by Nicole Casey
Like me, he was a roughneck and despite the years between us, I liked the kid for his work ethic.
I didn’t much care for the way he followed me around like a puppy dog but compared to the other assholes in the crew, he was a breath of fresh air.
“I’m going to work tomorrow for Greg. His wife just had twins,” Aaron volunteered and I stifled a sigh along with the urge to say, “Who the fuck cares?”
Instead, I nodded again, picking up my stride and hoping to leave the boy in my wake.
But that was not apt to happen.
“What are you doing this weekend? Want to grab a drink with me after work tomorrow?”
“Can’t. Working on the house,” I replied and I cringed at my reply. Why had I offered that part? There was no need for Jessup to know my weekend plans.
“Are you still doing renovations?” he asked, his voice rising in surprise. “What are you working on now?”
I didn’t want to tell him anything but it was my own fault for bringing it up.
“The second floor,” I answered begrudgingly.
“You need some help?” he asked and I shook my head.
“No.”
I hurried away before he could say anything else, disappearing into the locker room to lock up my keys and wallet before heading back on deck.
I had done my speaking quota for the day.
I hoped the rest of the afternoon would go by quietly.
My day ended at three o’clock and I went directly from work into Cedar City for supplies.
I was looking forward to returning home.
Somehow, I felt like the day had been longer than others even though the hours were the same as any other workday.
It just seemed that talking to people drained me and I had been forced into more conversation than usual that Saturday.
Even on the way out, Aaron had managed to corner me and offer his help yet again.
For a fleeting second, I had considered accepting it.
Another set of hands might move things along after all and the kid wasn’t so bad.
Immediately, I wondered what the hell I was thinking.
The kid would drive me crazy if I accepted his help. He would talk my ear off and I would end up snapping at him, even though it wouldn’t be his fault. It was a recipe for disaster.
And, I didn’t want anyone in my haven.
The cabin was for me and the dogs, no one else.
“Harding!”
I couldn’t stuff back the groan as I heard my name and I looked up as Old Man Cane shuffled along the side of the counter at Able Cane’s Hardware.
“Hey, Cane,” I offered, turning toward the shelves, hoping he would leave me alone to find what I wanted.
I couldn’t possibly be so lucky.
Cane had known my father a hundred years ago and the old man considered himself some unofficial guardian of me.
I knew he meant well but he was just another person infringing on my desire to be alone.
I much preferred it when his son, the sullen-faced Stephen was at the counter, his acne-scarred face pressed into his tablet.
“What will it be today, son?” Cane crowed and I winced at the volume of his voice.
“Just looking for some things for the house,” I replied, flashing him a tight smile. “I know what I need.”
“Eh?” the old man yelled and I bit my lower lip. It didn’t help matters that he was deaf.
I held up a bag of cement to show him I was finding everything just fine and he nodded through rheumy eyes, coughing into the air freely.
In reality, Cane couldn’t be more than sixty but he looked a hundred.
He had grown up in the mountains also but unlike Jacob Jackson, when Cane had married better, he brought himself out of poverty and into town instead of subjecting his family to poverty and disease.
Even two years after my father’s death, I still wondered what he was thinking, keeping my mom away from the luxuries she could have had if he had just bit the bullet and gotten a job on the rig.
How much different would I be if he had done that?
But the “what if” game was for children, not grown men.
We each make our own destiny.
Anyway, dad was dead. There was no way to ask him what the hell he was doing and how he slept at night.
“How are those renos comin’ along?” Cane asked, following me around the store and I bobbed my head with phony enthusiasm, relying on body language more than words.
“I can’t wait to come up there and see it but I don’t much head that way anymore. These old bones can’t handle the mountain climate much.”
“When it’s all finished, you’ll have to come,” I replied emptily. I didn’t mean it of course.
I sped up my shopping as Cane continued to ramble in my ear, my mind only half registering what he was saying.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door open and a strange looking man wandered inside. I was hardly one to notice an oddity in someone else but there was something about this man which stood out to me for some elusive reason.
“Randolph, how are you?” Cane called, excusing himself from my side. I was grateful for the distraction and I turned my full attention back to my shopping, the newcomer all but forgotten.
I finished up as Cane talked to the pale, emaciated man standing at the counter.
Snatches of Cane’s end of the conversation flittered toward me but I really had no interest in anything but getting my shit and getting out of there.
I ventured toward the cash as the strange man stepped aside to let me unload my purchases.
“Go ahead,” the too-thin man said to me before turning back to the proprietor. “Cane, you will let me know if you hear anything?”
“Of course,” Cane called. “Damned shame.”
I noticed the man (Rudolph?) cast Cane a warning look but the owner didn’t seem to notice.
“Tell Denton I will spread the word, Randolph,” Cane assured him. “Should we put out flyers or – ”
Randolph, not Rudolph. Not that I cared much. Both names were stupid.
