by Ellie Hall
The way the kiss made her feel confirmed that she was right: safe, sure, and full in a way no meal could ever satisfy. If only he’d admit he felt the same way.
Chapter 8
Rocky
Gravy and biscuits. Rocky had done it. He’d gotten too close. But Frankie wasn’t wrong. He did have feelings. Big ones. Ones he didn’t know what to do with. It was like her laughter was still echoing off the mountains. It had worked its way into his ears. Into his heart. He didn’t know what to do.
He was on a hike with the dogs in the woods and strode along the trail. He’d gone deep into hiding for years. But she’d drawn him out. Her laughter, her voice, her insistence. Her beauty—inside and out.
A vista of Hawk Ridge and the valley spread in every direction—the tiny town below and a bird circling high above. The tops of the mountains were wreathed in snow, but below, the evergreens persisted beneath the tree line. They were still alive. And so was he. Thanks to Frankie. She’d brought him back to life. Reminded him that he wasn’t terrible. She saw the goodness in him. She had a way of making him feel comfortable in her presence. For once, he felt like talking.
And listening. He felt called just then. Called by the Lord to drop to his knees, say a prayer of repentance, and see that he was worth being saved. He hadn’t believed that for too long. So he dropped into the snow and closed his eyes.
The dogs paused. Waited.
A sense of calm, true peace, washed over him. Not the self-imposed kind from retreating to the mountain for all those years, but the kind that only came from faith. When he blinked his eyes open the vista of the mountain and six peaks filled his vision as though reminding him that they were there, they’d always been there even when he sometimes felt alone. Just like his Heavenly Father had always been there even if Rocky didn’t acknowledge it a the time.
Tears sprung to his eyes and then laughter spilled from his lips. Happy tears. Deep, belly laughter of relief. God was good.
When Rocky got back to the cabin, he tended to the dogs and then went into the bathroom. The reflection of a man he hardly recognized stood in the mirror. Shaggy hair. A big beard. Who had he become? He didn’t blame himself for holing up in the mountains with the dogs. At the time it had been necessary. But was it still?
He looked deep into his gray eyes—something he hadn’t been able to do for years. He wasn’t sure who he was becoming, but it would be the best version of himself, for Frankie.
He took out the scissors and started trimming. The click of claws on the wood floor pricked his ears. Kuma was watching. And whining.
“What is it, girl?”
She let out one sharp bark and then someone knocked on the door.
He glanced in the mirror and laughed. With his lower face covered in shaving cream, he looked like Santa Claus. He grabbed a hand towel and wiped it off.
When he opened the door, Frankie slid into his arms like she’d been doing so all along like she belonged there. What would it mean if she did?
She pecked him on the lips and then pulled back, sniffing the air. “You smell like...like shaving cream?”
When she looked at him, really looked at him in his T-shirt and likely with some of the white foam in spots he’d missed, her eyes widened.
He shifted from foot to foot. “I was just finishing up.” He thumbed the direction of the bathroom.
“Well, don’t let me stop you.” Her lips twitched like she was looking forward to seeing what he looked like under all that scruff.
They went to the bathroom and she hoisted herself up on the counter while he squirted out another handful of shaving cream. He slowly dragged the razor across his skin. In a way, he was curious to see what he looked like without the beard. It had been five years since he’d started growing it.
“I was in town earlier and there is a rumor that women are placing bets over who can tame the mountain man.”
He’d heard. In fact, when he went to get supplies, women flirted, gave him their numbers, and asked him on dates. Did they see what he looked like? When Frankie had called him a Yeti, she wasn’t kidding.
“How did that happen?” she asked.
“What? The beard or the bets?”
“Both. A woman told me, and I quote, ‘Rocky Hawkins is handsome, wealthy, and lonely. He has everything he needs except love.’” Her words had a smile tucked in them.
He rinsed off the razor, having just finished shaving, wiped his face, and turned to her. He didn’t want to see his reflection first. He wanted to see her reaction.
She had hearts in her eyes and her cheeks tinted a pretty rose color. It was not what he expected. Not with the evidence of his wrongdoing on his skin. She batted her eyelashes and then tried to keep her smile from her lips. Either that or it was building.
“Wow. You. Are. Hot.” Her grin broke through and she kissed him passionately.
“And what do you say, queen of the mountain?” he asked when they pulled apart.
“About what the mountain man needs or what he looks like?” Her throat moved up and down as she swallowed.
“Both.”
Her smile was both wicked and beautiful. Her arms circled his neck and she pulled him close, still seated on the counter. “I say, you’re all mine.”
At that, they melted together in another kiss. Her face was so smooth next to his. Her lips warm. Their pulses quickened together and then fell into the same rhythm as though they’d finally found what they wanted, needed and were no longer afraid, weren’t going to run away.
She tucked her head back and then between kisses on every inch of his face even the scar, she said, “I like the beard. It gave you a certain kind of wildness, but I like this too. You are very, very handsome, Rocky Hawkins.”
“And you are more beautiful than I deserve, but if you’re truly willing to give me a chance, I’ll be less of a grouch.”
“Less of a grouch?”
