy groups were taking on the mountain together. There was almost a feeling of family among those making the climb—whether they knew each other or not.

  “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.”

  Joe looked at her, waiting.

  “Shakespeare,” she stated.

  Joe smiled and slid his hand up and down the curve of her waist. After four months, Mari still felt a wave of electricity when he touched her. She hoped she always would.

  Ben came up behind them. “Did you guys remember to bring water?” In answer, both he and Mari held up their bottles. “Good. Now if Eli and Sheri will get here, we can go.”

  Mari had been pretty nervous around Sheri at first—they were about as different as night and day—but she had finally warmed to her free spirit and off the wall sense of humor. And she and Eli certainly seemed to be compatible; they’d been dating now for almost as long as she and Joe.

  Mari snapped some photos while they waited, and she enlisted Ben to take a few of her and Joe. She had learned more than she ever imagined she would from her photography classes, and since Joe had insisted that she also take writing classes, she was improving her writing craft as well. One of her poems had been chosen to be in the spring school literary review magazine, and she couldn’t have been more thrilled.

  Finally Eli and Sheri arrived, and their small group joined the other hikers already aboard what looked very much like a ladder leaning against the mountain. Even though Joe had been training her for this climb by hiking with her on the various mountain trails in the area, it was still a challenge. The views were breathtaking, and Joe patiently stopped with her along the way while she took pictures, poetry swirling in her brain.

  It was a morning with a bright blue sky, the scent of pine floating on the breeze, and her favorite guy by her side. Mari wondered how anything could be more perfect. They reached the point 2/3 of the way up where there was an option to bail on the upward trek and go back down by way of the Barr Trail.

  Mari was sorely tempted as her legs were starting to feel the pain of the steep grade, but she didn’t want to let Joe down. Sheri was already past this point, and she refused to be a wimp. Starting again with determination, she slipped her hand in Joe’s.

  It was a tough climb that left little wind for conversing, but the silence seemed appropriate to the setting, and finally the end was in sight. Mari noted a series of signs toward the top. She stopped and focused her zoom lens in their direction. Hebrew. She quickly translated it: “Mari Baker.”

  Mari pulled her camera down and looked to Joe, who was casually taking in the view, but she could see a sparkle in his eyes. She took his hand again. “Joseph Rhodes, what were you doing last night when you said you were too busy to come over?”

  “Me? Oh, you know, I have lots of projects going on at the moment.”

  They continued to climb, and Mari took a picture of each sign. The second said: “I love you” and the third: “with all my heart.” By the time she read the last one, her heart was beating out a crazy rhythm that had nothing to do with the exertion of nearing the top of the mountain.

  She paused and looked to Joe, who was smiling down at her. He scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way. He set her down by the last sign that read: “Will you marry me?”

  Ben retrieved the camera from around her neck and started snapping pictures while Joe got down on one knee and pulled a small box out of the pocket of his s
horts. Mari started to cry as Joe asked her to walk with him on a new path—one that would last the rest of their lives. She said yes, and the small crowd at the top cheered. Then he slipped the ring on her finger and pulled her onto his knee.

  His kiss started out soft and gentle but turned passionate as she looped her arms around his neck, and his circled her waist. When the cheers started again, Mari pulled back, blushing. Joe rose, scooping her up with him, his eyes locked on hers. “I’ll love you forever, Mari Baker.”

  “I’ll love you forever, Joseph Rhodes.”

  She rested her forehead against his temple, content to let him carry her for awhile. They had their whole lives to walk side by side.

  Dazzling Joe, angel of my heart.

  Thank you for reading Rocky Mountain Angels. I hope you enjoyed it! If you liked this book, please consider rating it at Amazon.com. Your ratings and reviews help other readers find new favorites.

  Thanks for your support!

  About The Author

  Until recently, I lived with my husband and six cats in northeastern Kansas. We now live with four cats in Colorado Springs.

  I’ve worn many hats in my life, but I spend most of my creative talents these days on art and writing. You can read more about what I do at jodibowersox.com (be sure to check out my blog). You can also find me on Goodreads, Linked In, Pinterest, RedRoom, and Facebook (facebook.com/jodibowersoxartistry).

  In addition to romance, I have written two children’s stories, A Tale of Two Kitties and The Stubborn Princess under the pen name of J.B. Stockings.

  Read on for a sample of another one of my romances, Interiors By Design:

  Interiors By Design

  Chapter 1

  It’s too bright – impossibly bright.

  The little red-headed girl in overalls and a white t-shirt is running through flowers – sunflowers, daffodils, daisies. She stops to pick one. She lifts it to her nose, and a baby starts to cry. The little girl searches among the flowers but can’t find the baby.

  “Where are you, baby?” she yells.

  “It’s over here!”

  The girl looks up to see an old man motioning for her in the distance. She starts toward him, but a purple flower catches her eye. She stops to pick it, and when she looks up again, the man is gone.

  She climbs a hill to get a better view of the meadow. There is a flock of chickens at the top scratching and pecking around. As she surveys the meadow below, the chickens surround her. A rooster comes over the hill and stops when he sees her. The little girl sees the rooster and freezes, her heart pounding. The rooster cocks his head to one side and stares for a moment then charges. He jumps with spurs headed toward her chest and wings flapping at her face.

  Amanda Billings sat straight up in bed with a gasp, her long red hair plastered in a sweaty mass to her head. Looking frantically around the room, she could just make out jungle leaf wallpaper by the light of the street lamp shining in her window, and her breathing began to slow.

  “Another friggin’ nightmare,” she grumbled as she whipped off the sheets and pulled her sweaty night shirt over her head. Feeling around the corner of her closet, she grabbed a robe and slipped it on as she stumbled to the kitchen, flipping on her bedroom light on the way out. She opened the freezer and pulled out the Peanut Butter Panic ice cream. Touching the box to each cheek before opening it, she then popped off the lid and dug in with a spoon from the dish drainer.

