Mountain Man: A Contemporary Romance (Contemporary Standalone Romances Book 3)

by H. P. Mallory

  “You’d like to think we both have different lives,” she started, and her voice sounded angry, her tone more like the one I was accustomed to. “But there’s more to this story.”

  “Let’s let it wait until tomorrow. I’m tired,” I started.

  “No, it can’t wait,” she insisted, fire brewing underneath her voice. This was more like the Janet I was used to—the one who was accustomed to getting her way and wouldn’t settle for anything less.

  “Okay, make it quick. Your five minutes have already expired.”

  “The fact of the matter is that after you left me, I found out I was pregnant.”

  “What?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes at her as my heart sank, and I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. I suddenly remembered the day I’d left her. It was one of those memories that was so vivid, I doubted I’d ever forget it even though it was close to the worst memory I’d ever experienced.

  The day I’d decided to leave Janet, I’d packed my bags, and I’d packed my truck, and then I’d gotten out of our town as quickly as I could, all the while calling my lawyer and telling him to draft divorce papers. I’d never talked to her again, and I’d never looked back. I’d handled everything through the lawyer, and I’d been happy to do it that way.

  But now as I looked at her, all those awful feelings came roaring back in again. Of course, I was well aware that some wounds take longer to heal than others, but I’d thought this particular one was long since gone. Yet, standing here now and looking down at the woman who had ripped my heart out, I was all too aware that the wound had never fully healed but just scabbed over. And now it was still very much raw.

  “Yes, you heard me right,” she insisted. “I was pregnant, and you were gone, and there was no way to get in touch with you.”

  “You could have told my lawyer who you were regularly in contact with,” I pointed out, still doubting the legitimacy of her claim. The hospital I was starting to believe but a pregnancy? A baby? It just seemed too coincidental.

  “Yes, I could have told your lawyer,” she started but then stopped talking.

  “But?” I pushed her, determined to find out if whatever she was telling me was just another fabrication. Janet had been the queen of lies, so why should she be any different now?

  “But I didn’t say anything to him because I was afraid to.”

  “Afraid of what?”

  “That if he knew I’d been on coke during the pregnancy, he would alert the authorities, and they would take my baby away.”

  “So, you’re telling me you had the baby?” I demanded, my heart beating so fast, I was out of breath.

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re saying the baby is mine?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re saying you were doing coke the entire time you were pregnant?” I demanded angrily.

  “I was in a bad way.”

  “So, when was the stint at the mental hospital? Before or after the baby was born?”

  “After. About a year after.”

  I looked at the sheet of paper which was still in my hand and searched for anything that might tell me how long she was committed there. It looked like it was roughly a year, so what she was saying checked out.

  “Where was the baby while you were in the mental hospital?” I demanded, thinking she might have been selling me a well-rehearsed story. She was so manipulative, I wouldn’t have put it past her.

  “He was with my brother and his wife. They took care of him while I was in the hospital.”

  “And where is he now?”

  “He’s still with them.”

  “How long have you been in Marshall Heights?”

  She took a deep breath. “Can we please go inside and discuss this? I’m freezing.”

  I didn’t say anything but just nodded quickly as I opened the door, and Camille came trotting back up the stairs, not paying any attention to Janet. Instead, she walked inside and resumed her spot in front of the fireplace, curling herself into a ball.

  “Can you tell the dog, er…wolf, to go outside?” Janet asked.

  “No,” I answered as I closed the door behind her and turned on the lights. She looked around herself with obvious disappointment.

  “You live here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Definitely different from the house we had in Vegas,” she said as she turned around and then smiled at me. “Can I sit down?”

  “If you want.”

  She took a seat on my couch and kept her attention on Camille who was indifferent to either of us being there. She was more interested in sleeping. “I’ve been in Marshall Heights for two weeks.”

  “Since you got out?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “You never told me how you found me.”

  “I made friends with another patient at the hospital,” she started as she began rubbing her hands together as if she had just put on lotion. It was a bizarre thing she’d always done whenever she was nervous. It was strange how it suddenly brought me back so many years, to a time when I was a completely different man, living a completely different life. “And he happened to be a private investigator before he found himself with a pretty hefty drug problem. He, well, he had a bit of a crush on me and was willing to help me so I gave him all the information I had about you, and he did the rest.”

  “I need some time to digest this,” I started as I put the letter on my counter and rubbed the back of my neck. If what she was saying was true, there was a chance I had a son.

  “Of course,” she started as she stood up and approached me. She started to reach out as if she wanted to touch my arm, but I backed away.

  “Don’t touch me,” I said, and her eyebrows raised to the ceiling in obvious surprise. “In fact, you can leave now. I need to be alone,” I continued.

  “I expect you to follow up with me about this tomorrow,” she said with a haughty expression, one I knew too well.

  “I will,” I answered as I nodded. “Where are you staying?”

  She reached inside her purse and produced a piece of paper and a pen. Then she walked over to the counter and started writing. When she was finished, she handed me the slip of paper.