“NO!” the man cried and even I was startled by the vehemence in his words. Instantly, he caught himself, offering a tight smile.
“I mean, there is no cause for alarm. I’m sure she’ll turn up.”
Cane shrugged and Randolph turned to leave.
I felt my eyes narrowing as the skinny man excused himself, hurrying from the store.
Although I was curious, I didn’t bother to ask. I didn’t want to give Cane more reasons to talk.
Anyway, I knew he would volunteer his own information.
“You haven’t seen a young girl around in these parts, have you?” Cane asked and I snickered.
“Have you checked Wendy Lou’s? That’s where they all seem to end up these days,” I joked but Cane shook his weathered head.
“Not this one. Blonde girl? Skinny?”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” I told him and Cane chuckled.
“I suppose you’re right,” he replied. “But I’ll be damned if I can remember what she looks like now. It’s been years since I’ve seen Eloise Danzer.”
I reached for my wallet as he slowly rang up my selections, eyeing him as he laboriously worked on the task at hand.
Almost done here, I thought, willing myself not to lose my patience with the old man.
“Has she gone missing?” I asked reluctantly, hoping that filling the silence would make the process less painful.
“Looks like,” Cane replied. “Probably runoff. That was her step-brother. Strange family over there.”
I could relate to that assessment.
Once upon a time, the Jacksons were the strange family, I thought wryly.
“Hope they find her,” I replied without any real sincerity.
What the hell did I care if the runaway was found or not? Who could blame her for wanting to flee Utah?
Suddenly, I remembered the blonde girl I had see
n on the road that morning and a slight chill slid through my body.
Could that have been Eloise Danzer?
I opened my mouth to ask for more details about the missing girl but Cane cut me off.
“One hundred twelve dollars, six cents, Harding.”
I stared at him for a second, my mind whirling.
If the girl I had seen was Eloise and she had been in trouble, she would have flagged me down for help, wouldn’t she?
She clearly did not want to be found and I was not about to get involved in some teenaged domestic situation.
I made the decision to keep my mouth closed and my ears open.
Peeling six twenties out of my wallet, I told Cane to keep the change, hurrying to load up my truck.
Bidding Cane goodbye, I jumped into the cab and left the lot, my eyes scanning the area for Randolph but he was nowhere to be seen.
It’s none of your business, I reminded myself, making my way toward Cedar Canyon Drive, out of the city.
I consciously exhaled as the town disappeared behind me, the hour-long drive back to my cabin filling me with a familiar sense of peace.
The afternoon sunlight was blazing through a cloudless blue sky and by the time I slipped up the mountain road, I had left the anxiety of people well behind me.
I was already going through the mental checklist as the F150 gripped the dirt curves, my mind on autopilot as I managed the treacherous curves.
Feed the dogs, have supper and start on the second floor. I’ll finish the planking and framework tonight before –
I slammed on the brakes, my body lurching forward as my gut jumped into my stomach.
She stood on the side of the road, her face almost gray as she stared at me with haunted eyes.
My initial evaluation of her had been off. She was not a teenager, although she did look very young, at least ten years my junior.
Our gazes locked and for a minute, I didn’t know what to do, my heart pounding with anticipation as I took in her matted blonde hair and shivering frame. Once upon a time, her tresses had been pulled into a fishtail, flipped over the side of her left shoulder but it had long since come loose. The strands hung in limp strands to her ribcage, amass with twigs and greenery.
She was dressed in dated clothes, like an Amish girl in simple homespun clothes and I realized that Randolph had been in the same style of attire.
That was what my subconscious was trying to tell me at Cane’s store, I determined but none of that seemed as important as I tried to figure out what to do with her at that moment.
Her pale lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something and I pushed the truck in park, seeing the panic on her face.
I knew for certain that she needed my help and as I opened the driver’s side door to call out to her, my mind racing.
But no sooner did my foot touch the road did she spin and run, disappearing into the ravine beyond, leaving me gaping after her in disbelief.
4
Eloise
I don’t know how long I had been standing in that spot or why I had chosen that particular point to stare off into nothingness but I saw the morning light dissolve into that of the afternoon, the temperature only rising slightly.
It was a relief from the cold of the night but I was chilled to the bone and unable to shake the mounting weakness in my body.
I simply could not go on anymore.
I had lost all sense of direction, the fleeting short sense that I had. I knew my best chance of finding help was on the road but it also increased my chances of being caught by Sir.
What had I done? What would they do to me when they caught me?
I shuddered, falling into the ditch, waiting.
If Sir or one of the others appeared around the corner, I would simply run into the woods, losing them in the thick before I could be found.
I had to take my chances on the road.
At some moment, I had found a fresh mountain stream and thirstily filled up on as much water as my stomach could handle but it made me feel heavy and sluggish. And it made me colder, the water freezing.
Never in my twenty-one years of life had I been closer to death, I was sure but I wasn’t sure if that was the worse fate.