He tipped his head from side to side. “I’ll prove that I’m not the Grinch.”
“Oh fine, I’ll take what I can get.”
He nuzzled his head into the side of her neck, kissing her there and breathing deep. He inhaled as though his lungs finally let him breathe. She smelled like rosemary and lemon, fresh and clean and delicious. When he pulled back, he said, “You’re glowing.”
“That could be because I treated myself to the spa down at the resort. It was a little Christmas gift for me. I had a Scandinavian hot bath and then a Nordic shower. Then I had a scrub and massage. It was amazing.” She paused and wiped a bit of shaving cream that he missed from his neck. “While I was there, I saw Cece Sparrow and her fiancé...”
His stomach dropped. The air left the room.
“Your brother, Blake.” She stopped and it seemed like there was something she wasn’t saying.
Did she know about the will? The stipulation? She was always so forthcoming. Surely, she’d just say it.
“I had a total fangirl moment. She is such an amazing singer and performer. And—”
He interrupted. He had to just say it. “The reason there’s a bet over who’ll tame the mountain man or whatever... It’s because of my father’s will. He mandated his sons marry before receiving their inheritance and taking over the family business.”
“Oh,” she said slowly. “But you don’t want to get married?”
After everything that had happened the answer had always been no. There was no question about it. That answer was on his lips before he had a chance to rethink it. “It’s probably not a good idea. Things happened... I’m not the kind of person anyone would want to be with.”
Her expression dimmed.
There were things about his past she didn’t know. She wouldn’t want to be with him if she knew the full story. As it was, he was playing with fire. Getting too close. He didn’t want to burn her. That was why he’d wanted to leave when they were making gingerbread houses. He felt it becoming too much and if she found out the truth, she’d leave him. She’d never want to
talk to him again. Yet he couldn’t stay away.
But she was leaving soon anyway—she’d only be at the cabin through Christmas. She’d said so herself. She’d done what she’d set out to do—find out if he was actually a grump. He may as well indulge the fantasy bubble that they’d created while he could.
One of the dogs barked and he led Frankie from the bathroom. He needed some space. The fire was dying so he tossed on a couple of logs.
She glanced at his old ice skates still sitting in the corner where he’d dropped them five years ago. The streak of blood was hidden from view, but every time he looked at them, he knew the truth of who he was.
“Want to teach me how to ice skate?” she asked.
Again, the answer was on his lips. No. Absolutely not. She didn’t wait for him to answer.
“I’ve tried once. I can’t stay upright.”
“I somehow doubt that. You’re the kind of woman who can do anything. Include taming the mountain man.”
She picked up the skates.
He stiffened, his entire body going rigid.
She twirled them in her hand, the blades flashing. “I somehow doubt I tamed you. Wouldn’t want to anyway. I like you the way you are.”
She wouldn’t if she really knew him. The dark thought threatened to consume Rocky.
But her hand was in his, leading him to the door. “I’m not letting you out of this one. You teach me how to skate and I’ll treat you to dinner.”
He couldn’t really say no. And he was thankful the intense moment of truth had passed. She hadn’t pressed him about the will or his brothers. There was so much he didn’t want to talk about, no less think about and teaching her how to ice skate would make a good distraction.
Rocky pulled into one of the distant lots attached to the resort. In years past, the entrance and surrounding fences would’ve been decorated in Christmas lights, wreaths, and ribbons. His father was fastidious about making sure every inch of the resort had a touch of magic, both during the holidays and regular times. He knew that without upholding his end of the will and getting married.
By not going along with his father’s wishes, he held his brothers in a sort of hostage situation. They weren’t able to move forward with taking the leadership roles their father had assigned them, meaning the board and trustees maintained control over everything from décor to finances to spa treatments. But it shouldn’t have been a problem because Charles Hawkins the Second had given explicit instructions for how the resort was to be run in his absence by the new manager of the board—Welk, the guy whose lawyer sent him monthly mailings offering him a sum of money if he married and then sold Welk his share. For many reasons, it was a no, but he’d never marry because he didn’t trust himself.
The main rink on the resort property and the public skating area as part of the Winter Festival were likely to be packed. After spending most of his childhood and a good part of his adulthood there, he knew his way around.
With Frankie’s hand in his, they walked down a lantern-lit path to an area with an arrangement of wooden benches. He expected someone to be tending to it, for the hot chocolate shack to be operating, and at least a few people taking off their skates or setting out. Maybe the popularity of the rink in town had rendered this section a financial loss. Ordinarily, it was bustling.
He pulled out his keyring. Thankfully, he still had the master and hoped it worked. Sure enough, he was able to open up the ice skate locker and found a pair that would fit Frankie. He also turned on the lights that lined the trails. The sky was gray and dusk descended. It would snow again soon. Hardly a day passed in the winter up north when it didn’t.
They laced up and the moment he stood, a blaze of excitement flooded him as it always had since the moment he’d started skating. It was like electricity in his veins.
