Mountain Man

by H. P. Mallory

  Before he could step forward and take his place in front of me, a woman with strawberry blonde hair stepped out of nowhere and was suddenly standing in front of me. I tried not to let the annoyance show on my face. After all, I’d been waiting for William for nearly three weeks, and she’d just cut in front of the line like she had a right to do so. I glanced at William, but he didn’t seem that concerned. Instead, he caught my gaze, smiled slightly, and then dropped his attention to the floor like he usually did whenever we made eye contact.

  But back to the rude woman. Her eyes were covered by huge black sunglasses that obscured nearly half her face. She was dressed in a tight, flattering white t-shirt and even tighter jeans. Her Chanel bag hung from the crook in her elbow which gave her a casually glamourous sort of appearance.

  I cleared my throat. “Can I help you?”

  I could feel her piercing gaze on me, and when she slipped off her glasses, I couldn’t help my surprise. With her large, wide-set green eyes, pert, small nose, and the beauty mark above her exaggerated lips, she looked like a movie star. What was more, she oozed confidence.

  “Yes, I’d like to make a deposit,” the woman said with a deep and sensual voice. Clearly, she wasn’t from around here. Carefully, as if she had all the time in the world, she began to root around in her purse until she finally pulled out a pink piece of paper with barely legible handwriting on it. She handed it to me, and I noticed it was an account number. Then she produced a wad of bills which she also handed to me. I promptly took them and began counting as quickly as I could, fully aware that we were due to close soon, and I still hadn’t waited on William. While I busily counting the bills, I felt the heat of the woman’s eyes on me. I looked up and found her studying me. I didn’t respond, other than to finish counting out the bills she’d handed me. Once I was able to successfully decipher the handwriting, I managed to deposit the money, and I gave her a professional smile.

  “Will that be all?”

  The woman squinted as if she was mulling over my question. Clearly she didn’t understand that time was of the essence. “Are you from here?”

  “Yes ma’am. I am. Now, was there anything else I could help you with?”

  “Is Marshall Heights a big town?” she asked as I frowned and wondered why she’d ask me such a weird question. All she had to do was open her eyes to see it was about as small as towns could get.

  “No, ma’am. This town is about as small as they come,” I offered as I tried not to make my impatience obvious.

  The woman fiddled with her purse before she took out a pack of cigarettes and opening the top, began to toy with them. Finally, she pulled one out and placed it between her teeth. Then she lit it. I was too stunned to say anything as a ring of smoke drifted towards me. I coughed and then finally found my voice.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but there’s no smoking allowed inside the bank.”

  The woman stared at me before she looked at her cigarette like it was the offending party. She raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to say something before she quickly shut it again and stubbed out the cigarette on the top of my counter.

  “Right. Well, I figured you might know your way around this town, so that’s why I was asking,” the woman continued as I reached for a paper towel under my counter and cleaned up the ashes from her cigarette. “I’m new here, and I’m looking for a place called Peak Mountain. Have you heard of it?”

  I didn’t wonder why she was looking for Peak Mountain which was so remote, most people didn’t bother going there. At this point, I just wanted this woman out of the bank so I could lose myself in William’s eyes for a few seconds. “That’s a few miles up north out of town. Just follow Main Street towards the mountain, and it will turn into Highway 3. That’s the only road to Peak Mountain.”

  The woman pursed her lips and nodded. “Right, thanks.”

  The silence stretched between us, thin and awkward as I waited for her to say something else or, better yet, leave. But she continued to stand there, just looking at me like there was something more she wanted to say or ask.

  “Well, thank you anyway.” The woman abruptly nodded, gave me a tight smile and strode off, leaving behind the strong smell of floral perfume in her wake. I watched her go with a strange sense of confusion. I expected her to walk straight out of the double doors and into some fancy car, but instead she lingered by the doors, and I could’ve sworn I saw her gaze slide toward William.

  Not that I was surprised. Most women tended to do that. It was hard not to notice him, just based on his physical presence alone. William didn’t notice as he walked toward me. I smiled at him before glancing back at the woman, but by the time I did, she was gone.

  “Angel,” William said in greeting as soon as he put his elbows on my counter, his voice a near whisper. Even though my name wasn’t Angel, it was the name William liked to call me. I figured it was because he noticed the silver cherub I wore around my neck. It was a pendant hanging from a chain that my mother gave me when I turned eighteen as a high-school graduation present. That was nearly four years ago.

  I never liked to take it off because it made me feel like someone was watching over me.

  But going back to William, I secretly cherished the nickname he’d given me, and I loved the way it sounded when it rolled off his lips. And speaking of his lips, I found myself gazing at them now and had to forcefully pull my attention away from them. The last thing I wanted was for William to know about this completely silly crush I harbored for him. Talk about embarrassing.

  “Hi,” I started, my voice sounding strained. “Um, hi, Mr. Black.”

  “William,” he corrected me.

  “William,” I answered as I thought about how mysterious this man was. I didn’t really know anything about him, well anything beyond the rumors, anyway. And, yes, there were lots of them.

