Trapped with the Mountain Man
Page 6
“Forget about it, Marcus.” Ivan urged, glaring at him. “You guys are not going anywhere near New York until all roads are clear.”
“Sorry if I’m interrupting anything.” I interjected, strolling up to their spot. “I figured you might be hungry.”
“Famished.” Marcus admitted, reaching out to take the tray. “Thanks. I was about to head over to my place, and the Mrs. has cooked beans. I hate beans.”
“Thank you.” Ivan nodded, admiration written all over his face.
“Well, enjoy.” I chirped, flashing him a bright-eyed look. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”
A sense of pride washed over me upon witnessing his reaction. I left Ivan and his staff gorge themselves on the beef, loving the warmth in his eyes. I couldn’t recall the last time I saw that rare shade of green so bright. Now however, I wasn’t going to bother thinking what he would tell me back home. What was the point in wondering about niceties and compliments from a man who had no intention of dating me? His gratitude was enough for me. He valued me as an employee. End of story.
Back in his house, I felt an urge to crawl under the covers and take a nap. My chores were over for the day, and I was tired. Still, when I passed the staircase that led to his basement, I put that thought aside. I had asked Ivan if he wanted me to clean up down there, but all he had to say was: “Nah, it’s a mess, full of stuff I mean to throw away someday. Don’t bother.”
Holding onto the railing for support, I went down the stairs. Something about it felt a little off. It was unusually clean for a place that had been neglected for a while. I didn’t feel any dust on my fingertips. I paid no attention to this. Perhaps Ivan’s former housekeeper had taken the time to dust before her illness. There was a closed, white door across from the staircase. I grabbed the handle and clicked it open. Stepping inside, I fumbled around on the wall. I found the light switch and pressed it; yet, what I came across was not the mess Ivan had described. On the contrary, the large room was spotless. A large portrait of a stunning blonde was on the far wall. I shuffled off towards it, but before I could take a closer look at it, I noticed a collage of pictures to the left. Ivan and the blonde were in most of them. They held hands, walking in the sunset. They kissed by the fireplace. My heart sank when I saw her resting her head on his chest, her eyes shut as he caressed her long tendrils. A notebook and a gray, marble stone with a name engraved in it were on a desk right below the pictures.
“Laura Higgins 1986-2013”
An object in the upper left corner of the room sent shockwave after shockwave down my spine. It was unfinished, but the two lines of bars next to one another didn’t leave much room for doubt. I was looking at a crib. Picking up the notebook with shaking fingers, I pried it open.
25-2-2018
It’s been five years without you, Laura. Five years since the day that accident took you and our boy from me. But the pain is still here, torturing me like the whole thing happened yesterday.
It doesn’t surprise me. This loss isn’t about time. It will never be about time. It will always be about the two people I loved more than anything else in this world. The pain won’t disappear. It might fade just a little bit, but I will carry it for the rest of my life. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but I can’t lie to you. I can’t hide from you, either. Besides, it’d be useless. You used to see right through me, baby. You’d tell if I was lying to you.
Things haven’t changed around here. The locals are still trying to set me up with their daughters. I keep telling them to go away, they do, but after a month or two, they come back. It’s as if they think something’s changed in the meantime. It hasn’t. They just can’t get it through their thick skulls that I’m not interested in settling down. Their girls may be lovely, but they’re not the problem. I’m the problem.
Every now and then, I come back down here, just to remember what we used to share. I haven’t forgotten anything, it’s just that I feel closer to you that way. I touch our unborn boy’s crib, trying to picture the moment when I’d hold him for the very first time. Once, I asked my father about that feeling. He said: ‘Anything I say won’t do it justice. You have to do this yourself to know exactly how it feels.’
You’ll always be with me, Laura. That’s why I’ve never said ‘goodbye.’ You and I will see each other again someday. Until then, take good care of yourself and our boy. God knows he needs his mother.
