Forbidden Mountain

by Aimee Bishop

  They were all still in shock, all leaning into me inches from my face ready to hear what I had to say next.

  “Are you saying you’ve been inside his house?”

  “Yeah, of course. It’s nice.”

  They all sucked in a collective breath.

  “I met his dad and his brother too.”

  “Shut up!”

  “No way!”

  “You met Jeremiah Senior, The Bonecrusher!”

  They all must have been mistaken. They made it sound as though they were a family of lunatics.

  “Bonecrusher?”

  “That’s what they call him,” said Esme.

  She leaned in a little closer and glanced over at the door to make sure the older women weren’t in earshot.

  “They’ve lived on the mountain for generations. That land is theirs, and no one is allowed on it. Ever. And they don’t come down here. Our paths only cross when they have to.”

  “Well, how do you know all this stuff about them?” I mused out loud.

  The girl with the blue eyes leaned on the counter and grabbed my arm, her bony fingers hurt and I imagined I’d wake up in the morning with bruises.

  “We all heard the stories growing up,” she said. “We know how dangerous those folks are. They kill everyone on their land. They all live up there in a makeshift village. No one’s allowed in or out. Not if you want to live.”

  I shook myself free and staggered backward.

  “You’re all crazy,” I said, annoyed. “They’re nice. They saved me from freezing to death, and I survived just fine up there. Jeremiah wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  He hadn’t so much as raised a hand to Bernard when he could have – I know he’d wanted to. Jeremiah was the loveliest, most respectful guy I’d ever met. These girls were sorely mistaken if they thought otherwise.

  “Seriously, you don’t know anything about him.”

  “And I suppose you do now,” said Esme.

  I noticed there was something in her eyes, a look of jealousy maybe, or was it fear?

  “I just know what I saw, and I saw a well-kept home and a man who treated me with respect. The things you’re saying about his family… I don’t believe it. You’re making it sound like they’re a bunch of psychos up there.”

  For a moment, none of them said a word or looked me in the eye. When at last, the blue-eyed girl looked up, her hands were pulling on her apron so tightly her knuckles were white.

  “That’s what we’ve heard,” she whispered. “Be careful.”

  “But it’s not- “

  Martha blustered into the room, interrupting us, with her band of jam-making granny gangsters behind her.

  “What is all this?”

  The girls rushed back to their places while Martha eyed me suspiciously.

  “Back to work. Stop your chattering.”

  I returned my attention to the pastry in front of me, doing a terrible job at rolling it out. But I didn’t care about the pie or the bake sale or whether Martha was watching me. My mind was running riot, thinking about everything the girls had said. There was no way any of it was true. It couldn’t be, could it?

  CHAPTER 10 – JEREMIAH

  Night had settled on the mountain. Dad had long since fallen asleep in front of the fire while Nathan had driven home hours ago. Even Harry was fast asleep at Dad’s feet, his long breaths drawing his stomach in and out as his fur shone in the firelight.

  This should have been the perfect moment, I had everything I needed but I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop my mind from running away with itself. Abigail had been on my mind since she left. In this town, she was a breath of fresh air, a free spirit, someone who was cool and laid-back and fun to hang out with, but there was no denying her wild streak.

  Bernard’s old beat up truck was still in front of the house, still wrecked and there was no denying it was her fault. But I couldn’t help but see the funny side of it. There was something so amusing about the idea of Abigail jumping out the window and taking off in old Bernard’s truck. The old dude must have had a fit. Still, she was very lucky it wasn’t a bad crash and that she wasn’t seriously hurt; it might not have been me that found her, it could have been one of my cousins. They weren’t quite as kind as me with trespassers.

  With everyone else asleep and yet another sleepless night ahead of me, I decided to head back out into the night. As I slipped into my coat and wrapped myself up tightly, I wondered why I wanted to go outside.

  Was it to get some fresh air and clear my head? Or was it because somewhere, at the back of my mind, I secretly hoped I’d catch a glimpse of Abigail.

  Once outside, I took a few steps into the trees then stopped. There was no point thinking that I didn’t want to see her again. She was all I’d thought about. She was like a human firecracker that had been aimed right at the center of my life when I least expected it.

  That’s it. I’m going to see her, I thought. I’m going right now, and neither Bernard or my dad or anyone else can stop me.

  I jumped out my truck at least a half mile from Bernard’s farm, not wanting to risk him seeing or hearing me. It was a crisp night and every footstep I made echoed in the frozen air. But inside my coat, I was beginning to sweat, not with the effort of traipsing across the frozen mud, but from something I could only guess was nerves.

  As I approached the back of the house, my palms were sweating and my mouth was dry.

  What’s gotten into you? I asked myself. You’re acting like a lovesick teenager.

  But that’s exactly how I felt, and as I stood beneath her window, I picked up a pebble and hurled it at the glass. A second later, the light came on. I threw another one and soon after, her silhouette appeared. Pushing open the window, she leaned out. At last, I could see the white moonlight bounce off her perfect skin. She had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and her hair was loose around her face. She was ethereally beautiful.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

  I decided to just come out with it.