  Rumors about how he’d been a policeman in Las Vegas, his forte busting drug offenders. As the stories went, after a skirmish in which his partner was shot, due to witness testimonies and hazy facts, he’d been considered the prime suspect in his partner’s death. Later he was found innocent and a few months after that, he’d moved to Peak Mountain, just outside of Marshall Heights.

  The same Peak Mountain that the bizarre woman had been looking for… Of course, there was clearly no connection between the two. William hadn’t even noticed her, and she’d said nothing to him, even if he had caught her attention, which he clearly had.

  Even though William had moved far, far away from Las Vegas, the stories and rumors followed him, persisting year after year. Sometimes it seemed like William Black was the only topic on anyone’s mind. Regardless of the fact that the law had found him innocent, it didn’t seem the townspeople here concurred.

  They all talked about him like he was guilty—like he was a murderer living among them, likely covering up an awful truth. I didn’t believe any of it for a second. I mean, it was pretty clear that he was trying to outrun something just based on the fact that he lived on a mountain with nothing but trees for neighbors. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were other people who lived on Peak Mountain, but they were few and far between. Regardless, the fact remained that William Black had fled from his Las Vegas life and taken up residence in the mountains just outside of Marshall Heights, preferring his own solitude to the company of other people.

  I couldn’t say I blamed him.

  Many times, I was highly tempted to do the same, and were it not for my mom and her sickness, I might’ve done just that. Nevertheless, William’s reasons for doing what he did were his business, and his alone. I failed to see how anyone thought themselves worthy to play judge, jury, and executioner all at once.

  “How are you, Mr. Black?” I asked with a smile. Whenever he came into the bank, which was usually once every couple of weeks, I was always the one to wait on him. And that wasn’t by chance. William wanted me to wait on him. If another teller were free, he would step to the side and allow the next person in line
to take his place. But as soon as I freed up, he was quick to take his rightful place in line again.

  I had no idea why he did that, but it filled me with a warm feeling inside. A really warm feeling. It was actually the only time I looked forward to coming to work—with the thought that maybe William would come to visit.

  It was strange to feel that way about a man I barely knew, and yet I had the feeling that I did somehow. Even though William and I had probably said a total of twenty sentences to each other over the course of his visits, I felt a kinship with him. I felt like I understood him, that I got him. I could only hope that he understood that about me too, that he didn’t just think my warm smiles and easy chatter was due to the fact that he was my customer.

  “Call me William,” he corrected me for the umpteenth time. For some reason, whenever he came into the bank to do his business, my frazzled mind always reverted to calling him Mr. Black.

  “William,” I responded as he towered over me. At five feet six, I was no small woman but that didn’t change the fact that William Black was enormous.

  Donna guessed him to be a few inches over six feet and I believed her.

  “How’s your day going?” I asked him, smiling somewhat shyly. In general, I’m not a shy person, but there was something about William that suddenly made me rethink every word that came out of my mouth.

  “It’s going,” he answered as he stared at me. It was almost like he was looking right through me.

  I never cared for small talk, but with William, it seemed like small talk was the only way to converse with him. I mean, he never offered any personal information and even though we both would sometimes fall victim to the long stretches of silence between us, our eyes were always connected. In any case, even small, polite chitchat was better than nothing at all. And nothing was what most people got from him, so I was grateful he at least took the time to talk to me even if it was about mundane and trivial things like how our days were going.

  He shoved his left hand into his jacket pocket and appeared to be fumbling with something. I couldn’t help but notice every person’s eyes were on him, boring holes into the back of his head. I was more than sure he noticed it too. If it bothered him, he gave no obvious indication. In fact, he took the looks and whispers like a pro—like they didn’t affect him. Almost like he didn’t even notice that anyone else was in the bank. He acted like it was just the two of us, just him and me.

  “We haven’t seen you in a while,” I continued, trying to make conversation because I liked to lengthen our visits, brief though they always were.

  I tried not to stare at him, but it was really hard not to. He was just so ruggedly handsome, so larger than life. His presence seemed to command the room, and my eyes always drifted back to his face whenever I tried to drag them away.

  He nodded and seemed preoccupied somehow, like his mind was anywhere but on this conversation. “I’ve been pretty busy,” he answered in that deep, throaty and rich voice of his.

  His voice felt like butter sliding across my skin.

  “I can tell,” I replied with a little laugh as I motioned to his hair and beard. “You look like you haven’t seen the business end of a razor in a while.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I instantly felt my cheeks coloring because I was afraid I might have offended him. And that was the last thing I ever wanted to do! I had no idea what had gotten into me. It was like my mouth suddenly had no filter, and I was dimly aware of the fact that I was trying to tease him, but I was fairly sure he wouldn’t see it that way. We just didn’t have that sort of easy, jesting relationship.

  He immediately ran his fingers through his beard and it looked like the tan of his cheeks turned a light shade of rose. Had I actually made William Black blush?

  I didn’t think such a thing was possible.