  “That’s my address. I’m working tomorrow at two so you can stop by before that. What’s your phone number?” she continued as she pulled out her cell phone and then eyed me impatiently.

  I debated giving it to her but then figured it was something I should do, so I gave it to her. She entered it into her phone and then smiled up at me.

  I walked her to the door and watched her plod off to her car. She’d parked behind my storage shed, so it was no wonder I hadn’t seen the car when I pulled up.

  As she drove away, a feeling of emptiness began to consume me as I battled with everything she’d just said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Delilah

  I wasn’t sure if my mom was correct in everything she’d said about William’s feelings for me, but I figured she probably was. In general, my mom was always right. Putting aside the fact that William had taken however long to make the angel for me, the more important fact was that he’d put his own life in harm’s way in order to protect mine. And in no way was he obliged to do what he had. He could have never involved himself, and he would have had every right. And yet that wasn’t what happened.

  So, the next morning, when I found myself borrowing the car that Mom and I shared so I could drive out beyond city limits and head up the mountain, I wasn’t that surprised. I hadn’t been able to sleep all night because my brain had been busily laying the foundation for the plan today. It was Saturday, and I didn’t have to work—truthfully, I wasn’t even sure if the bank would be open today after what had happened. Regardless, I knew the whole weekend would find me anxious every second of every minute that I didn’t get to see William. So, I rounded up whatever strength and courage I still possessed, and I headed towards Peak Mountain.

  I didn’t know exactly where William lived beca
use I couldn’t remember the house number. He’d come into the bank so many times over the last year that I remembered from his checks that he lived on Oak Bridge Lane, the only road off the highway which led to the top of Peak Mountain. Maybe it was a wild goose chase, but I figured I’d head up the mountain and maybe I’d come across someone who might know where William lived.

  I found out the hard way that Oak Bridge Lane was a single lane, unpaved road that was as narrow as it was winding. I probably averaged twenty miles an hour the entire way up the mountain, scared to death that at any second, I would lose control of the car and go careening off the cliff, never to be heard from or seen again.

  It was maybe thirty minutes from the moment I turned onto Oak Bridge Lane that I came across the first house. Well “house” was a bit of an exaggeration. The structure before me was more of a cabin. It was small, consisting of maybe two to three rooms, if I had to guess. It was constructed mostly of rock, although the roof was made from wood shingles. There was a narrow wooden staircase that led up to the front door, which looked like one of those barn doors which are so popular nowadays. I pulled into the space just in front of the small house, killing the engine as I noticed the plumes of smoke billowing from the stone fireplace. That had to mean that whoever lived here was home and hopefully could tell me where William lived. I had a feeling most folks who lived up on this mountain knew each other pretty well.

  When I stepped out of my Ford Escort, I immediately wrapped my arms around myself because the air at this altitude was freezing cold! There was a crispness to it that was refreshing though, and I had to imagine that it was the cleanest air I’d breathed in a long time. The sounds of wildlife filled the air, chirping of insects and the songs of birds as they flitted overhead, from one tree to the next. I started around the front of the car and toward the cabin, but as soon as I touched foot on the stair, I heard the pronounced and definite sound of growling coming from directly behind me.

  My heart froze as I slowly turned around to face what appeared to be a gigantic gray wolf that was maybe ten feet away from me. It was so large that I imagined the top of its back would probably reach my waist. The creature was facing me with its hackles raised, its front paws shoulder width apart and its lips pulled back to reveal a set of very impressively sharp teeth. I swallowed hard, not even aware that I’d been holding my breath until my body forced itself to inhale because my brain was evidently on hiatus.

  I didn’t know what to do. Clearly this wolf was hungry because I thought wolves, in general, were solitary creatures, and I couldn’t imagine they would venture out of the woods and into the habitat of man without good reason. And if it was hungry, I probably looked a lot like lunch. The wolf started to move closer to me as I tried to figure out what the hell I should do. The passenger side of my car was currently the most accessible to me, maybe five feet to my left. The only problem was that the wolf was now standing in front of me and immediately adjacent to the front of the car. If I ran for the car, I wasn’t sure if I’d make it before the wolf took me down. But, really, what other option did I have?

  The wolf took another step closer to me, growling even more loudly as I tried to will my feet into cooperating. But it was as if they were stuck in tar or quicksand or something equally frustrating because I simply could not get myself to move.

  “Camille!” I heard the loud, commanding voice from my right side, but I refused to take my eyes off the wolf in front of me, a wolf who apparently answered to the name of Camille. “Sit!” the man continued, his voice now sounding closer to me.

  The wolf, Camille, looked from me to the man, who I imagined was standing just behind me, and then back to me again, her gold eyes almost appearing to glow from her gray fur. He whistled as she faced him again and then apparently giving up the hunt, jogged away from me and over to him. I felt my shoulders drop as I breathed a sigh of relief and carefully turned to face my savior.

