When Mountains Sing

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When Mountains Sing Page 20

by Stacy Monson


  “What? When have I ever—”

  Rob cut him off, reaching for the cards. “Don’t even go there or we’ll tell you when.” He looked at Mikayla as he shuffled. “Ready?”

  She set her napkin on her plate, surprised when Dawson reached for the tray. “You don’t have to do that. You brought dinner. The least I can do is bus my own dishes.”

  “I’ll do it this time,” he said over his shoulder. “You’re on kitchen clean up the next two days.”

  Amidst the razzing of her teammates, she watched him leave the building, then turned her attention to the game. As much as she enjoyed every staffer at the camp, Dawson’s presence provided a sense of…something. Safety? Reassurance? Calm.

  He was going to say something about the email from Dad. She shook the thought away and studied her cards. Probably just that God would help her deal with it.

  ~ 28 ~

  Propped in bed after the raucous card game, knees neatly rebandaged, Mikayla opened her email and sucked in a breath. Mom. There’d been one brief email of apology over the past months but no phone calls or texts just as she’d said to her mother before leaving town. One of the many ugly things she’d said in her anger and hurt.

  Her heart squeezed as her finger hovered over the email. Nothing could be worse than Dad’s.

  Hi sweetheart. I hope you’re doing well and finding the answers you need. Your dad told me he sent you an email about why I was at Aunt Cindy’s that summer. I know how much he wanted to talk to you instead, but it seems reception is pretty poor out there. I know you don’t want to talk to me, so I’m going to tell you what happened that summer, and you can call me if you want to talk about it. Anytime, night or day.

  Mikayla shook her head. If you all keep dropping bombshells on me through email, I’m changing my address.

  After your father told me about his affair, I took Maggie and went to Cindy and Jim’s. I was devastated but also feeling guilty. Your dad knew how much I wanted a house, so he took on a second job. I was so wrapped up in caring for a baby and setting up our home, your father came in a distant 3rd for my attention. That wasn’t at all fair to him.

  At the resort, I was usually outside with Maggie, so I got to know Kenny because he was so friendly. We talked a lot about life, relationships, jobs. Eventually I told him why I was there. He gave me some good advice, believe it or not, and encouraged me to go back and work on my marriage. He’d never been married because he moved around a lot, but he’d always wanted a family, so he was serious about me going back to your dad.

  Kenny talked her into saving her marriage? Kenny who then got her pregnant? Her family was a virtual soap opera.

  I don’t know what all you’ve learned about him on your search, but the Kenny I knew was funny, thoughtful, and hard working. I listened to his advice and decided I’d go home and do everything I could to make my marriage work. From the letters your father sent that summer, I knew he would too.

  The night before I left, the resort had a big end-of-summer party. Unfortunately, I didn’t eat much all day because I was helping with set up, and then I enjoyed too much wine, as did Kenny. To this day I don’t remember most of the evening, especially after I got back to my room. Kenny had been very kind, but he was also pretty drunk.

  What I do know is that he didn’t take advantage of me. We were mortified to wake up together in the morning. I headed straight home. I should have told your father right away, but I was too embarrassed. That was my second mistake.

  Mikayla dropped her head against the wall and thumped gently. Great tactic. Ignore it and it will go away. We’ve seen how well that works.

  Honey, your father was over the moon when you were born. Then, as we were packing to move to the Cities for his new job, we were offered another child we named Lindy. It was overwhelming to have a toddler and two new babies, but we felt so blessed. You and Lindy instantly took to each other. We decided we’d tell you when you were a little older. I see now what a mess that decision has created.

  I’m so very sorry, sweetheart, for turning your life upside-down. Please don’t let this ruin your relationships with your sisters. Now is when you need each other most. I’m counting the days until you come home for the wedding. I love you with my whole heart. Mom

  Mikayla stared at the email, the letters blurring. The explosion of emotions she’d expected at finally hearing her mother’s explanation didn’t happen. It was far less offensive than the story she’d created in her head, especially since her version had her father as the wronged party. Now she had two sides, but she’d never get the third if she couldn’t locate Kenny. Would he remember it the same way?

