Mountain Man's Unknown Baby Son

by Lee, Lia

  Dallas brushes my hand away, her eyes flashing pale blue fire. “I can’t know that, Levi. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Then why not take a ride up there with me, right now? See for yourself? I’ll bring you straight back to your folks’ place.”

  “I have my own car,” she says crossly, reaching into the stroller and placing a hand on Mason’s tiny forehead. “And we have a doctor’s appointment in town in fifteen minutes. His fever seems to be rising again. I’m sorry, Levi. I have to go.”

  “I’ll go with you.” I don’t want to let either of them out of my sight. The need to be with them is growing in me like a storm, and my newly acquired internal radar is telling me I need to stick close, but also not to stay in one place too long.

  “Stop,” Dallas says. “Stop pushing. You can’t force yourself to fit into my life, or me into yours just like that. We’re different people now, and we have Mason to consider. It’s not just about you and what you want.” She rises from the bench and takes hold of the stroller handle. “Don’t forget you’re potentially a wanted criminal. I wouldn’t show your face around town too much, even if you are disguised as a grizzly bear.”

  She’s right. I’m letting my emotions rule my head, and I need to keep both in check right now. I’ve almost forgotten what I’ve brought with me, and quickly slip the rucksack from my shoulders. “Fine. I’ll go. But hang on a minute. I got these for us.” I pull out the new set of long-range radio transceivers I ordered from Forks Outfitters under one of my relative’s accounts, and give her one of the handsets. “These have a thirty-mile range, and long-life, rechargeable batteries. Call me and let me know how you’re both doing, okay? And when you’ve had a chance to think about what I’ve said.”

  She glances back and forth between me and the device, seeming reluctant to take it.

  “Please, Dally. I don’t want to lose you again. We’re a family now.”

  Chapter Six

  Dallas

  My mind is spinning. I can’t think straight, or come to any reasonable conclusion right now. All I know is that I have to get Mason to his doctor’s appointment, and the fastest way to my car is back through the farmer’s market. The crowds are starting to thin, and I’m able to make quick progress past the numerous booths and to the exit on the opposite end from the park where I’d sat with Levi and listened to his incredible story.

  I understand his reasons for disappearing, but the circumstances were devastating. The man I once loved is now a murderer. It may have been self-defense, but who could prove that? It’s his word against no one’s…there were no witnesses. Surely none that had come forward or been tracked down. Incredible that Levi made it nearly one hundred miles away without anyone noticing, no cops on his trail or reports of his splashy new Chevy spotted leaving the area.

  Part of me is grateful that he’s alright and that Mason still has a father; another part wishes things had stayed the way they were. I have a feeling I’d have been better off not knowing, unaware of his whereabouts or what happened to him. They say knowledge is power, but what they don’t say is what a burden knowledge can also be. If I’m ever questioned about him or about the incident again, I would have to lie. I hope I’m never in that situation.

  Sadly, the only way to avoid that situation is to distance myself from him, never lay eyes on him again, and I don’t know if I can do that. His pleas for us to join him, be together as a family, tear at my heart. I do still love him, damn my soul. I may not be living in the lap of luxury at my mom and dad’s, but it’s comfortable and safe. I don’t know what I would have done without my parents’ support after losing my job and struggling through a difficult pregnancy.

  I can’t imagine being better off living in the mountains, even if it’s with the father of my child. I have to think about Mason’s welfare, not just my own. Whatever happiness I might find being with Levi is overshadowed by the very real needs of my offspring. I won’t have him brought up in isolation, living like a fugitive recluse with no knowledge of the outside world.

  As I walk into the doctor’s office, I realize I’m probably being silly. Overreacting. Plenty of people choose to live in rural areas; it doesn’t mean they have to lose touch with reality. And who says we have to stay here in the Pacific Northwest? With Levi’s significant financial worth, we could go anywhere, Europe, Australia, the Far East. Where there are prestigious universities and endless business opportunities. He could give me access to his personal banking information without ever showing his face in public. I need to calm down. I think my nerves are still jittery after experiencing a bank robbery. Sometimes I feel I may never fully recover.