  “William?” I asked at the same time that his eyes widened as soon as he recognized me. We both just stood there for a second as I tried to compute the fact that not only was William standing there, right in front of me, but he also kept a wolf as a companion. I figured I could characterize her as such because she was sitting right beside him and he was patting her head like she was as docile as a golden retriever.

  “Angel?” he asked finally, a frown still marring his handsome features. That was when I realized he’d completely shaved his beard off, and his hair was nowhere near as long as it had been. He looked much younger and so incredibly handsome I found it nearly impossible to take my eyes off him. “I’ve gotta admit, I’m surprised to see you all the way out here.”

  “Yes, well,” I started before clearing my throat as I tried to remember the story I’d concocted to explain why I was all the way up here. But, for some reason, I couldn’t recall much of anything at all, let alone the lines I’d rehearsed in my head. “Yes,” I said again as I nodded and found it difficult to take my eyes off the wolf. “Is that a wolf?” I asked finally, just wanting to make sure I had my facts straight.

  “Yes,” William answered. “But I’ve trained her well. She won’t hurt you.”

  Could’ve fooled me, but I didn’t say anything. Instead I just smiled at him, as if to say I was perfectly fine with the fact that he’d domesticated a wild and ferocious animal. But then it made perfect sense, seeing as how this was William Black we were talking about. Of course, he had a wolf for a pet! The more I thought about it, the more I decided I should never have expected anything otherwise.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, clearly at a loss as to why I was standing here, in the middle of nowhere, far away from my own town and in front of him.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I answered immediately, feeling suddenly embarrassed that I’d come all the way out here and now I couldn’t speak. I could only imagine how completely bizarre this must have looked to him. Arriving unexpected with no invitation… What the hell was wrong with me? “I, um, I came to talk to you.”

  He nodded, as if he’d expected me to say that much. Then he turned to face his cabin as Camille stood up and trotted up the stairs, pushing open the front door with her long muzzle and disappearing inside. So, the wolf was an indoor wolf...

  “Would you mind if we talk inside?” he asked as he started for the stairs. “I have a stew cooking and I’d rather not burn it.”

  “Sure, of course,” I answered immediately, silently thrilled that he’d invited me in. The idea of seeing where William lived and the things he owned was strangely exciting to me. Maybe it was because I knew so little about him. He didn’t say anything more but simply turned on his heels and started for the front door, leaving me to follow him. Once inside, he held the door open for me and then closed it behind us as soon as I found myself standing in his living room, enveloped in the warmth coming from the fireplace. The smell inside his home was earthy, just like William himself. As I’d imagined, his cabin was small. It appeared to consist of the large room in which I was now standing that also boasted an attached kitchen. On the opposite end of the room were two doors—one I imagined led into a bathroom and the other into a bedroom. Although there were four or five windows, it was still fairly dark inside which made the place feel…cozy.

  “How did you know where I live?” he asked as he took off his jacket and draped it over one of the two chairs by the wood table. He approached the fireplace where a metal pot was hanging from a long nail and kneeling down, he picked up a folded hand towel which he used to remove the lid from the pot. But I couldn’t say that I was that interested in what he was doing. Instead, I couldn’t help but admire the breadth of his shoulders and how they were nearly as broad as the fireplace. The guy was massive.

  “I remembered part of your address from your checks,” I admitted with a shrug, feeling embarrassed all over again. How in the world had I convinced myself that this was a good idea? “Although I wasn’t sure of your house number, so when I stumbled across this place, I figured I’d ask wh
oever lived here.” I took a deep breath and noticed I was fidgeting with the hemline of my jacket. “I mean, I figured you and your neighbors probably all know each other pretty well.”

  “This is the only house for miles,” he responded as he turned to look at me, before placing the top back on the pot and then he carried the pot to the kitchen and placed it on the counter.

  “Oh,” I answered sheepishly as he approached me, towering over me until I felt like I was three inches tall. My heartbeat started to increase as anxiety plagued me and I wondered what he thought about me coming up here and invading his privacy—privacy that he obviously took very seriously. “I hope I’m not interrupting you?” I said lamely, just needing to make conversation.

  “I do have to head into town to see Sheriff Dale in a few hours,” he answered. “I’m meeting my lawyer there.”

  That was when I remembered that he’d been released since he’d refused to talk to the police without his lawyer present. If he was headed back into town, that meant I didn’t have much time left to say what I’d come to say. And, besides, I didn’t want to be gone long either because I always worried about Mom. So, I mustered up what very little courage I had remaining, and I took a deep breath. “I will make this quick then,” I started as his eyebrows reached for the ceiling in surprise. “I came here to… talk to you about your…feelings for me.”

  It felt like my stomach dropped all the way down to my toes as an uncomfortable heat claimed my cheeks because the expression on his face told me he wasn’t sure what feelings I was referring to. And that was when I wished I could have a do-over, that I could rewind the last hour and talk myself out of the decision I’d made to come up here. Because now it was fairly clear that this had been nothing more than a huge mistake.

  Chapter Twelve

  William