  She closed the laptop, shut off the light and slid under the covers, Lula snuggled close. “It’s time to see if Old Joe is back, Lu,” she said. “Time to solve this mystery and put it behind me for good.” Old Joe had to know where Kenny was. She was running out of time.

  “Maybe when I wake up tomorrow,” she added as her eyes closed, “this will all have been a dream.” Except for Dawson. He needed to be real.

  With the Founder’s Day Celebration on Saturday, no camps were scheduled for the week, which freed Mikayla to head to Tabernash Monday afternoon. Lula stood beside her with bright-eyed anticipation. Old Joe had to be home by now.

  Pulling to a stop on the dirt driveway, she smiled at the older man relaxed on a bench near the front door, a gray braid hanging over his thin shoulder. He watched her climb out of the jeep and approach, nodding a greeting as she got closer. “Afternoon.”

  “Hello. I’m Mikayla Gordon. Are you Joe?”

  “Yep.”

  Mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed with difficulty. “I’m looking for Kenny Johnson, and someone at the resort in Winter Park thought you might know him.”

  He returned his attention to whittling the block of wood in his gnarled hands. “Kenny Johnson.”

  Mikayla waited, glancing back toward the jeep, where Lula waited in the front seat. If Old Joe didn’t like dogs, the animated pixie wouldn’t help Mikayla get information out of him. “I stopped by about a month ago and heard from your neighbor Pete that you were recuperating at your daughter’s. I’m glad to see you’re home now.”

  His head bobbed as he whittled. “Not my time to go.” Rheumy blue eyes glanced at her from beneath a black knit cap. “Haven’t heard the name Kenny Johnson in a long time. What would a young lady like you want with him?”

  Hope fizzled. Maybe he didn’t know where Kenny was. She explained her tie to the magazine. “I’m hoping you can get us connected so I can set up an interview with him. I have to head back to Minnesota soon, and I hope I can talk with him before then.”

  “Huh.” He set the knife and wood aside and pushed slowly to his feet. “Just made some coffee. I’ll get us both a cup.”

  Before she could reply, he swung open the flimsy screen door and went into the tiny cabin. When it slammed shut, she flinched, waiting for it to fall off the house. When it didn’t, she breathed slowly to calm the chaos under her ribs. Joe hadn’t said he didn’t know Kenny, just that he hadn’t heard the name in a while. And he was getting them coffee. Those had to be good signs that answers were within reach.

  He emerged with two blue tin cups and motioned toward the chairs with his head. “Have a seat, young lady. And by the way, I don’ mind if your friend joins us.”

  Mikayla looked back at Lula and smiled when the feathery ears dropped down as if pleading for her to agree.

  “Go on,” Old Joe encouraged. “Haven’t enjoyed a dog in quite some time.”

  Mikayla opened the jeep door and swept her up before the imp could make a dash for the older man. “Behave yourself,” she whispered as they joined him, “or I’ll put you right back.”

  Settling carefully onto a lawn chair, praying the webbing would hold, she kept Lula on her lap and accepted the cup. “Thanks. This is Lula.”

  “Lula. My wife’s name was Lola. She didn’t have those ears, however.”

  Mikayla
laughed at the twinkling look he shot toward the dog. “Thank goodness.”

  Old Joe set a small plate with chocolate chip cookies on the wobbly wooden table between them. “Can Lula have a bite of cookie?”

  “I think she’d like that.” An understatement. Lula ate anything. Keeping a grip on the collar, Mikayla set her down. Lula’s tail swished against the dirt.

  Old Joe broke off a tiny piece of cookie and held it out. Her dainty acceptance drew a chuckle from him. “She’s got some good manners.”

  Mikayla told him how she and Lula had become partners on this winding journey, releasing her grip on Lula’s collar when Old Joe reached for her.

  He nuzzled his gray, scruffy chin against the soft fur, smiling. “It’s a privilege to care for one of God’s creatures,” he said eventually. “Still miss my old Monty. He was a good friend. Took a snake bite meant for me.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Sure was, but it showed how much the old guy loved me.” He cleared his throat and set Lula on the ground. “Haven’t wanted to try replacing him. Ain’t no dog that could live up to that.”

