MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN

by Christine Rimmer

  Jared turned then and saw her watching him. "You don't have to look so stunned, Miss Parker. I've been helping out at this bar for longer than I care to remember."

  "Well, of course. I can see that now. I just didn't realize, I mean, I thought—" She was babbling.

  He knew it, so he saved her by interrupting. "So do I pass muster as your substitute bartender?"

  She nodded. "I think you'll work out fine."

  "Good. Then how about if you play cocktail waitress, and I'll handle the bar?"

  Eden had no argument with his plan. It was the way she and Oggie always did it, unless things piled up, in which case Eden helped with the fancier drinks. "Fair enough."

  * * *

  The night was a busy one and it seemed to fly by. Jared wasn't like Oggie, who kept everybody laughing and who would sometimes talk more than the most loquacious of his customers. Jared was cool and businesslike and never missed an order. Working with him, Eden found that she herself became more outgoing.

  With Oggie, Eden was the one who kept things running smoothly, while the old man supplied the personality. But with Jared, if there was going to be any personality supplied, Eden had to deliver it. Jared worked, and he worked hard, but he was simply not the kind of man who kept people in stitches with the latest traveling salesman joke.

  So Eden spent more time with the customers. And, all in all, it worked out just fine.

  She also stayed right through until closing time, partly because it was Saturday night and so busy. And also because of the understanding Jared had said they must reach together once they'd closed the doors.

  At two-fifteen, Eden escorted the last customer, Rocky Collins, to the door. There, Eden stood for a moment and watched as Rocky tottered down the street. She was relieved when he made it safely to the North Magdalene Grocery Store, above which he rented a small apartment. He grasped the railing to the stairs that ran up the side of the building and pulled himself toward the floor above. When he reached the top, he swayed in front of his own door for a few moments. At last, he succeeded in getting out his key and fitting it into the lock. He disappeared through the door.

  "Kind of sad, isn't it?" the low voice said from behind her.

  Eden didn't turn to look at him. She was afraid that if she did, he would walk away. She asked, carefully offhand, "Sad? Rocky, you mean?"

  "Yeah. He wasn't always like that."

  Eden looked up at the tall pine trees on the surrounding hills. It was cooling off now. She breathed deeply of the fresh air, which still seemed warm, and sweet too, after the air-conditioned smokiness in the bar. "What made him change?"

  "Hell. What makes anybody change? Life. One too many busted dreams."

  Eden folded her arms over her breasts and leaned against the shingled outside wall. She wanted to ask, Were you ever different, Jared? And if so, what made you change? But she didn't. She had heard from everyone in Jared's family that he had always been a hot-tempered, unapproachable kind of guy. And more than that, such a personal question would probably put a quick end to this lovely moment of peace and near-companionship they seemed to be sharing.

  He said, "You're very quiet, Miss Parker."

  "Enjoy it while it lasts."

  He chuckled then, a kind of rusty-sounding chuckle. She thought that chuckling was something he probably didn't do often. And then he leaned against the building, too, and looked up at the shadowed trees. They were quiet together. Eden thought it was a friendly silence and didn't mind it at all.

  Eventually he spoke. "Sometimes, when the people around here are driving me up the wall, I forget what a nice little town this is."

  She closed her eyes for a moment. "North Magdalene's much more than nice. It's the home I've always dreamed of."

  "It is, huh?"

  "Oh, yes. I knew it the first day Laurie brought me here." Eden smiled to herself, remembering. "It was late spring and everything was still green. There were poppies along the road and the locust trees were in bloom. And people were friendly. It was like I was never a stranger."

  Jared made a low noise in his throat. "There's a flip side to how friendly folks are, you know. They can also be nosy and interfering as hell. That's why I like this town best in the middle of the night, when the streets are empty and there's not a soul in sight."

  "Oh, come on, Jared."

  "Oh, come on, what?"

  "Well, I mean. Saying you like this town best in the middle of the night is like when a mother says she likes her kids best when they're asleep. Everyone knows mothers are only joking when they say things like that."