  He cleared his throat. “Ahem, yes,” he said as he dropped his gaze to the top of my counter and refused to meet my eyes. “I suppose it has been a while.” He looked suddenly uncomfortable, as if my comment had done exactly what I hoped it hadn’t.

  Great job, Delilah, I chided myself. I’d offended him. So, what if he hadn’t shaved in a while? Why did I have to point it out and stick my foot in my mouth? If I was trying to get on his good side, I was definitely off to a bad start.

  “I,” I started as my heart began to thump inside my chest, flooding my ears with its incessant beating. It sounded so loud, I half-wondered if he could also hear it. “I didn’t mean to…offend you,” I said in a very soft voice, not wanting anyone else to overhear us. “I just meant that…” my voice trailed off as he lifted his eyes and stared right at me.

  I swallowed hard as I took in their beautiful blue and the way his pitch-black eyelashes brushed his upper cheeks whenever he blinked. His black brows were bushy, and I had to wonder if he shaved or plucked them in the middle. They were that thick. “I just meant that,” I repeated, once I realized he was waiting for me to finish my thought. “Your beard just…hides the rest of your face and…it, uh, kind of draws attention away from…your lovely dark-blue eyes.”

  Once I was finished verbally stumbling all over myself, I wanted to crawl under the nearest rock and die. If William was a little pinkish in his cheeks before, he was downright red now.

  Clearly, I was only making things worse. My mouth didn’t seem to care, it was just charging full speed ahead while my mind happily dozed off on the veranda. I felt like a complete and total moron telling this wild man that he had lovely blue eyes. What was I thinking? William was about as rugged a man as they came, and I doubted sincerely that he had any interest in whether his eyes were pretty or not.

  “Thank you,” he answered underneath his breath as he jammed his right hand into his pocket and pulled out a folded check. He immediately thrust the check at me and I took it without saying anything that might make me sound like an even bigger idiot.

  I was suddenly reminded of Abraham Lincoln’s quote that went something along the lines of it being better to be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.

  Truer words were never spoken.

  Chapter Four

  William

  I was blushing like a little girl. And as such, I felt completely foolish. Angel had noticed my unkempt appearance and play-scolded me for it. Of course she would have noticed that I’d failed to shave or get a haircut! What was wrong with me that I wouldn’t have checked my reflection in the mirror before making the trek down the mountain? Especially when I looked forward to nothing more than the five to seven minutes I had in Angel’s company every two to three weeks. Now I’d gone and spoiled it.

  “I,” she started, a crimson blush stealing over her cheeks. I’d embarrassed her by being embarrassed by her, and I had no clue how to rewind things so they were back to being comfortable again. Conversation had never been one of my strong suits and since I’d been living by myself for the last two years or so, I’d gotten even worse at it.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” she finished finally, her huge, sky-blue eyes lifting to meet mine. Her milky blonde hair framed her face in waves of platinum, cascading down around her shoulders and ending just beyond her breasts. Breasts which I had a hell of a time ignoring, especially since her button-down, collared bank shirt was a size or more too small. Huge gaps decorated the spaces in between the buttons, and I was more than certain that if I were looking at her from the side, I’d be able to see clear through to her bra. That was, no doubt, why her douchebag of a boss kept sending her sidelong glances.

  “You didn’t,” I answered quickly, my voice probably coming out a little too harsh. She just nodded and then dropped her attention to the check she was in the process of dispensing into my account. I came here often enough that she had my account number memorized.

  I fingered the wooden angel figure where it sat in my pocket as I debated whether or not to give it to her. Part of me just wanted to see her smile, and I had a feeling my gift would do just that. The other part of m
e, though, felt like I was just some stupid oaf with a crush on a woman who was all kinds of wrong for me. First of all, she had to be nearly half my age. And at thirty-five, I wasn’t exactly young. But that was only the icing on the cake. Deep down, inside the cake, was a whole other story.

  My Angel was pure. She was good. I didn’t need to know her well to have figured that much out. I could tell by the way she smiled at all the assholes she waited on. I could tell by the kindness in her gestures, by the fact that she never lost her temper with anyone, never mind whether they were being complete and total dicks to her. For my part, I never understood her unflagging patience. Were it up to me, I would have jumped over the counter and wrung their scrawny little necks. Needless to say, it was a good thing I wasn’t in customer service.

  No, Angel was no good for me because she was way too good for me. I was darkness, blackness—my entire being ugly and scarred. Whereas she was sunlight and rainbows and butterflies and all that other girly shit, there was nothing but sludge within me. I was consumed by a sickness, a scourge that penetrated all the way into the depths of my being. I was broken and defective. I was no good.

  “I hope you won’t stay away so long this time…William,” Angel said as she lifted her eyes to mine once more and her full lips began to part, revealing her straight white teeth. My gaze immediately shifted to those plump lips as I started to harden inside my pants. I fisted my hands in my pockets, feeling completely ashamed of myself.

  What kind of pervert was I? Merely looking at Angel’s perfect mouth made me hard? What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just think to myself: she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen and leave it at that? This was proof—proof of the fact that I was a bad seed, perverted and rotten all the way down to my core.