  “You wanna come for a drive?”

  “What? Are you crazy?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I replied. “But I can be fun too.”

  She glanced over at Martha and Bernard’s window, where the light was still off. She ripped her shawl off.

  “Meet me at the kitchen door,” she said. “But be quiet.”

  CHAPTER 11 – ABIGAIL

  “I should not be doing this!” I laughed as we ran through the field. “I’m going to get in so much trouble when Martha finds out.”

  “If… Martha finds out,” corrected Jeremiah as he took my hand and led me through the darkness.

  We reached his truck where the fields met the forest, and jumped in. His truck smelled just as masculine as he did with the scent of oil and smoke embedded in the leather upholstery. It couldn’t have been further from Bernard’s old heap of rust. This thing was modern and luxurious, with a stereo that glowed neon blue and heated seats that massaged my back.

  “You like it?” he asked, noticing the look on my face.

  “Uh, yeah!”

  He twiddled the knobs on the stereo, and I waited for the sound of country music to begin blasting out the speakers. I was surprised then when the upbeat lilt of R&B came on.

  “You thought I was a Ted Nugent fan or something, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe,” I confessed with a laugh.

  “Hey, we’re not all hicks out here.”

  “I would never suggest such a thing.”

  He gave me a mischievous sideways glance as he changed gear. We drove through the deep forest, the leaves kissing the windows as the road narrowed.

  “You still never told me where we’re going?” I asked.

  “You’ll find out soon.”

  There was a tinge of danger in his voice, the promise of something forbidden. It made me think back to what the girls said today. They told me Jeremiah and his family were dangerous. They told me people went up that mountain and never came back d
own.

  Is that what was going to happen to me?

  Was I never going to be seen again?

  I thought about what the girls said. Then I thought about how he’d looked after me so well last night. If he wanted to do anything to me, he most likely would have done it already, and he would have had an excuse. I was, after all, trespassing on his property.

  No, I thought. He’s not dangerous.

  Or is he?

  “What’s up?” he asked, sensing my tension.

  It was then that I realized my body language was defensive, my arms folded up and my legs crossed into barriers. Pressed up against the door, I couldn’t be further away from him if I tried. Meanwhile, the truck plowed on and on through the dense forest until branches hit the sides, making scraping noises along the roof as we bumped up and down on the rough terrain.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  He wasn’t convinced. Slowing down, he took his attention off the road for a minute and turned down the radio.

  “What’s the matter?”

  In the darkness, the blue light of the stereo glinting off his face, his features shone with perfection.

  “Nothing, it’s just that…”

  “That what?”

  I had to tell him. I had to know if the rumors were true.

  “I’ve heard things,” I said. “Terrible things.”

  Without a word, he sighed and sped up, driving headlong down the winding road.

  “Woah, what are you doing?”

  He still wasn’t saying anything.

  Then, when I thought he had lost his mind, the trees gave way to a clearing, and something sparkled far out in front of us. It was water, a beautiful, vast expanse of glittering water that twinkled beneath the moonlight.

  He slowed to a halt and sat back in his seat. Turning to me, he reached for my hand.

  “I guess it was only a matter of time,” he said. “People say a lot of things.”

  “But are they true?”

  He scratched his beard and thought for a second before staring off into the distance. This was not the response I wanted.

  “Jeremiah, tell me! Are they true?”

  His eyes moved over to the water. It was gorgeous here, a true hidden paradise and part of me thought I’d completely ruined the moment. Still, I had to know.

  “Don’t listen to what those stupid women tell you,” he finally said.

  I nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it.”

  He reached out a hand and curled his fingers around my jaw. Despite his strength, his touch was gentle. I wondered what his hand would feel like on other parts of my body. Would they be just as tender gripping the curve of my waist, my hips, my wrists…

  “Don’t listen to them.”

  “I won’t,” I whispered.

  He pulled away. I found myself wishing he hadn’t.

  “This is Lake Dyer,” he said. “Named after my great-great-grandfather.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.”

  “Your family must own a lot of this land.”

  “We own all of it,” came his clipped reply. “Well, all of it apart from Bambridge. A long time ago that was handed over to another family, the Bennets.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “The Bennets?”

  There was that knowing look in his eye again. He knew what that meant.

  “That’s my name.”

  “Of course it is.”

  I thought for a second, staring out at the water. That meant that long before living memory the town belonged to Jeremiah’s family, and then it belonged to mine.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, pondering what that meant. I watched the moonlight glint off the lake like diamonds falling on ice. The water was so still it looked like a painting, the stars so bright they didn’t seem real.

  “Why was the town handed over?” I eventually asked.