Love,
Ivan”
“Oh, my God…” I whispered, putting my fingers over my mouth. Two tears toppled over the edge of my eyes as I set the notebook back down on the desk. Anguish gripped my heart like a vice. Cold shivers shot through my system, leaving me to stare at the pictures in shock and agony. Everything made sense now. Ivan’s hesitation, the total absence of women in his life, his reaction to our kiss… I couldn’t even imagine the hell he had been through. Losing your significant other was a devastating blow, but he had lost more than that. She was pregnant. I dropped down to my knees, more tears spilling from my eyes when I remembered his shattered dream of holding his own son. Ivan had come so close to making that dream a reality. Yet, it had gone up in flames. And, judging by his letter to Laura, he wasn’t going to pursue it anymore.
I climbed up the stairs, sobbing and wishing I hadn’t attempted to satisfy my curiosity. Still, it wasn’t the only thing I regretted. Poor Ivan was carrying a massive burden, and he had me complaining to him about a stupid kiss. At that moment, I realized just how small a reason it was for a fight. At the same time, I comprehended that Ivan didn’t have just a big heart. He was all heart. He had to, in order to deal with the whims of a woman who’d barged into his life and demanded his attention, without having a clue about any baggage he might have.
Hours and hours rolled by, and I struggled to grasp the magnitude of this tragedy, going through two boxes of tissues. By nightfall though, it occurred to me that I could think about this for days or even weeks, and I would still be unable to do so. The man had lost his family overnight. His world had come crashing down around him. My mother had died recently, but it wasn’t the same. The only way I could understand the disaster that had befallen him, was for me to suffer something exactly like it. The mere thought of it sent my heart into a downward spiral.
I jumped from my seat at the sound of his truck. A glance up at the clock on the wall told me it was 7:40. Ivan was forty minutes late, but, in my agony, I lost track of time. I rushed off to the bathroom, hoping I had more than just a few moments to cover up the black circles under my eyes. Now, my only option was splashing lots of water onto my face. I turned on the faucet, suspecting that this was in vain. That revelation was too much for me to handle. I had cried a river of tears. And, when I looked up, I discovered that their effect was still evident. The redness in my eyes was there. They were still puffy, as if I had been sleeping for ten hours straight. I wiped the water off my skin, taking deep breaths. I wasn’t ready for a conversation with anyone, let alone him. I found Ivan in the kitchen, with his hands in his pockets and his usual, polite smile gracing his face.
“Hey there.” He said. “The roast beef was amazing. I hope there’s some left.”
“Um, uh…” I paused, keeping my gaze locked on the counter beside him. “I’ve put an extra plate in the oven.”
“You’re a godsend, Scarlet.” Ivan complemented. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Please, don’t do this.” I sighed, pulling the top drawer open. “We’ve kept it professional for two days. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I don’t recall saying you’re beautiful or anything.” He stated, his voice dripping with irony. “I just complimented you on your cooking.”
“By calling me ‘godsend’?” I wondered, flipping around to face him. “I’ve heard cooks being called a number of things. ‘Godsend’ isn’t one of them.”
“Drop it.” Ivan urged, his voice calm as he stared down at the knife in my hand.
“Oh, crap.” I groan
ed, banging my head in frustration. “I’m sorry.” I whispered, tossing it on the table. “I didn’t mean to…”
“What, threaten me?” He snorted in amusement. “I know. You look pretty upset. What’s wrong?”
“I know everything, Ivan.” I spoke too fast, my voice barely audible. “I was down in the basement earlier. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, I really am. But, most of all, I’m sorry for pressuring you to give me something you can’t. Don’t worry; I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the season’s over.”
“Damn…” He sighed, pursing his lips. “I’d tell you about it, eventually. I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”
“You cannot be serious.” I reprimanded, taking two steps closer to him. “I won’t be here this time next month. You didn’t have to tell me anything.”