  Is this my life now?

  She stood a moment staring at her white cupboards by the dim light coming from the lamp post in her backyard, then carrying the ice cream box with her, she left the kitchen and walked purposefully to the mantle in the next room. She turned on a small lamp and picked up a picture of herself in a black graduation gown, arm in arm with an older gentleman – the one from her dream. Putting it down, her eyes came to rest on a school picture of a teenage boy with a devilish grin.

  She ate another spoonful of ice cream.

  Spying her cell phone charging on a table by the front door, she grabbed it, pushed speed dial #1, and plopped down on the sofa beside her two cats, Buffy and Fiddlesticks, who were curled up together.

  Buffy was a blue-eyed moggy chocolate-point with a chocolate beard and half-mustache. Fiddlesticks was a grey and black striped tabby with a mostly white muzzle and underbelly, although tabby patches adorned her white legs in various spots. Disturbed from their slumber, they stretched, yawned, and trotted out to the kitchen.

  “Hello, my friend,” sang a young man accompanied by a ukulele, “thank you for calling me, but I’m not here right now…”

  Amanda smiled through the song, and at the beep, she left her message. “Yeah, it’s me. I just wanted to listen to your song – needed a laugh. Talk to you soon, Bro.” She ended the call but didn’t move from the sofa.

  I wish grandpa were really here.

  She ate several more spoonfuls of ice cream until she had scraped out the last of it, sighed, and forced herself up. She put the phone back on the table and headed to the kitchen to deposit the empty carton in the trash and the spoon in the sink. Then she headed back to her bedroom and turned out the light.

  Five seconds later, she turned the light back on.

  ***

  “What’s all the fuss about autumn, anyway?” Mick half said this under his breath as he clutched the collar of his grey wool sweater just a little tighter against the winds that swirled leaves bedecked with the usual fall garb around his shoes. These are just the colors of impending death.

  Mick didn’t say this out loud as a group of children were pushing past him in after-school exuberance, seemingly unaware of the wind, the chill, the steady march to bare trees and a lifeless world.

  Mick Thompson had put the finishing touches on the ad campaign he had been working on for three months not two hours ago, and already his excitement was lagging. He’d left work early to celebrate but realized during his trek home that he really had no one to celebrate with except his sister, Clarisse, and her family, and he knew she worked late on Thursday evenings. Maybe tomorrow night.

  The overcast sky was in no more of a celebratory mood than he was, and all alone on the cracked sidewalk in front of a row of townhouses, he once again took to mumbling out loud. “How does she stand this place? I’m driving tomorrow even if it takes me an hour to find a parking space.”

  Mick’s sister was a detective with the Kansas City Police Dept. and had talked him into moving to KC from California after his fiancée walked out on him two weeks before the wedding. This had been nearly a year ago, and he still knew practically no one and didn’t really care that he spent most of his evenings alone in front of the TV, a mindless lump of depression.

  Turning the corner, his medium build was met with the full force of the wind, which blew whatever small spark of good feeling still remained in him out his back and down the street.

  Why am I still here? He thought this last, as saying anything aloud proved difficult. He tucked his head down and pressed forward through the gale. Now that this project is finished, maybe it’s time to go home.

  Clare was wrong. Leaving didn’t help.

  Mick turned and climbed the stairs to his apartment building, making a mental note to dig his wool topcoat out of storage. He reached for the door, but it suddenly opened, revealing a petite redhead who was struggling to get out, her arms loaded with large, cumbersome books.

  He quickly moved to hold the door for her, and she threw him a smile and a “thank you” as she hurried out, her long hair flying both from the wind and her speedy departure. He watched her sail up the street until she unlocked the trunk of a sky blue Mustang parked half-way up the block and dumped the books inside. He was still standing there staring as she drove away, the wind mercilessly tousling his brown hair.

  ***

  “Oh my gosh, girl, how much candy did you buy?”

  Amanda, carrying two loaded grocery sacks, was making her way through the furniture displays of her interior decora
ting show room toward the tall, slender blonde with short, spiky hair sitting behind the counter. She grinned as she plunked the bags down in front of Sally, her friend and co-worker.

  “I get a lot of Trick or Treat-ers at my door,” Amanda defended, “and you know the crap that most people give out – that awful taffy stuff.” She pulled a snack-sized Snickers from one of her sacks and held it high. “I will not let children go home without chocolate.”

  Sally, dressed for Halloween in a green sweater and short orange skirt, tapped her temple with the tip of her pencil. “And there’s no point in having any leftovers that you don’t like, right?”

  Amanda grinned and tore open the wrapper. “Exactly.”

  Sally turned back to her customer worksheets. “You better watch your weight, girl. Look around. It’s not difficult to end up looking like a hippo.”

  Amanda took off her long grey trench coat, revealing a red button shirt atop an almost ankle-length black skirt and short boots, and stashed her bags of candy under the counter before plunking down in her chair to check her afternoon appointments.

  “I’ll watch it later,” she mumbled, her mouth full of chocolate.

  Amanda Billings was the owner and chief designer of Interiors by Design, and Sally Winters had been working for her as long as she had been in business – about three years. Having gone through college together, Sally was Amanda’s dearest friend and confidant.

  The show room was full of the colors, fabrics, and styles currently popular for windows, furniture, and walls. The displays were constantly changing, partly to keep their customers excited about the possibilities but mostly to keep themselves from becoming bored with the show room they worked in every day.

  As Amanda looked through her appointment book, Sally handed her a post-it note. “Mrs. Taylor called while you were out. She would like you to bring more samples – today, if possible.”