MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN

by Christine Rimmer

  And even if Oggie's plan was crazy, what else was there? Nothing that she could think of. While Jared was with her, she'd tried everything she could imagine to get him to give their love a chance. She'd slowly coaxed him into telling her about himself. After they'd become lovers, she'd shown him what they might share. At the end, she'd pleaded and even fought with him outright to try to get him to see the light. None of it had worked. She was fresh out of ways to convince Jared to return to her.

  Oggie's plan, on the other hand, was a totally different approach than any of the ones Eden had used. It was clever and outrageous—not to mention devious and manipulative.

  As a general rule, Eden despised deviousness and manipulation. But Oggie seemed so certain that what he had in mind would work. His confidence, as always, was contagious.

  And besides, at the very least, the plan might draw Jared out, bring him to her. Then she'd have a chance to try once more to make him see that she wanted nothing so much as to spend her life at his side.

  "But how will he find out what we're doing?" She turned from the window to face the old man. "We don't even know where he is."

  Oggie was ready for that. "The other boys'll find him. You wait and see. If you got the style to pull this off so it looks real, they're all gonna be purely outraged. Every one of them believes you and Jared are a match made in God's heaven. They're practically as brokenhearted as you are at the problems you're havin'. But they're not beatin' the bushes for Jared, because they think there's no big rush for him to get back here. All we're gonna do is provide that big rush." Oggie puffed on his cigar and then sighed in contentment. He went on. "They'll all be howlin' mad when they get an earful of what you and me are gonna do. They'll be sure I took advantage of you on the rebound. Hell, when my girl Delilah hears what we're plannin', she'll be breathin' fire. After she tells the two of us off good and proper, she'll go lookin' for Jared, too. And nobody hides from Delilah when she's riled."

  "You think she'll be able to find him?"

  "I ain't got a doubt in my mind about it."

  "Well, if you're sure…"

  Oggie chortled. "Trust me, gal. I know what I'm doin'." He granted himself a generous sip of the whiskey Eden had poured for him. Then he cautioned, "We have to make it look real, though. First, we get a license, and then I'll have me a little talk with Reverend Johnson…"

  * * *

  Oggie's black-haired daughter knocked on Eden's door at eight Saturday morning.

  Eden, still in her robe, had just finished making coffee.

  "Um, good morning Delilah. Won't you … come in?" Eden held open the door and Delilah stepped in inside. "Would you like some coffee?"

  "No, thank you." Delilah folded her slim arms over her rather magnificent breasts. "Eden, last night I spoke with my friend Nellie Anderson. Nellie works as a volunteer secretary over at the Community Church."

  "I see," Eden replied. She didn't really know what else to say. She had a pretty good idea where this was leading, but there wasn't much to do but let it play itself out. Delilah continued with some delicacy, "Nellie had some interesting news for me concerning a wedding."

  Eden swallowed. "Oh," she heard herself say.

  "After hearing this news, I said several very rude things to my father. And then I decided that it was time you and I had a talk."

  "Yes. All right." Eden gestured toward the living room. "Why don't we sit in there?"

  In the living room, Delilah sat on one end of the couch. She wasted no time getting to the point. "All of us in the family are certain that you're in love with Jared. Is that true?"

  Eden, who felt unable right then to sit down, responded with an evasion. "Why do you want to know?"

  Delilah's black eyes bored through her. "That's an absurd question if I ever heard one. But, for the sake of form, I'll answer it. I want to know if you love my brother, because if you do love him, then you really should not be marrying my father in a week."

  I'm not marrying your father, Eden thought. It's only a trick, to get Jared to come back to me.

  But she couldn't say that, of course. Part of the plan was that the rest of the family must believe she really intended to marry Oggie.

  What could she say? She bravely threw herself into the deception. "Oggie and I get along well. We're quite fond of each other. And I believe we'll have a good marriage."