I was hanging on his lips, desperate for some kind of response. Sadly though, he gave me none. Ivan dropped his gaze from me, pressing his lips together. His eyelids rolled shut, just before a tear streamed down his cheek. My heart was torn to hundreds of pieces. Reading about his gut-wrenching pain was one thing. Watching him break down in front of me was another. A huge desire to comfort him overwhelmed me. I reached up and cupped his face in both of my hands. Easing him closer, I tilted my head up. But, just when I was about to taste his mouth once more, Ivan leaned back.
“No…” He whispered on an exhale. “Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
“It’s not a mistake.” I disagreed, lightly shaking my head sideways. “Let me take away your pain.”
“It is.” Ivan insisted, somewhat raising his tone. “We’ll never be able to go back if we cross that line.”
At that, he trotted off across the kitchen, destroying any hope I had for intimacy between us. His refusal to accept the real reason why he turned me down for the second time annoyed me. Yet, it made no difference. We were still apart, and this sad truth was not going to change. If anything, it would make the reason of the Christmas season even harder…
Scarlet
The rest of the night was just as agonizing. I locked myself in my room, the image of Ivan’s tears swirling in my mind. I turned on the TV, but it wasn’t much of a distraction. How could I be distracted by talk shows, the news or soap operas after such an emotional day? In any case, Ivan’s rejection proved to me what I had been refusing to see for days: Staying in his estate was guaranteed to be excruciating for the both of us. I had unraveled his life. He could compliment me on my bookkeeping and cooking skills all he liked, but with me around, Ivan was being tormented. He had no need for any more torment. Furthermore, this uncertainty between us was killing me as well. And, even though my housekeeping chores didn’t require much concentration, the same couldn’t be said about bookkeeping. How would I be able to focus on my job now that I knew Ivan’s heartbreaking story? I wished I could find an answer to that question. It would help me reach a decision about my future faster. My future… What seemed certain the day he hired me, was now in jeopardy. I might have wanted to pay off my debt, but I also wanted some peace of mind. I had lost it during my stay in Ivan’s mansion and so had he for that matter.
I knew I was in for a déjà vu when I woke up the following morning. Once again, we were going to try and avoid each other. Still, as I walked out of my room, I realized that I didn’t have to do so just yet. Ivan wasn’t in the house. Instead of him, I found a small note on the kitchen table.
“The blizzard’s headed to our region. I need to prepare the house and secure our inventory. Meet me out in the farm when you read this.
Ivan”
My stomach chilled with fear. I had witnessed firsthand what a blizzard could do to a big city. I was sure it could have even more devastating effects on a small town like Adams. I put my clothes on in a hurry, wondering what Ivan meant by “preparing the house.”
A cool breeze and a light snowfall greeted me as I found myself in his front yard. What really stunned me though, was the absolute silence around me. I could hear the wind rustling through the cedar tree. I even caught a glimpse of a small amount of snow falling off one of its lower branches. The blizzard had forced Ivan to ground his trucks. For a man who put the safety of his staff first, this was only natural. I strode up the short hill outside his tree farm, feeling much calmer than the night before. Mother Nature had succeeded in giving me what a warm, cozy house couldn’t: Peace of mind. Ivan was strutting along the gap between two rows of trees, writing something down in his clipboard.
“Good morning.” He said with a nod, his voice coming out hoarser than usual. “I’m sorry for dragging you out here, but I just finished carrying logs into the cabin. My drivers would do that this morning, but I told them to stay home.”
“It’s okay.” I assured. “What did you want to see me about?”
“The blizzard’s going to hit hard.” Ivan announced, clenching his jaw. “The weather service says it’s going to last days, maybe even a week. I’m making a grocery list and I need your help. Can you think of anything we need?”
“Not really.” I retorted, shrugging my shoulders. “The fridge is stocked. Your cabinets are full, too. Some extra water might come in handy, especially if the blizzard lasts more than four or five days. And Ivan…” I faltered, swallowing hard. “Not ‘we.’ You. I’ve been thinking. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to move back to my studio loft. I’ll come back when the blizzard’s over. Take these days out of my paycheck. You don’t need me here, anyway.”