  Mikayla sipped the surprisingly good coffee, tasting hazelnut and nutmeg. “This is delicious, Joe. Thank you.”

  He nodded and they sat quietly, surrounded by peaceful sunlit woods. Finally he looked at her. “So what do you wanna know about Kenny?”

  Everything. “I’ve heard from different people he’s quite the…character.” A nice word. Far less colorful than what she wanted to say.

  “I met Kenny thirty-odd years ago,” he mused. “Skied the circuit together an’ worked jobs around the country in the off-season together too.”

  Anticipation churned. “Did you work with him at Iron Mountain in Michigan?”

  He frowned, scratching his head through the cap. “Hmm. Don’t think so. How long ago was that?”

  “About thirty years.” Give or take nine months.

  “I met him in Jackson Hole, first race of the season. Might’ve been before or after he was in Michigan.”

  Lula scampered after something moving in the underbrush, then trotted back as if she’d done her job.

  “Do you know where I can find him now?”

  His eyes narrowed in the silence. “He died a few months ago. Early February.”

  “He… In February?” The revelation punched the air from her lungs, and she dropped her gaze to the cup she clutched in her lap, blinking rapidly. Of all the scenarios she’d considered, that wasn’t one of them. He couldn’t have stayed alive a few more months so she could have her say? The selfish thought stung.

  “Sorry if that was a bit harsh.” Old Joe released a heavy, wheezy sigh. “I still expect him to come roaring up the mountain on his bike.”

  There were no words, only swelling defeat and anger.

  “You didn’t know him?” Old Joe asked.

  “No.” Nobody gave me the chance. “I thought I could—” What did it matter now? She loosened the clench in her jaw. All this way for nothing. Relationships ruined. For nothing! Why did she ever have to find out about him? “I won’t take any more of your time. Thank you for your help. And for the coffee.”

  With trembling fingers, she set the cup aside, then managed a weak whistle for Lula and stood. “It was nice meeting you,” she said with difficulty. Unable to fully meet his gaze, she turned toward the jeep on wooden legs. Kenny had taken the answers she needed to his grave and robbed her of the opportunity to have her say. Her medical history would remain a question mark, as would that part of her identity.

  A mosaic of emotions bounced in her chest as she followed the rutted dirt road. All this way. Why had she bothered? Had he ever known about her? He wouldn’t have cared. Fear of commitment, Squinty had said. More like an aversion.

  She’d never have the chance to tell him what she thought of him. Never look him in the eye to see his reaction. A tear slid down her cheek. Never know the actual person behind the name she’d detested as soon as she heard it. Perhaps he would have cared if he met her. Probably not.

  She’d never know.

  ~ 29 ~

  After an endless night of broken dreams and restless sleep, Mikayla took her raging headache to Violet’s for a strong cup of coffee, grateful she wasn’t running any camps this week. While she’d had trouble focusing after Dad’s email, now she couldn’t form coherent thoughts.

  Vi’s smile faded when she approached the table where Mikayla and Lula sat. “I’d say you had a wild night, but you don’t strike me as the wild living kind of girl.” She settled her large frame in the opposite chair. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

  The kind inquiry knotted Mikayla’s throat. I will not cry over that man. “I found out yesterday that the guy I’ve been looking for is dead.” She managed a strangled laugh. “Put a lot of miles on my poor old jeep for nothing.”

  “Oh, hon, that’s rotten news.” Vi reached across and squeezed Mikayla’s arm. “Does that mean you’ll be heading back to Minnesota soon?”

  She dropped her gaze. There was still so much to see and experience here, people to spend time with. “I guess it does,” she said. Defeat had a bitter taste.

  “Well, I have something that will make you feel better right now, anyway. And I’ll have Abe bring you a cup of my strongest coffee.”