  "Wrong. Everyone wants to believe a mother is only joking when she says things like that."

  "You are such a cynic. And besides, loving North Magdalene in the middle of the night is so limiting. There are only four streetlights, so you can hardly even see it in the middle of the night."

  "I don't need to see it. I've got it memorized."

  "Is that why you don't miss it when you're gone, because you've got it memorized?"

  "Who says I don't miss it?" There was an edge to his voice. Then he said, "Come on. We're wasting time. Let's get things cleaned up. Then we can talk."

  Eden sighed. She would have remarked, "I thought we were talking," but he didn't give her the chance. He had already ducked back in through the double doors.

  * * *

  Jared cleaned up as efficiently as he tended bar. They were ready to head out the back door in twenty minutes flat.

  Then he asked, "You want a drink or something?"

  She found she dreaded what was coming, so she tried to keep things light. "Will I need one?"

  But that one rusty chuckle he'd given her earlier had apparently been about all the humor he could deal with in one night. He answered without even a trace of a smile, "That's up to you."

  "Well, no then. I'll … take it straight."

  "Suit yourself."

  He took down two of the chairs they'd already put up and sat backward in one. She took the other, though she didn't really feel like sitting. He looked at her for a moment.

  Then he began, "Er, Miss Parker…"

  It was too much. She felt edgy and awful again, like she had last night—or was it night before last, by now?—when she'd realized he was actually leaving town.

  She snapped, "Look. Could you just call me Eden? Please?" She couldn't sit still for another second, so she stood up and looked down at him. "I mean it's too strange, your calling me Miss Parker. Face it. We're going to be tending this bar together for the next several weeks." She threw out both her arms. "You can at least call me by my given name." She realized how widely she had gestured and dropped her arms. Then, feeling totally foolish, she sat back down again. "Okay?" she asked meekly.

  "Fine," he said, his good eye looking wary. "Eden."

  "Thanks a lot."

  "You're welcome. Where was I?"

  "Not very far," she said tartly. "I think you got to 'Er, Miss Parker' and that was about it."

  "Hell." He raked through his hair with his fingers and then rubbed the back of his neck.

  Eden decided that waiting around for him to figure out what to say was worse than having him actually say it. "Oh, for heaven's sake. I can't stand this. Let's just … get it over with."

  "I'm trying." He really did look miserable. He was gazing off toward the pool table.

  "Oh, why is this happening to me?" Eden muttered. "Shall I help you? Is that what you want?"

  Now he actually turned those bullet gray eyes on her. His expression was nervous, but hopeful. "Well, I—"

  Eden wished she hadn't volunteered. But it was too late now. "It is what you want, right?"

  "Hell."

  "All right. Fine." She stood up again. This was not a task she wanted to tackle sitting down.

  She began, "Let's see. You want me to be aware that you are not in the market for any kind of relationship with a woman. You are through with women, forever. And, even though you kissed me recently and both of
us liked it a lot, we have to learn to put that behind us and just be … what? Friendly colleagues? Is that right? I mean, to work together and be nice to each other but only in a very professional way?"

  Slowly he nodded.

  "Okay. So we're going to be buddies on the job and nothing else, until Oggie gets over shooting himself in the foot and you can do what you really want to do and leave town again." She took a breath. "Is that it?"

  He looked up at her from his chair. "Right on the money, Miss—er, Eden."

  "Okay." For some completely incomprehensible reason, she wanted to cry. But she was not going to cry. "Fine with me," she said brightly. "I mean, it's pretty obvious you and I are hardly a match made in heaven, right?"

  "Exactly."

  "Shake on it?" Eden stuck out her hand. He stared at it for a moment, then his own engulfed it. She resolutely ignored the heat that shot up her arm. After a couple of teeth-rattling pumps, he let go.

  "See you tomorrow night, then. Seven sharp," she said.

  "You bet."

  Eden turned and got out of there.

  * * *

  At home, she went right to bed. Her dreams were sad dreams, in which she wandered, feeling lost and alone.