  “Ms. Wynter?” the receptionist calls. “C’mon in.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, wheeling Mason through the doors to the examining rooms. He’s been sleeping ever since we left the market but is awake now and needing a diaper change. Doctor Halpert doesn’t seem to mind. Mason gets weighed, his temperature taken, and his ears peered into.

  “How’s his mood been? Have you been administering the antibiotics I prescribed?”

  “Yes, and he’s perked up considerably. In fact, he’s due for another dose right now. He seemed feverish again.”

  “His temperature’s not overly high, but it’s important to finish the entire medication when it comes to antibiotics. Even if patients show improvement, which they usually do right away, it’s most effective if the entire regimen is followed.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “And how are you doing? You had a bout of the flu last time I saw you.”

  “It’s better now. Almost gone, I think.”

  “That’s good. You’ll need your strength,” he says, putting away his instruments and indicating I can dress Mason and get him ready to take home.

  I reach for the diaper bag so I can give him a fresh change. “I know. Keeping up with a little one can sure take it out of you.”

  “At the best of times. I think young Mason here has a slight ear infection as well. It’s quite common and nothing to overly worry about, but it can lead to other things, such as viral meningitis. His color looks good, but watch out for any yellowing of the skin. He’s been in generally good spirits? Eating well? Does he seem to sleep more than usual?”

  Meningitis doesn’t sound good, despite the doctor’s lighthearted tone. Doesn’t that mean swelling of the brain or something? Oh, God. That’s all I need now, after all Mason’s other health troubles. None seemed serious up to now, but what if things get worse?

  “Well, he sure liked some of Miller’s apple puree at the farmer’s market,” I answer.

  The doctor laughs. “I’m sure. Be careful of too much fruit, though. It can cause constipation. Try to give him as much liquids as you can. And keep him indoors for awhile. If he exhibits any of those symptoms, let me know. Irritability, stiffness in the neck or arms. Antibiotics aren’t any good against viruses. Give him infant Tylenol for pain if needed, and come back and see me in a few weeks.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Doctor Halpert.”

  “Take care, have a good day.” The graying doctor leaves the room, allowing me to tidy up. Although I respect his many years of experience, I wonder how much longer Halpert will keep practicing. There are a lot of young doctors looking for postings, and small towns offer a ready starting ground for new practitioners to build their careers on as the old guard retires or can’t keep up with population growth. I can’t help thinking I need a second opinion of someone brighter and more eager to succeed in the medical field. I want the benefit of everything modern science can provide for my son. I give a long sigh. One more reason I miss the city.

  Mason makes a grunting sound, and I see his face twist into a grimace and turn red. Mild panic rises in me at the doctor’s warnings, but as the sudden foul smell fills the air, I realize the source of his discomfort and am grateful I waited the extra minutes before changing him. Now I just need the one diaper instead of two. Thank goodness. I might have had to drive all the way h
ome with that delightful aroma filling the car.

  I get the baby all clean and re-dressed then give him his medication. Not wanting to leave the dirty diaper behind to assault the rest of the doc’s office, I shove the rolled-up, soiled bundle in a side pocket of the diaper bag so I can dispose of it later. In another pocket I see the bulging outline of Levi’s radio handset, where I’d stuffed it in haste. It was nice of him to give us a way to stay in touch, but the likelihood of giving in to his request seems even more remote after our doctor’s visit than before. With a sigh I sling the bag over my shoulder.

  I make our way down the elevator and to the main floor of one of the only multi-story buildings in Forks. It has other offices besides Doctor Halpert’s within its brick and steel structure, and I’m lucky to have found a parking stall in the paved lot around the side of the building fairly close to the entrance.

  I maneuver Mason’s stroller to the car and open the door. I unbuckle him and lift his little body out of the carrier to transfer him into the waiting baby car seat that my parents bought. A pang of guilt surges through me. I owe them so much; I hadn’t stopped to think how they might feel if I suddenly announced I was going to take Mason and go live with his father who mysteriously turned up after being thought dead. No. I couldn’t do that to them.