Before he could hide his smile, Frankie’s eyebrow arched. “I’ve never seen you wearing a smile like that.” She wobbled closer, getting used to balancing on the blades. He didn’t want to explain, but kissed her on the lips and then rushed onto the ice. He pumped his legs, moving in a circle. That part of the pond wasn’t big, but it was merely the entry point to the ice-covered trails that threaded the woods.
He missed flying across the ice with the wind in his lungs and his heart thundering. But she was mistaken, he had smiled that big before. Maybe just on the inside, but every time he was with her, he felt lit up. Alive. He didn’t want to think about it ending or her finding out the truth. He’d better enjoy her company while he could.
He looped back to where she waited, taking her hands in his.
She said, “I want to do that.”
He tipped his head back with laughter. “Of course you do. First, let’s see if you can stand on the ice.”
She gripped his arm as she crossed from the wooden platform onto the pond. Then, as if she were a natural or had fibbed about not knowing how to skate, she glided forward.
He caught up to her and circled his arms around her from behind and kissed her cheek. “You sure you don’t know how to ice skate?”
She giggled in response.
They moved forward, onto the ice trails. The frozen surface below them sparkled and the lights around them twinkled.
“This is amazing,” she said as they skated hand in hand. “It’s enchanted.” Her eyes were filled with wonder as she looked from the canopy of trees above to the lights to him.
“My father encouraged me to play hockey. He was so supportive, but he didn’t only want it to be about competition. This trail leads to the skating pond for the guests, but originally, he made this for me. For us. We’d come here and skate together. While we were out here, I wasn’t allowed to talk about the sport. I think he wanted me to remember why I love skating so much.”
“That’s amazing. He sounds like a really special guy and a great dad.”
Rocky nodded, feeling a scratch in his throat. “He was.”
“Do you miss it?” The tenderness in her eyes said what she didn’t—did he miss his dad? All the time.
He cleared his throat. “Do I miss playing hockey? Yeah. Every day.”
“What made you stop skating and playing hockey? You mentioned that you quit. Did it have something to do with your father’s will?”
He skated away and then came back to her. He trusted her. She’d thawed him out, helped the bricks of ice he’d erected around himself to melt. But the question felt like a gust of cold air drafting down the mountain.
He wasn’t sure where to start. Everything from the past had flowed together in one confusing lump of ice and rock that pushed against his chest.
“I had a sister and she passed. After that, our mother took off.”
Frankie nodded and it was almost like she knew or wasn’t at all surprised. Maybe she was just listening, giving him space to go on.
“Everything changed after that. Dad did the best he could and believe me, his best was lightyears ahead of what most men could pull off. He was a giant, a legend. My hero.”
The cold air made Rocky’s eyes water as they slid forward, moving through the timeline of his past. “Then he was in a skiing accident. He passed away. It felt like my world ended. He was everything to me. To all of us.”
She gripped his hand tighter as though letting him know she was with him as he weathered the storm of emotions he kept so tightly inside. “I threw myself into hockey...” What happened next, he didn’t want to tell her. But maybe he could tell her part of it.
“As for my father’s will, if I got married and then took over my share of Hawkins Enterprises, I’d be tied to the company. I didn’t want to stop playing hockey,”
“Was there someone you wanted to marry?” Her voice wasn’t particularly small, but curious.
He shrugged. “Not really. I dated and all that, but no one like—” He squeezed her hand. He couldn’t finish the statement because of what it could mean. Her finding out the full story and leaving him.
“Anyway, according to the will,
if I marry I’d get a huge inheritance. Like so much money I’d never need to play hockey again. At the time, it was the only thing keeping me going. There’s a saying that’s like, with wealth comes responsibility. Not freedom. I was young and that’s all I cared about. I—”
“What’s wrong with responsibility?”
“At the time, I wanted to do things on my terms. Not have to meet with the stodgy board, have to fake my way through meetings, and pretend to care about fiscal data.”
“What do you care about?”
They paused and he took both of her hands in his. He angled his skates so they were facing each other. “The dogs. The earth. Home. You. I care about you.”
It was too late. He’d said it. There was no going back. He couldn’t imagine the pain of inevitably losing her, but he knew what he’d do. Return to the mountain, let his beard grow again, and be with the dogs.
She lifted onto her toes and kissed him on the lips. Her nose was cold, but she was warm. Her mouth against his erased his thoughts. Melted him. It could very well be the last kiss that they shared. Any of them could. All she’d need to do was an internet search with his name and the word hockey. The evidence was even on his cheek, having been hidden by the beard, but she didn’t seem to care. That was because she didn’t know the truth.
After the kiss, they continued skating.
“What about you and your brothers?” she asked after a beat. “How do they feel about the will and everything?”
“We had a falling out. Family had always been the most important, but I guess we don’t give each other second chances.”
“What if you did?”
He didn’t want to linger in his emotions, but couldn’t help but think about Tripp, his oldest brother and how he’d missed his wedding to his high school sweetheart, Sadie. She’d given him a second chance.
Dallen and Blake were twins. Dallen had found love and was living on the ranch with his new wife Kayla. He’d heard she had grown a beautiful flower garden. Blake, of course, had publicly proclaimed his desire to marry Cece Sparrow, the world-famous singer.