“What?!” He exclaimed, his face twisting with a mix of surprise and anger. “Why?”
“Because we keep messing each other up, that’s why!” I emphasized, intensifying my stare. “For God’s sake, Ivan! Can’t you see it?”
Once more, he didn’t give me a verbal response. He shut down on me, letting out a deep, heavy sigh. This time however, he didn’t disappear. Instead, he stepped closer to me, his clipboard slipping from his grasp. Ivan thrust his arms around my waist, pulling me in for a passionate kiss. If this had come just twenty-four hours earlier, I would have jumped into his arms. The setting was ideal for a romantic moment. I could feel snowflakes getting tangled in my hair. Now though, my senses rebelled at the thought of surrendering to him. I winced and pushed him away, as anger spread within me like wildfire.
“Damn it, Ivan! What the hell are you doing?” I cried out, tossing a ferocious glare up at him. I didn’t wait for him to explain. I flipped around and burst out in the direction I had come from. Part of me wanted to stay there and call him names like “immature,” “irresponsible” and “childish.” He had earned each and every one of them. That man changed his mind every few hours. I could understand his sorrow, but he had to understand I wasn’t a silly little girl he could play with. Within seconds, I was out of his tree farm, running back to his house. But, before I could reach it, I missed a step, just a few feet away from his front yard. I landed flat and hard on my chest, burying my face and ears in the snow. I rolled over, a sigh of exasperation leaving my lips. The searing pain in my ankle forced a moan of agony from me.
“Scarlet!” Ivan’s tense voice filled my ears. He was hurtling towards my spot. “Scarlet, what happened?”
“What does it look like?” I grumbled, holding back another groan. Ivan then bent down and circled his left arm around my back. Placing his right hand under my knees, he picked me up in his arms and arose to his imposing stature. I curled my right arm around his neck as snowflakes fell from my hair.
“Let’s get you inside.” He suggested, settling his gaze on his front door. A kiss under the falling snow. Ivan carrying me into his home. I had been dreaming about both those moments. Nevertheless, I had never considered being kissed less than a day after a flat-out rejection. Neither had I thought I would be in pain while he carried me. Ivan had made sure to ruin those dreams. At that point, I was so mad at him that I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Setting me down on the couch, he moved around it. Then, he eased my boot off and pulled my sock down enough to e
xpose my ankle. “It’s good there’s no swelling.” He remarked, slipping a pillow under my foot. “How bad does it hurt? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”
“It’s not that bad.” I informed, my voice deepening. “You’re a mystery to me, you know that? I mean, we kiss, you stop it, I try to kiss you, you pull away, and today? What were you thinking?”
“Okay, obviously I made a mistake back there.” He admitted, his tone soft as he sat down on his knees beside me. “I wasn’t thinking. It was just an impulse. I’m sorry.”
“Well, I’m sorry for being so rude to you.” I said, averting my gaze from him. “I shouldn’t be talking to you like that.”
“Stay here.” Ivan urged. “I’m going down to the supermarket. I won’t be long. If there’s any swelling, we’re going to the hospital. That’s not up for debate. Don’t move until I get back, alright?”
I nodded assent, understanding there was nothing much I could do. I had to admit that his apology moved me. Still, it wasn’t new; he had apologized to me in his tree farm. It was noble of him, but his erratic behavior outweighed it. Ivan was unpredictable. Yes, he had all the excuses in the world to behave like that, but how could I rely on him? That question plagued my mind. I needed stability, and it was obvious he couldn’t give it to me. Alas, I was daydreaming again. Men provide stability to women they are dating, not their housekeepers. We were not going to happen. I just had to accept that.
Almost an hour later, he returned, with a few bags of groceries and enough water to last us a month. After unloading his truck, he strode back to his couch, and threw a quick glance down at my ankle.
“It looks like we’re not going to the hospital after all.” He concluded, noticing the absence of a swelling. “Take a bath. Get some sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”
“Are you sure?” I squinted. “I can…”