CHISELED: The Mountain Man's Babies

by Frankie Love

  But when I look at my little sis, her eyes are wide as a doe’s; she’s so scared after all she went through--all she did. All I am trying to protect her from now.

  I hate how untrusting she is now. How every little thing makes her shudder with fear.

  But there was a reason she picked up a gun.

  A knock on the door has me on my feet, forcing myself to remain calm even though I feel like a fucking mess.

  “Can I help you?” I ask, stepping outside.

  “I’m Officer Martin and this Officer Holmes. We’re driving around the mountain, asking a few questions.”

  “I know what this is about,” I say. Fuck it all, the babies don’t deserve to be wrapped up in my mess, and whatever price I end up paying, so be it. “I am the one who found the babies.”

  “You did?” Officer Martin asks, frowning. “I wondered as much, from Grace’s description of you, and the fact that this cabin has been sitting empty for a few years.”

  “Yeah, my sister and I just relocated from Wyoming,” I explain as nonchalantly as possible. “And we got this furnished cabin for a good price.”

  “That’s great, son,” Officer Martin says. “But we need to ask you a few questions, seeing as you left Grace’s cottage in such a hurry.”

  “Right,” I say, swallowing hard. “Well, I didn’t want to leave my sister alone much longer. She has a hard time when she is alone, and I didn’t want to worry her.”

  “How old is your sister?” Officer Holmes asks.

  “She’s twenty-one, but she’s had a hard couple of years. That’s why we moved here, thought the fresh air might do her body good.”

  The police officers nod as if considering my words. I don’t blame them. My actions might seem hella sketchy.

  They ask me to explain everything I saw, the exchange between the couple before they drove off, and I do my very best to explain it in no uncertain terms what I saw.

  “And you didn’t speak with them?”

  “No, they were a good distance down the mountain, and it took me a minute before I realized I should intervene. By the time I did, they ditched the babies and took off.”

  “Can you describe them?” Officer Holmes asks.

  I run a hand over my jaw, then say, “I can do one better, sir.” Then I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone. “I got a photo of their car and license plate. I wanted to call the cops, but I don’t have reception out there.”

  The officers take my phone and examine the photo, zooming in. “There’s actually a pretty good ID on the woman,” Holmes says. “Nice work. What was your name again?”

  “Bear. Bear Sutton,” I say honestly. I’ve been hiding to protect myself, but right now, it isn’t me I need to keep safe.

  It’s those babies. And I’ll do my duty to make sure I am as transparent as possible so they’re as safe as can be.

  After the cops leave, I come clean with Virginia. If I’m gonna be an honest man I’d best be an honest brother, too.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” she asks. “You found infant twins abandoned on the road? And dropped them off with some stranger in the woods?”

  “I know, it’s crazy.” I sit down on a rocker, my elbows on my knees, not explaining that the stranger in the woods is the person I want to grow old with. The person I want to stand by and protect.

  Grace.

  The officers said her name and my heart felt more whole.

  Of course, her name is Grace.

  She is the salvation I need. Her presence alone cleanses me of all my sin.

  “I can’t believe you told them your name.” Virginia covers her mouth.

  “Did I have a choice?”

  “No. I just... Bear, I don’t want Ricky to come back for me. I can’t have him find me.” She buries her face in her hands, sobbing. The fear she carries is a real as anything can be.

  “I know, Ginny. I know.” I stand and move next to her on the couch. “No one is gonna find you.”

  “I’m just so scared,” she says. “And I wonder if it’s always gonna be this way.”

  “Maybe I should go back and turn myself in,” I say.

  “No,” she shouts, gripping my hand. “Don’t talk like that. You can’t leave me.”

  “Virginia, you did it in self-defense. No one would blame you.”

  “Was it self-defense, though? Ricky and I had...” She shakes her head. “We’d been together before that night.”

  “You told him no. He didn’t listen. He hurt you, Virginia, forcing you to give him what he wanted. You said no again and again until you...”

  “Until I killed him.”

  “You shouldn’t be the one hiding, Ginny,” I say. “He’s the one who tried to--”

  “I know,” she whispers. “But the blood is on my hands.”

  “We could go to the cops, explain things. Those officers who were just here... they weren’t so scary.”

  “Yeah, except it will raise a lot of questions, Bear,” Virginia says, wiping her eyes. “You did things with the Badlands that could put you in prison too.”

  I exhale, we go around and around and yet we always end up back here. Fear of what might happen if we go to the authorities. Yes, we’re scared of the Badlands finding us, but we are equally scared of the police knowing the truth.

  Virginia and I are not exactly honorable citizens.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “One way or another.”

  She nods, picking her book back up, ready to lose herself in a fantasy. I don’t blame her when our reality feels so fucking bleak.

  “I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell her.

  “Are you going to check on the babies?” she asks.

  “I have to know that they’re okay.” I pull back my shoulders, knowing I’ll keep vigil outside her cottage all night. Then I’ll come around to the cabin and watch over Virginia all day.

  She twists her lips, nodding. “You’re a good man, Bear.”