  “Well, that depends on who you ask. The Bennets, meaning Bernard and his folk, will have you believe it’s because they fought us for it and won. Ask my dad, and he’ll tell you it’s because that patch of land was good for nothing. It wouldn’t grow so much as a weed and old legends spoke of ancient curses. My family will tell you they practically demanded the Bennets take it.”

  “And what do you believe?”

  He shrugged and laughed.

  “I don’t give a shit,” he said. “It’s all nonsense to me.”

  “So it’s not like we’re supposed to have some rivalry, you and me?”

  He laughed again.

  “What, you getting some Romeo and Juliet vibes?”

  “Is that what we are? Star-crossed lovers?”

  He licked his lips.

  “You tell me.”

  His eyes were dazzling as they bored into mine.

  I didn’t need to look into them a second longer to know what he was thinking. I inched closer to him, then closer again. He held his hand to my cheek; it was warm and soft. I leaned into it, wanting to feel more of him.

  Kiss me, I thought. For the love of God kiss me.

  I closed my eyes and waited. There was the creak of his leather jacket as he leaned toward me. The smell of his hair and skin filled my senses. I held my breath. Gradually, I began to feel the heat of his breath on my lips; they tingled as though he was touching me already.

  Everything around us disappeared. I could no longer hear the crickets in the bushes or hear the owls hooting in the trees. There was nothing but the touch of his hand and the promise of his kiss.

  His mouth touched mine, soft as silk and light as a feather. I waited for him to push himself against me, to get rough and thrust his tongue into my mouth, but he didn’t. He kissed me gently, barely grazing my lips.

  “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

  I blushed, grateful that the darkness was shrouding my embarrassment.

  “You do know that, don’t you?”

  I said nothing.

  “It’s always the pretty girls who are the most insecure,” he said.

  “Hey, I’m not insecure.”

  “Well, you don’t act like you know what you look like.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  He shook his head and brushed his fingers through my hair. My body was responding to him. I wanted him to jump on me and take me right then and there, but he was too sweet to do such a thing. Instead, he tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed my forehead.

  “It means that you deserve to walk the Earth like you own the place,” he said.

  I held onto his hand and pressed my cheek into it.

  “So, are you still afraid of me?” he asked.

  “I never was,” I said. “Everyone else was. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m beginning to realize that.”

  He stroked a finger down my cheek before resting it on my top lip. I kissed it and held it between my lips, tasting his skin.

  “Why does it have to be so complicated?” I whispered. “Why do people fear you?”

  He pulled his hand away and rested it on the steering wheel.

  “Maybe I’ll tell you someday,” he said. “But now, I better get you home. Don’t want you in any more trouble.”

  I couldn’t help but be disappointed. I wanted to stay here forever and kiss beneath the stars before making love until the sun rose. But he was starting the engine, and we were winding our way back down that narrow road.

  “When can I see you again?” I asked, then immediately regretted it.

  I sounded so childish and desperate, but I couldn’t hide my feelings. There was no way I could stand not seeing him again. His kiss was the most excruciating tease, and I needed more.

  “Soon,” he said. “Real soon.”

  Butterflies were dancing in my stomach.

  How long was soon?

  CHAPTER 12 – JEREMIAH

  When I pulled up outside the house, my good mood was immedia
tely ruined by the sight of my dad leaning against the front door with a disapproving look on his face. I climbed down from the truck, my heart still racing from that one kiss. I spun my keys around my finger and sauntered over to the house.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Just out for a drive.”

  “Just out for a drive, eh?”

  He stood in my way, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. I could swear he was sniffing the air to figure out where I’d been. It was like being a teenager again. He’d always had the uncanny ability to know when I’d been up to something. Some people would have thought he was a psychic, but the truth was that he was just old enough to have done every trick in the book himself.

  “You smell like a woman,” he said.

  “And you smell like booze. Now, are you gonna let me in?”

  He begrudgingly stepped to the side. Harry was still in front of the fire and raised his head to look at me.

  “It’s Caitlyn’s girl, isn’t it?”

  I remained quiet and crouched down behind Harry to give him a good scratch behind his ear.

  “Hey, answer me, boy. It’s that new girl, isn’t it? Abigail?”

  I stood up and rocked back on my heels, pushing out my hands to warm them on the fire.

  “And what if it is?”

  “Well, she’s too young for one thing.”

  “Urgh, nonsense,” I waved a hand dismissively. “She’s fifteen years younger than me. The same as between you and mom. Or are you so old your memory’s playing up?”

  He chewed on the inside of his mouth. It was a peculiar habit he had when he’d run out of good things to say.

  “Son, you know why you shouldn’t be seeing her.”

  “Don’t… Don’t say it.”

  “You know I’m right.”

  “Dad, seriously, I don’t care about all this anymore. This old rivalry between the villagers and us. Can’t it come to an end already?”

  Dad’s face grew red. He sucked in air through his teeth and tensed up his spine.

  “You know that can’t happen,” he said. “After all this family has worked for all these years. Generations and generations of hard work. We’re not throwing that away because you just met a girl.”