  When Eden finished speaking Delilah gaped at her for a moment. And then Oggie's daughter tossed back her head and laughed, a wild laugh that made Eden think of what a strange woman Delilah was, a prim schoolteacher one moment, a wild gypsy creature the next.

  "What is so funny?" Eden asked tightly, when Delilah was through laughing.

  "Nothing." Delilah wiped away a few mirthful tears. "I just figured this out, that's all."

  "What do you mean?"

  "This is one of my father's brilliant schemes, right?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You are an appallingly bad liar."

  "Honestly, I—"

  Delilah waved away Eden's protests. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

  Eden felt lost. "About what?"

  "Listen, all I'm saying is that my father's schemes can be dangerous. And more often than not, he has some hidden agenda. As his partner, you ought to have learned by now that you've got to watch all the angles when Oggie Jones is around. Because you can be sure he'll be watching them. You must be very careful, or you could end up doing what he wants, rather than what you thought he'd agreed you both wanted."

  "What are you saying?"

  "My father has a crush on you, did you know that?"

  Eden frowned. "He does?"

  "Yes, I'm sure of it. But he's also downright fanatic about seeing all his children married and settled down. So, in addition to having a crush on you, I believe he really does want to see you and Jared work things out. The question is, what is my father's underlying objective here? Luring Jared back into town? Or is it actually that my father wants to marry you himself, and he thinks he can trick you into it by arranging this wedding and convincing you it isn't really going to happen?"

  Eden could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Oggie wouldn't—"

  "You'd be surprised what my father would do. But tell me. What will you do, if Jared still refuses to come back, even after he learns that you plan to marry his father?"

  "Well, I—"

  "Never mind. Don't tell me. It doesn't matter if I know, so long as you know what you'll do." Delilah's smooth brow furrowed. "You do know what you'll do, don't you?"

  Eden's head was spinning. "Truly, Delilah, right this minute, I haven't the faintest idea."

  "Then think about it."

  "Yes. I certainly will."

  "And I suppose you should go and talk to Jared. It's going to be pretty hard for him to stop you from marrying my father if he doesn't even know you're doing it."

  "Well yes, exactly. And I'd love to go talk with him. If I only knew where he went. As a matter of fact, Oggie said he thought that you might be able to find him."

  Delilah let out an exasperated groan. "I do have a life, you know? And I probably shouldn't even have come to talk to you about this. I always end up in trouble myself whenever I get involved in my brothers' problems. I could tell you stories…" She sighed. "But never mind. Yes, I do have an idea where he is."

  "You do?" Eden's heart picked up a faster rhythm. "Where?"

  "Look. This is just a hunch. I'm not guaranteeing he'll be there. And I'm only going to show you the way. You can go after him yourself. After all, he's your man, not mine."

  * * *

  Chapter 19

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  Though anticipation kept her nerves on a razor's edge, Eden waited until Monday to use the map Delilah had drawn for her. She worked both Saturday night and the early shift Sunday. She wanted an entire free day in which to seek Jared out. And she didn't want to ask anyone to cover for her at work. For one thing, she didn't want to explain
where she was going. Also, she'd slighted her business enough during those grim days right after Jared left her. Whenever possible, she wasn't going to do that anymore.

  Thus, on Monday morning, she got in the Bronco four-by-four that Delilah had told her she might borrow, and headed out of town. She turned off the highway at the place Delilah had described to her.

  She drove what seemed to her like forever. Most of the ride was through shady forest of oak and evergreen. The road clung to the side of the mountain, winding upward.

  At last, soon after the road grew rutted, and she was forced to switch over to four-wheel-drive, she came out onto an open place of manzanita and close-growing buck-brush. There the sky was a splendid expanse of blue and the sun beat down, friendly and warm with just a hint of autumn's chilly bite in it.

  A mile or two later, she came to the turnoff and the crude gate Delilah had described to her: a thick cablelike wire strung between two pine trees and secured with a heavy padlock. She got out of the Bronco and used the key Delilah had lent her.