  I lift my eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?” All I can see are the drugs we sold, the weapons we dealt, the crime rings we cornered. Maybe I wasn’t doing all that shit with my own blood, sweat, and tears, but I stood by knowing what was going down. I stood guard with crossed arms and with a gun in hand, protecting my brothers.

  But where was I when Virginia needed protection?

  I’ll never forgive myself for letting things get so bad for her.

  “You are, Bear. Maybe you don’t believe it right now, but I hope one day you meet a woman who will see you for who you really are.”

  I walk outside the cabin, wishing I could just make the past disappear and make myself into a man who never fucked up.

  But I’m not a saint. I’m a sinner, through and through.

  And right now, all I want is to fall into Grace.

  8

  Grace

  After I spoke with Shelby and the police officers left, I tried to focus on what needed to be done for the little ones.

  Shelby will be around tomorrow and bring paperwork for me to sign. If tonight goes okay, there is no reason that me keeping the babies for a while won’t be a good plan. They need a warm, comforting home, and at least I can give them that.

  Nestled in my arms, I bottle feed them one at a time. They are twins, identical except for the fact one is a boy and one is a girl. Dark hair and dark eyes, but one has a small birthmark on her left hand, and I realize that is the best way to tell them apart. When I get them some clothing, I can dress them differently, which will help me remember who is who.

  They need names, of some sort. I don’t know if that is my place but calling them the babies doesn’t seem right. I don’t have time to think about that right now, though; I must focus on getting through the night.

  As I bathe the sweet babies, one after the other, I think of the things I need to do. Get them to a pediatrician, buy more clothes and formula and maybe borrow a Pack n Play from one of the girls on the mountain.

  My phone rings as I am diapering them, and
I see that it’s Honor. I ignore it. Not just because my hands are full, but because I’m not ready to share this news with any of my friends.

  Maybe that is strange, to want to keep this to myself, but I suddenly feel protective of these babies in a way that is surprising, considering we’ve only just met. But as I swaddle them in cotton blankets and rock them to sleep in my arms, I feel a loyalty to them like I’ve never felt before.

  I listen to the voicemail. “Just wanted to check on you, sweetie. Hawk saw Officer Holmes coming down your road earlier and we wanted to make sure everything was okay. Give me a call. Love you.”

  Laying them down in the Pack n Play, I debate on calling Honor back. But before I can put any more thought into it, the girl begins to wail.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” I shush, patting her back. Then I begin to sing my favorite song, hoping the lullaby will rock them to sleep. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.”

  It works, sort of. For the rest of the night, I rock the babies, one after the other. Changing diapers, making bottles, rocking, burping, and then starting all over again.

  By the time morning comes around, the babies are out cold for the first time all night and I set the boy down in the Pack n Play next to his sleeping sister, silently praying that he doesn’t wake. When he keeps his eyes closed, I go to the kitchen and make a pot of coffee. The aroma is intoxicating and wakes me up from my baby daze.

  The kitchen is an absolute mess. The tincture I was working on yesterday afternoon is strewn across the counter, the brown bottles, and droppers I planned to sieve the peppermint remedy into is still waiting patiently to be filled. The counter is covered with half-empty glasses of water and the bowl of cereal I scarfed down at midnight.

  None of that matters, though. The only thing I can think about is the babies. My heart breaks for them and I’m so grateful they are finding some much-needed rest right now.

  Pouring my coffee, I carry it to the front porch, keeping the door ajar in case they scream. I inhale the dewy scent of the mountain morning. This is the exact reason I chose this place as my home. In the early morning hours, it hums here. Birds chatter and a deer steps over a fallen branch. Sun filters through the high tree branches and the creek behind the house burbles with life.

  I sit in a white rocker and close my eyes, thinking I might be able to catch a few minutes of sleep before one of the babies wakes. But the moment my eyes close, I feel someone watching me.

  Blinking, I look around. Even without seeing him, I know who is here.

  “Hello?” I ask, scanning the tree line beyond my fenced yard. “Grizzly, is that you?”

  He steps into the light, running a hand over his hair, with the raised arm I see a sliver of his skin above the waistband of his jeans. The vision reminds me of the strong V that leads to his groin and how well I fit against it.

  “Did I wake you?” he asks moving closer. He stands at the front gate, his hand resting on the lock, waiting for permission before he comes any closer.

  “It’s early. But I’ve been up all night.”

  “Me too.”

  My head tilts to the side.

  He shrugs. “I stayed out here, watching over your place. Maybe it sounds crazy, but I got nervous that someone might come for the babies. Might... I don’t know. I just wanted to be sure you were safe here, all alone as you are with the little ones.”

  My heart tightens at his words. Maybe it’s wrong to feel this connection to a stranger, a man I know nothing about, but I feel so safe when I am in his presence. And the fact the kept vigil all night for us, makes me feel protected in a way I have never felt from a man before.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” I ask. His eyes light up and I know my answer. “Wait here, they’re both asleep right now. Oh, one’s boy, one’s a girl.”

  “One of each?” His face breaks into a smile.

  “Yeah,” I say, pausing in the doorway. “Perfect, right?”

  He nods. “Yeah. Perfect.”