  She bustled off, and Mikayla swiped a finger under her eyes. There’s no use crying over someone you never knew. In the early morning hours, as she’d watched the sun come up, she’d decided to go back to Old Joe and tell him everything. He was her only source of information about Kenny, so she’d ask questions until she was satisfied.

  Abe ambled out with a steaming, hand-painted mug in such vibrant colors she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Vi’s got some of the wildest cups I’ve ever seen,” he said with a sheepish shrug, setting it before her along with a plate of creamers. “You might need a bunch of these to make the coffee drinkable. It’s Brazilian. The strongest they’ve got down there, or so they told Vi. Definitely the strongest in Winter Park.”

  Mikayla thanked him before he headed back to the shop, then took a tiny, tentative sip. Whew! Abe wasn’t kidding. The bitter liquid scalded her tongue and burned her throat. She emptied three creamers into the mug and stirred until the black brew turned a caramel hue. Mmm. Better.

  Vi brought out a small white box crowded with a scone, an apple turnover, and a chocolate-frosted donut with sprinkles. “Don’t let my granddaughters know I stole one of their donuts. There now, see? I knew one of these would make you smile.”

  “Who doesn’t smile at chocolate and sprinkles? But I don’t want to get you in trouble, so I’ll take the turnover.”

  “You’ll take all of them. The girls won’t miss one donut. What do you think of the coffee?”

  “Strong enough to take the curl out of my hair.”

  Vi slapped her thigh as she laughed. “That’s true! Now, you enjoy the sunshine and share some of these”—she placed three small dog treats on the table—“with our sweet Lula. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

  Mikayla watched her return to the shop, her gauzy, multi-colored blouse fluttering behind in the warm breeze. She released a heavy sigh. What a gift to have gotten to know such a dear person. She wouldn’t get to meet Kenny, but she’d met many wonderful people along the journey.

  She savored the warm turnover and offered bites of the dog treats to Lula, letting the angst of yesterday fade with her headache. When the treats and the turnover were gone, Lula jumped off her chair and stood with her paws on Mikayla’s knee. Mikayla smiled and lifted her for a snuggle. “Fine, Lu. We’ll get going. But I suspect all you care about is getting another cookie from Joe.”

  Carrying the empty cup and plate into the shop, she tried to pay Violet, but the woman crossed her arms and gave a firm shake of her head. With a roll of her eyes, Mikayla started to leave, waiting until Vi turned away, then snuck a ten-dollar bill under the edge of the register and hurried out into the sunshine.


  As she slowed to a stop at Old Joe’s cabin, he glanced up from his whittling and nodded, then focused on the wood. Either he didn’t surprise easily, or he’d expected her to return. She collected the white box and climbed out to follow Lula as she raced toward the old man. The crunch of gravel under her feet echoed in the quiet.

  “Mornin’,” he said, bending over to pet Lula who danced at his knee.

  “Good morning. I came to apologize for the way I left yesterday. That was rude of me.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Didn’t seem like the news you expected to get, so it made sense. I’ll get us some coffee while we talk some more.”

  “None for me, thanks. I just had a cup of Vi’s Brazilian coffee.”

  He threw back his head with a raspy laugh. “Good on ya if you finished it. That’s one strong cup. Should keep you awake for the next three days.”

  “I finished,” she said with a proud smile, “but it took three creamers for my tongue to handle it.” She held out the white box. “And she also provided some pastries, so I brought them for you.”

  “That’s mighty nice of you. I sure love Vi’s baking.” He accepted the box and motioned toward the chair she’d occupied earlier. “Set yourself down while I get a cookie for our waiting friend.”

  Lula whimpered, her tiny rear wiggling where she sat at his feet.

  “Lula,” Mikayla scolded. “That’s rude. No begging.”

  Old Joe retrieved another plate of cookies, then settled onto the bench and took up his whittling project again.

  Mikayla sat quietly, debating how to start.

  “Always good to start at the beginning,” he mused.

  Perceptive old guy. He’d known she’d come back with more questions. Drawing a slow breath, Mikayla plunged into her story from her collapse at the office. He nodded occasionally, lips pursed as he listened. The pressure in her chest lessened as she told the uncensored version for the first time.

 

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