I closed my disconsolate eyes, waiting for any signs of help, wracking my mind for a better plan but I was far too weak.
Hours passed and no one car drove in either direction, neither up nor down the road. I could not manage another step, my exhaustion and drive depleted entirely.
That was when I heard the rumble of an engine heading my way.
I thought I had imagined it at first but as my eyes shot open, I knew it was not a dream.
Someone was coming finally!
My eyelids felt like glue but I managed to open them, forcing myself to step toward the road and make myself visible.
The apprehension was outweighed by my desire to live and I no longer cared if it was Sir turning the corner.
The truck squealed to a stop and as if a second force of energy filled me, I stared at the driver, my mouth parting when our eyes met again.
How could it be him again? Was his the only vehicle whichever navigated these roads?
I was beginning to question my own sanity.
We gaped at one another, my brown eyes widening in shock and I was overwhelmed with consternation.
This man couldn’t help me, could he? He had shot at me last night.
I wanted to ask him for help but I imagine I felt like deer stuck in a fence.
There was nowhere to go. If I ran, I would be in the same place I had been for almost twenty-four hours.
I opened my mouth, exhaling a whoosh of air but when I shifted my eyes, I away from his face, I noticed for the first time that there were guns on a rack on the back of his truck.
Adrenaline and instinct kicked in.
I turn and fled back toward the trees, all reason escaping me.
You’re going to regret running, a small voice squealed at me as I scurried into the thick of trees. You’re going to die out here.
But the guns. He had so many guns. Why?
I continued to run, pausing to glance over my shoulder.
He was running after me!
I gasped, whipping my head around.
I never saw the tree before it hit me square in the face and knocked me unconscious.
My eyes fluttered but my vision was hazy as he loomed over me.
“Nooo…” I mumbled. “Don’t hurt me…”
His metallic green eyes flashed and he folded his arms over his chest, staring down at me, his jaw locking beneath the mass of facial hair.
“You shouldn’t have run,” he growled, stepping toward me. “Why did you run?”
I struggled to sit up but the motion was too much for me to manage and I watched in terror as he drew toward me.
But intermingled with the terror was something else; excitement.
He dropped to his knees and for the first time, I could study his face uninterrupted. It didn’t seem possible that he was even more attractive than I had originally imagined but as he dropped to his knees, I was stunned to see a classic but rugged handsomeness in his face.
Even though whiskers covered his growling mouth, the fullness of his lips seemed to be calling out to me and I was seized with a desire to touch them with my fingertips.
I waited for shame to consume me for the sin in my thoughts but surprisingly it did not happen and slowly, I raised my bruised, exhausted body toward him, my hand reaching out to touch his mouth.
Suspicion colored his irises but he did not move, allowing me to trace the lines of his mouth through the thick of hair on his face.
Never had I touched a man like this.
An unbidden thought threatened to ruin the moment for me but I shoved it away before it could take away from my tentative thrill.
His mouth was soft beneath my fingertips and suddenly, I was on my knees, my eyes searching his face, our noses inches apart.
&nbs
p; What had come over me?
It didn’t matter. I allowed myself to be whisked away in the sensation as my other hand joined his face, my palms openly cupping his dark beard.
I expected him to protest, to pull away but he seemed as captivated by me as I did by him and slowly, our lips met.
I felt as if a bolt of electricity had coursed through me, filling my slim frame from stem to stern, my fingers tightening against his face as I moved him toward me.
When his mouth parted, the tip of his tongue darted out to tease the shape of my lips, prying them apart.
My eyes were still wide, fixated on his and our tongues met to explore.
I gasped at the sensation, my heart racing to match the rasps of his breaths.
Suddenly, his hands embraced my waist and they seemed huge against my tiny hips.
I was brought back against the leaves, his massive frame pinning me to the multi-colored bed, the crunch of the dry beneath me as his body warmed me.
I was melting into him, the lines of his form curving into mine, a tell-tale bulge in his crotch pressing against the surge of warmth in mine.
The experience was so foreign to me but it felt so right.
I needed this man, this stranger I did not know but who was there to save me from myself and I was willing to give him something I had never shared with another.
His lips traveled along the side of my cheek, the bristle tickling me, gooseflesh exploding along my arms and legs as my nipples grew hard.
His hands found the hem of my long skirts, pulling them up to expose my legs.
I spread them wider, pulling him close.
His mouth latched onto my neck, sucking gently and my hands curled into his mane of dark hair, wanting him closer and deeper.
He seemed to sense the urgency in my movements, my back arching upward to meet him as his fingers skillfully stripped away my brown cloak, leaving my shoulders vulnerable to his heated kisses.
My thighs locked around his hips, my hands playing against his back, gripping his solid muscles.
There was no nervousness, no anxiety when his head dropped to my chest, his nose cold against my now hot flesh.
He nuzzled his way against the swell of my breasts, his palms scooping the curve of my rear and we fell into a rocking motion, our most heated parts growing harder and wetter.