  “Going somewhere, pretty mama?”

  The words and the gruff, nasal voice that utters them freezes me cold. It’s coming from right behind me, just inches away. Bullet-guy. He’s followed me here. Dear God, why? I clutch Mason to my chest with all my strength.

  “Well, you will be soon enough. You’re gonna take a little ride with me, you and junior,” he says. I turn my head slowly, just enough to get a glimpse of the man. Sure enough, it’s him; greasy hair, soiled vest, furry tail and all. “I can tell he’s precious cargo, so you just behave and take care of him so he doesn’t get hurt. You’re gonna get into that gray van right there,” he continues, pointing to an older-model Dodge Caravan, its sliding side door open and beckoning like the maw of a monster. “Get moving.”

  He doesn’t have a weapon that I can see, but his free hand inside the bulging bulk of his vest tells me he’s not without something to convince me to comply. The van is just a few stalls over, even nearer to the building’s entrance than my own car. I force my feet to move, Mason’s diaper bag still slung over my shoulder and bouncing against my hip. With my baby in my arms, I’m able to hide the movement of my hand as it reaches into one of the pockets.

  I hesitate before the open door.

  “Get in,” he says, reaching inside to toss some junk, rope, tools, and packaging I recognize from the Outfitters on the floor of the van out of the way. It’s then that I hurl the smelly, dirty ball of poopy diaper directly at his head.

  “Fuck!” he yells.

  I spin on my heels and sprint for the building entrance. The automatic doors whisk open, and I leap inside, my heart thudding and my lungs burning. The receptionist and security guard look up in alarm.

  “Call the police,” I gasp breathlessly. “A man just tried to kidnap us.”

  Chapter Seven

  Levi

  I’m halfway up Tyee Ridge Road when the radio goes off. “Levi, are you there, can you hear me?” I pull over and grab for the handset, surprised to hear Dallas’s voice. She seemed reluctant to take the unit from me at all. My mind goes to places it shouldn’t as to why she’d call so soon.

  “Dally, I’m here. Is everything okay, or you just checking out the merchandise?”

  “Shut up…” comes her reply, her voice choked with sobs. “Where are you?”

  I feel my heart constrict and my chest tighten as I put the truck into park. “I’m on the road. Not quite home yet. What’s wrong.” It’s not even a question. I know with the certainty of a sunrise that something is indeed wrong. Terribly wrong.

  “I don’t know who else to call. I can’t go home, I’m pretty sure I’ll be followed.”

  “By whom? Where are you now? Are you and Mason alright?” Blood thunders in my ears as I strain to listen to her every word, every breath and whisper.

  “We’re fine, but that man, the guy from the farmer’s market, he was waiting for us outside the doctor’s office. He tried to force me and Mason into his van. We got away, ran back into the building. We’re at the police station now, I told them what happened. They say I shouldn’t go home, find somewhere else to stay for the night.”

  The police station? Fuck. Not my first choice of places to rendezvous. “Is anyone listening to you right now? Heard you say my name?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’m in the bathroom. Mom is in the waiting room with Mason. I called my folks right away, let them know what’s going on. Had her bring me extra clothes and diapers if I’m going to stay elsewhere, but I’d rather it not be the Dew Drop Inn. Someplace farther away. Can you help me?”

  Shit. Yes, of course I can, and I will. But it’s complicated. I can’t just show up at the police station. A deep foreboding tingles at the base of my spine and creeps its way up like a rising tide. I got a real bad vibe from that market guy, but couldn’t put my finger on why, other than he had his filthy, bloodshot eyes on my woman and child, stalking them like prey. Again, the propensity for evil in this world never fails to astound me, and there’s no fucking way I’ll let it harm my family again.

  My mind is racing to formulate a plan, how to extricate her from this situation and keep everybody else none the wiser about me. “Yeah, listen. I’m going to drive into Beaver and pay for a room at the Hungry Bear Motel, it’s at milepost 206 on the 101. Tell the police you’ve made those arrangements, and ask them to escort you and your vehicle there and see that you check in. I’ll meet you there.”