  She crested the mountain soon after that and began driving down into a small valley. The hillsides of manzanita and brush were left behind and she was back among the trees again. Sunlight came down through the branches in ribbons and shafts, creating natural spotlights that pointed out the iridescent green of a mossy rock, or the sparkle of natural crystal within a quartz boulder.

  Eden took in the wild beauty around her. Concentrating on the scenery helped her to ignore the tension that kept coiling tighter in her stomach. Very soon, she might be coming face-to-face once again with the man she loved.

  She reached the valley floor, crossed a pair of narrow streams and found herself on a plain of baked-dry red dirt, within a sea of willow bushes on which clung leaves that had already turned gold. To her left, red dirt hills rose, steep and absolutely naked of all greenery until the very top, where the forest started again, ragged at the edges like a torn carpet. Eden knew what the blasted hills signified. Once, hydraulic mining had been done here.

  Eden stared at the stripped hills and marveled at what she saw. She'd heard that they called the huge hoses that had done this thing "water cannons." Now she understood why. For almost a century, mining for gold by ripping through to ancient riverbeds with powerful jets of water had been illegal. And yet still the blasted hills remained flayed bare, even after decade upon decade had come and gone. The damage was long-lasting. And spectacular to see.

  Eden turned her gaze ahead once more and saw the cabin.

  As Delilah had warned her, the place was very crude, a tar-paper shack where Jared's Uncle Cleve and his partners used to stay while they worked the hard-rock mine across the ravine for gold. The shack sat on the edge of the valley of willows, with the ravine at its back. The red hills loomed over all. Opposite the hills, the faraway mountains seemed to go on forever beneath their verdant blanket of evergreen.

  The shack had a door with two wooden steps leading up to it and what looked like a deck on one side. The deck had long ago collapsed and was slowly in the process of tumbling piecemeal down the ravine.

  A tin chimney stuck out of the cabin's roof. From it, smoke drifted lazily toward the pristine sky. In front of the cabin there was a small ring of stones with a rusted grate over it: a barbecue pit. Jared's truck was parked on the far side of the barbecue pit, right below the rise that led up to the outhouse.

  Eden stopped the engine. She got out of the Bronco. She shut the door firmly. The sound was like the crack of a rifle in the stillness. Ordering her suddenly racing heart to slow down, she marched up to the shack and pounded on the door.

  Nothing happened.

  So she took the cracked porcelain knob in her trembling hand and turned it. The door opened toward her with a long slow groan. She peered beyond the threshold into a rough room with one small window, plank shelves lining the walls, an ancient wood stove and a sink with a pump faucet. There was a rickety table and two chairs. And an old brass bed against one wall.

  Jared was sitting on the bed, his feet stretched out in front of him, using the wall for a backrest. He was fully dressed. In fact, it looked as if he might have stayed fully dressed in the same clothes for the past couple of days at least. He hadn't bothered to shave for a while either, and his dark heard was rough and random on his scowling face.

  He held a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand.

  For a moment, he blinked and stared at Eden. She knew he was wondering if what he saw was real.

  And then he must have decided he wasn't quite drunk enough to be seeing things.

  "Get the hell out," he said.

  Eden didn't move. She wanted to cry. She wanted to rant and rail at him. But most of all, she ached for him.

  The sink was full of dishes, the table displayed the remains of a number of meals. There were clothes strewn on the chairs and thrown across the foot of the bed. The place was a mess. He was going through exactly what she'd gone through in trying to forget what they'd share. But it was worse for him, because he'd hidden himself away where it took a four-by-four to get to him. And because he'd embraced his old demon, alcohol, to try to drive her from his heart.

  "Oh, Jared…"

  "Get out."

  "Jared, I—"

  He turned his head toward the wall.

  "Please come back to me," she pleaded softly. "I miss you so."

  He said nothing.

  "Jared—"

  "You heard me. I said get out."