  A few minutes later, I am back on the porch with a tray holding thermos of coffee, creamer, a second mug, and half a pie. He sits in the rocker next to mine and I set the tray down on a small wicker table between us.

  “Black?” I ask him as I pour the coffee.

  He smiles. “Maybe it isn’t manly to like cream with my coffee, but I can’t help it. It’s how I’ve always taken it.”

  I hand it to him, a fluttering in my heart. Does he feel that too? “Good to know. Maybe you aren’t so gruff as you seem to want to make people think?”

  “I don’t know about that, Grace.”

  My eyebrows raise. When did he learn my name?

  “Officers Holmes and Martin paid me a visit yesterday afternoon. They let it slip.”

  “I see.” I offer him a fork and tell him to dig into the pie. “It’s left over from a few days ago, but it should still be okay.”

  “Homemade blueberry pie should be okay?” He laughs taking a bite. “Do you have any idea how magical you seem?”

  I shake my head, taking a forkful of the pastry straight from the pie plate. “Me, magical? You hardly know--”

  He cuts me off. “I know. I hardly know you at all. Sorry to make all these assumptions. But I saw you for a few weeks, gathering plants in the forest, always looking like you’d stepped straight out of a fairy tale,” he tells me. “In your simple dresses and bare feet, hair loose around your face, flowers tucked behind your ears. And then this home.” He shakes his head, swallowing, and I see that he isn’t just trying to flatter me. Sincerity fills his speech. “It’s beautiful.”

  I bite my bottom lip, my eyes meeting his. “And what about you? You’re pretty much make-believe too, you know that?”

  He shakes his head. “Not me. I’m a--”

  Not it’s my turn to cut him off. “A strong, burly mountain man finding a fair maiden in the woods, having his way with her without so much as telling her his name. Dropping off two babies on her doorstep, then keeping watch over her throughout the night. That’s the stuff of fairy tales right there.”

  He gives me a soft, tender smile. And while my body aches for him to caress me up and down and back again, another part of me longs for him to cradle me in his arms and kiss my lips and carry me to bed.

  “I’m sorry to have left so quickly yesterday,” he tells me. “I got a little spooked. It was a lot to take in and I shouldn’t have run off before the officers came.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “I don’t know what you’re hiding, but it might have complicated things. I was able to keep the babies because I’m a certified foster parent. If you had been here there might have been more roadblocks.”

  “A foster mom? Do you realize how perfect you are?” he asks, cocking his head.

  I scoff. “I’m not perfect. I’m prone to jealousy and I don’t know how to ask for help, and I never even went to high school. I’m--”

  “You’re human,” he says plainly. “Everyone’s a mess, right? We just cover it up in different ways.”

  “Is that why you’re hiding in the woods? You’re trying to conceal your mess?”

  “Something like that,” he says with a slight shake of his head as he lifts the still steaming coffee to his lips.

  “I still don’t know your name,” I tell him.

  He sighs and then looks at me headlong as if he knew this was coming. “When you called me Grizzly, it wasn’t too far off. That’s always been my nickname. But not for Grizzly Adams. My name is Bear.”

  I smile, looking at this big man with broad shoulders and sturdy legs. Yes, his name suits him perfectly.

  9

  Grace

  “Speaking of names,” he deflects. “What are you calling the babies?”

  “I haven’t decided. They need something, though, until we can find their parents.”

  “They aren’t coming back,” he says firmly. “I gave the officers their license plate numbers, so maybe they will find them, but they aren’t in a place to take care of
these two.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I could be wrong.” Bear shrugs. “Stranger things have happened, I suppose. But they abandoned their infants, I can’t imagine a judge giving them custody again.”

  “You know a lot about family court?”

  “Naw.” Bear shakes his head. “I don’t know anything about family, to be honest. Or at least what I do know is fucked up shit…” His face goes red. “Sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean to swear in front of you.”

  I press my hand to his. He looks so nervous suddenly, scared he might have offended me. “It’s fine,” I say. “And to be frank, most of what I know about family is pretty screwed up too.”

  “I don’t believe you. No one could create a home like this,” he says, pointing to my cottage and my well-kept yard, “without knowing about family.”

  “Like I said,” I tell him. “You don’t know me. I grew up in a bad place. It was scary and unsafe, and I manage to escape, to run away and start over.” I lick my lips, wanting him to understand, not just assume any more about me. “When I moved here, I swore I would make a better life for myself, one way or another. I wanted to break the cycle, even if it’s been hard, doing that all on my own.”

  As I speak, I see that I’ve hit on something he well understands. He’s been hurt too.

  “I’m sorry, Grace,” he says, his fingers brushing against mine, sending a ripple of emotion between us. “I hate that you went through hell and back.”

  “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?”

  He nods. “Something like that.”

  “So, the babies,” I say, changing the subject. “What are we going to name them?”

  “We?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise.

  “I figure it’s only right. You saved them after all.”

  “I’ve never thought about naming precious little babies.”

  My heart melts at his description of the infants. I’ve never met a man so sweet on the inside, so tough on the outside.

  He laces his fingers with mine. “You know how I said you were like a fairy tale?”