  “I understand.”

  “Okay, I’m heading there now.” My mind walks through the potential repercussions of the plan. “Uh, Dally. Does your mom know you’re calling me? Have you said anything?”

  “Not yet. I just said I was going to make a call.”

  “The fewer people that know about me the better,” I say, a tone of caution in my voice.

  A moment of silence passes before the radio crackles to life again. “I get it. The burden of knowledge.” I hear her sigh heavily. “I won’t say anything. I’ll just say I’ve booked a motel outside of town, and that it’s better she doesn’t know my whereabouts for awhile.”

  “That’s good. That’s perfect. Hold tight, baby. Radio me when you get inside the room. I’ll see you soon.” I toss the handset aside and pull a U-turn, heading back toward Beaver. I may be overstepping my boundaries in calling her “baby,” but it just slipped out. It felt natural. The burden of knowledge, she said. She’s so right. What you heard, what you saw, you can’t erase it, you can’t “un-know” it. It’s more than a burden. It’s a curse.

  While I’m angry and more than a little worried at the reasons behind this apparent attempted kidnapping, the thought of having Dallas and Mason near me fills me with hope and a side helping of something that feels like happiness. It’s been a long while since I could claim that.

  ***

  It’s full dark when I pull slowly onto the Hungry Bear property. It’s a rustic, roadside motel with a popular café, and also an RV park that backs onto the Sol Duc River. It will be easy to blend in and has the advantage of various people moving about that would discourage any would-be troublemakers. I park among the other vehicles in between the motel and the RV area to remain relatively unseen yet still keep an eye out for approaching traffic. Driving a black truck certainly helps in that regard, especially at night. I kill the lights and keep to the shadows as I walk to the office.

  A plump lady manager is manning the desk. “Evenin,’ welcome to the Hungry Bear,” she says with a smile and a curt nod. “Lookin’ for a room?”

  “Uh-huh. Any vacancy?”

  “Sure do, now that the summer crowd has gone. A single? Or a double?”

  “Uh, double I guess. Can I pay in advance? Be checking out early.”


  “Money’s money,” she says with a shrug. “Better early than late. Let’s see, I think room fifteen is available. You have children with you?”

  “Uh, yeah. Why?”

  She raises an eyebrow and lets out a little chortle. “They need beds too. The unit has two double beds and a hide-a-bed, but we have portable cots if you need extra. Or a crib?”

  I hadn’t thought this far along in the booking process. I’ve always stayed alone in high-end suites where my father’s PA took care of the accommodations. This could be slightly more complicated. “A crib,” I say, thinking fast. This has to look normal. “How much?”

  “Low season rates. Ninety-five dollars plus tax.”

  I fork over a hundred bucks in cash, and she lays a key on the counter. I stare at it while the wheels in my brain turn. “Listen, I have to run a couple errands, so my wife and kid will be checking in on her own in a bit. Can you just give her the key when she gets here?”

  “Sure. What’s the name?”

  “Wynter. Mrs. Wynter.”

  “Alright, Mr. Wynter. Enjoy your stay.”

  “Thanks.” I exit the office casually so as not to appear in a hurry. Mr. Wynter. Ha. That’s a new one; I kinda like it. That’s a thing sometimes, isn’t it? Having the husband take the wife’s name? Not a bad idea. But I can’t think of a single reason Dallas would want to marry me now, other than the baby. Beyond providing the father figure, I’m nothing for her but trouble with a capital T. I can’t help but think this would-be abduction has something to do with me.

  I climb into my truck to wait. Soon, I see Dallas’s car along with a police cruiser pull up in front of the office. After a few minutes, her shadowed silhouette with Mason in her arms enters room 15, and the police depart. “Levi, you here?” comes her voice over the radio.

  “Yeah, I’m parked outside, out of sight. Everything go okay?”

  “More or less. My mom wanted to come with me, but I talked her out of it.”