  "Once you told me that you always tried to do the right thing, remember?"

  "I said—"

  "But the right thing always backfired."

  "—Get out."

  "Well, look at you now, Jared. Is sitting here drunk in this filthy shack the answer to anything? Why can't you believe I know my own mind, Jared? Why can't you believe that when I say you're the man for me, I mean what I'm saying? Why can't you trust just one more time, Jared? Reach out your hand to love just one more time?"

  He raised the bottle of whiskey, put it to his mouth and swallowed deeply. Then he grimaced as it burned its way down his throat. "Give it up, Eden," he said. "Give it up and go."

  She stepped beyond the threshold and pulled the door closed behind her.

  He turned away again, muttering under his breath.

  She could think of nothing more to say to him, no new way to tell him of her love. She had hoped, yearned really, for a tender reunion. But she'd known Jared's stubbornness well enough that she hadn't actually expected one.

  And he'd armed himself doubly against her with alcohol, she knew. She'd worked in bars long enough to have learned that it never did a bit of good to reason with a drunk. It was pointless to try to get through to him now.

  Eden realized there was nothing left to do but hit him with the news of what she and Oggie planned and then go. Either he'd take it from there, or he wouldn't.

  She went and stood beside him, though he resolutely refused to look at her again. "All right. I'll go. But I wanted you to know that your father's made me an offer. And I've accepted. I came here hoping that you'd ask me to change my mind, but it appears I was living in a fool's dream on that score."

  She had his attention now. He rolled his head and pinned her to the spot with his bloodshot gaze. "What offer?"

  She didn't waver. "He's asked me to marry him. I said yes. We'll be married in the North Magdalene Community Church in five days' time, this coming Saturday at 2:00 p.m."

  Jared went on glaring at her. Then he muttered an obscenity and turned away again. "I don't believe you."

  "Fine. That's up to you." She started to turn away.

  He demanded, "Why the hell would you want to wreck your life? What for?"

  Eden felt a tiny surge of hope. Maybe they were getting somewhere after all.

  But before she could answer, he waved his own outburst away. "Forget it. Never mind. What you do with your life is your own damned business. If you want to ruin it to get even with me, you can go ahead and be a
fool. I'm not involved. Now go away."

  Eden, wounded to the core and also truly disgusted with him, felt tears of total frustration rising to her eyes. She looked away from him. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. That was when she noticed the rifle, on a wall rack by the door.

  It took her five giant steps to get to it. She reached up and ripped it from the wall. Then she checked to see if it was loaded; it was.

  Jared commanded, "Put that damn thing back where it belongs."

  Eden looked at him. She was not crying now. She marched back to his side and held the gun out to him. "Here. It's loaded. Why don't you go ahead and shoot yourself, Jared Jones, instead of killing yourself slowly with whiskey this way? Because I know and you know that you love me. As long as you're breathing, you'll love me. And if you don't reach out and take me, you'll have to stay drunk the rest of your life to stand the pain of what you threw away yourself. That's how the men in your family are when they find the right woman for them. And if that's not involved, I don't know what is!"

  Jared, whose mouth was hanging open, carefully accepted the rifle from her hands and set it on his other side, where she would be unlikely to he able to reach it again.

  Eden wasn't finished. "You think about it, Jared. You consider carefully if you can afford to just sit out here in the woods with a whiskey bottle for company and let everything you ever wanted slip right out of your hands. Because I'm not in love with your father, but I do care for him. And I believe he and I could have a good life together. I truly do. You see, I'm not obsessed with how old a man is the way you are, Jared. It's the heart and the mind that matter. And as long as two people are both adults, how may years lie between them doesn't make too much difference to me." She bent down to him and put her face right up to his. "On the day you left me, I took the money you gave me and I bought a wedding dress. I dreamed then that I would wear it when I became your wife. But whether you're there or not, Jared, I'll be wearing it next Saturday. Do you hear me in there? Have I made myself clear?"