  She woke at seven when her alarm went off and wished she could simply throw the darn thing across the room and go back to sleep. But she wanted to see Oggie before she went to the tavern, to make sure he was okay and find out if there was anything she could do for him.

  So she dragged herself from her bed and stood for several minutes under the cold spray of the shower. After a good breakfast and some heavy-duty primping to disguise the circles under her eyes, she began to feel as if she just might make it through the day and night to come after all.

  At a little before nine, Eden pulled into a parking space in the Prospector's Hospital lot. Inside, the front desk clerk gave her directions to Oggie's room.

  When she peeked around the door at the old darling, he was sitting up in the adjustable bed. His right foot was propped in front of him, wrapped in what looked like a small mountain of gauze bandaging. His seamed face lit up at the sight of her.

  "Well, what's that there? A ray of sunshine on a damn gloomy day! Get on in her', gal." He waved her into the room.

  Eden smiled widely and scooted around the doorframe. She held up the flower arrangement she'd brought with her.

  "Not bad," he said. "'Course, I woulda preferred a case of whiskey."

  "I'll bet. Where should I put it?"

  "Aw, hell. How 'bout over there?"

  Eden set the flowers on the windowsill and then took the chair by his bed. She looked at him for a moment before she said anything. Then she squeezed his bony shoulder. "Oh, Oggie. Are you all right?"

  He snorted. "Hell, no. I'm wounded for life. And in the worst possible place, too—my pride."

  "Jared said you were cleaning your hunting rifle and—"

  "Yep. It went off. Blam. Right through the foot."

  Eden thought about this as he described it and something odd occurred to her. "But, Oggie, I thought people cleaned guns with the barrel up. I mean, when you hear about gun-cleaning accidents, you always hear about injuries to the upper part of the body."

  Oggie looked chagrined. "Well, see, like I've explained to Sheriff Pangborn and just about every other damn person who's come in this room, I thought I'd taken out all the shells. I had the rifle pointed down at the floor and I was… Aw, hell. It don't matter how I explain, I still come out a damn fool. At least if I had shot myself in the head, I might not have to live through the razzing I'm gonna take when I get back on my feet."

  "No one's going to razz you, Oggie." She patted his hand. "I won't let them."

  Oggie chortled. "I feel better already, knowin' you'll stand up for me—since I myself ain't gonna be standin' up at all for quite a while."

  "How long will it be until you're really over this?"

  "Too long, like I said. The doctor says I'm lucky the bullet only snapped one little bone and went on through, but still it's gonna take weeks and weeks to heal."

  Eden thought of that, of weeks and weeks of laboring side by side with Jared. Some foolish part of her was disgustingly gleeful at the prospect, while her wiser self knew the best she was going to get out of this deal would be a tension-filled work environment.

  "Eden? Something on your mind, gal?"

  "No, no. I was just wishing you were over this, that's all."

  Oggie's grizzled brows drew together. "Did my boy, Jared, leave you alone to handle things all on your own last night? Is that it? If he did, I'll—"

  "No, no, Oggie. He showed up right on time and he … he was great. You know, actually, he's an excellent bartender."

  "Damn straights. Who d'ya think taught him everything he knows?"

  Eden smiled and nodded. She was thinking that she'd like to ask her partner a few questions about the way he'd misled her when it came to his oldest son—in saying that Jared wanted nothing to do with the bar, and swearing that Jared wouldn't be the least upset to hear his father had taken on a partner.

  But right now, she was looking at an old man with a painful injury. And somehow, now didn't seem the time to take him to task. She'd have it out with him later, when his wrinkled face didn't look quite so gray with pain and tiredness.

  "I can't stay long, you know," she told him.

  "Lucky you," he muttered dryly. "This place is a prison, don't let anyone tell you different. One more day, maybe two, and I'm outta here. 'Course, then I gotta go stay with Delilah for a while. That'll be a trial. But it can't be helped. Since school's out now, she's got time to take care of me." Oggie's only daughter was a teacher. "On second thought, maybe I'll just stay here in prison for a while."

  "Oh, come on, Oggie. Delilah will take wonderful care of you."

  Oggie looked at her from under his brows. "You ain't known Delilah for too long, Eden. And besides, since she married Sam, she comes across a lot different than she used to. Fulfillment will do that to even the most hard-hearted of women. But there was a time, and it wasn't too long ago, when I'd a shot myself in more than the foot before I'd ever let myself be put helpless into Delilah's hands."

  "Oh, Oggie. You're exaggerating."

  "You go ahead and believe that, Eden. You're a sweet. bighearted gal. A gentle woman like you don't even want to consider the bloodthirsty inclinations of her less civilized sisters."

  Eden couldn't help laughing. "Whatever you say, Oggie."

  "This ain't no laughing matter, Eden."

  "All right, all right."

  "Damn. What I wouldn't give for a smoke."

  "Oggie, listen. What I really came for is to see if there's anything I can do for you. You know, anything I can bring you, or any errands I can run?"

  "Yeah, hustle over to my house and bring me that box of cigars I left on the coffee table in the living room."

  "Now, now, Mr. Jones." A nurse bustled into room just as Oggie finished talking. "We already told you there is no smoking in the hospital. And besides, you're old enough to know what smoking does to you."

  "Yeah, if I'd a known I was gonna live this long, I mighta taken better care of myself."

  The nurse winked at Eden. "Isn't he a card?"

  Eden nodded. "Yep."

  "Now, Mr. Jones. The doctor will be coming by shortly and I think we should remove the dressing on that foot, so he can have a look at it."

  "How 'bout you just remove it by yourself?" Oggie asked.

  The nurse looked puzzled. "Yes. That's what I said."

  Oggie cackled, pleased with himself to be one step ahead of his nurse. "What'd I tell you, Eden? It's hell here."

  "I can see they're really making you suffer." Eden stood up. "I'll leave you two alone. But before I go, Oggie, I want you to tell me seriously. What can I do to help out?"

  "Aw, hell. I told you what I want. A good cigar. And a six-pack would be nice. And maybe a couple of blondes to help me drink the beer." He looked hopefully at
the nurse. She only shook her head. "See? What I want, they won't let me have. So just don't be a stranger while I'm down and out and I'll be happy."

  "You're sure?"

  "Yep. And take care of business."

  "You know I always do."

  He spoke to the nurse. "And she ain't foolin' neither. It was my lucky day, when Miss Eden Parker came to town."

  The nurse nodded and smiled.

  Though she should have known better, Eden still found her heart melting a little at the old flatterer's words. "Thanks, Oggie." She bent over and placed a kiss on his grizzled cheek. "You take care, now."

  Oggie made a face at the nurse. "See? With a business partner like this, what the hell do I need with a couple of blondes, anyway?" Oggie grabbed Eden's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Work hard. Make us lots of money."

  "I will. I promise."

  "And be patient with poor Jared. He ain't had an easy life, you know."

  Eden forced a cheerful smile, thinking that only Oggie could get away with bemoaning the troubled life Jared had led, when the old man himself was at least partly to blame for Jared's current problems. She promised, "I'll do my best."

  Oggie cackled. "That's just what I'm depending on." As he spoke, Eden thought she detected a crafty glint in her partner's eyes. But if she did, it disappeared as fast as it had come. She hesitated, thinking maybe she should ask him exactly what was going through that scheming mind of his.

  But then the nurse coughed and Eden realized that Oggie probably preferred privacy for the unbandaging of his mangled foot.

  Eden moved toward the door. "Okay, then. You call me if you need me. Otherwise, I'll drop in tomorrow, and stay a little longer." Tomorrow was Monday, and The Hole in the Wall would be closed, leaving Eden more time for visiting.

  Oggie placed a hand over his heart. "I'll be countin' the hours." Then he spoke to the nurse. "Okay, gorgeous, I'm all yours."

  * * *

  To Eden's surprise, things went pretty well at The Hole in the Wall that night. Jared arrived, looking sharp, promptly at seven. At first, when he moved behind the bar and their eyes met, Eden had an awful, sinking feeling in her stomach.