Haley's Mountain Man

by Tracy Madison

Five...ten...twenty minutes passed before the telltale new-message “click” went off. Twenty excruciating minutes filled with absolute certainty that he should’ve kept his mouth shut and not shared what he’d just shared. No way would she understand.

  He almost ignored the message. Hell, she’d have no clue when he’d check his email again. But he couldn’t do it; he had to know if she’d gotten the point of what he’d tried so hard to say. Why he cared so much, he didn’t know. If she didn’t understand, the lack wouldn’t be any fault of hers. It would be a mix of her own upbringing and his inability to convey a moment he’d never before attempted to put into words.

  Also, though, he didn’t want her pity. Didn’t want anyone’s pity, really, but most especially not hers. Nervous, Gavin double-clicked on the message. Swallowed hard, and read:

  Thank you, Gavin, for trusting me enough to share this. I feel honored to know this about you, your life. But, wow, I’m so glad you had Russ and Elaine. So very happy you have this memory.

  —Haley

  P.S. Curious: What are your favorite pizza toppings?

  Gavin read the message no less than four times before a swell of...well, he didn’t exactly know what to call this particular emotion...overtook him. Whatever it was, it felt good, he knew that. He’d told someone something about his past, something real, and that someone—Haley—had understood. In his mind, that was pretty darn incredible.

  His eyes fell on the P.S. she’d written, and he grinned. Pizza toppings, huh? This time, he didn’t have to worry about what words to use or what order to put them in. This was the simplest question yet.

  Easier to say what I don’t like: anchovies. Anything else is good with me. And you’re welcome. About the sharing.

  With that, he hit Send and returned to the kitchen to sand the walls. A task he’d ignored for too long in favor of a handful of outdoor projects, and since he had longer-than-normal shifts at the hardware store tomorrow and Sunday, he wouldn’t have time again until next week.

  A solid hour of hard work passed, but Gavin barely noticed. His thoughts were too focused on Haley, her possible motives, how she might be spending her evening and a dozen other details that shouldn’t be taking up so much of his brain space.

  She was still there, deeply embedded in his head, when the phone rang, and he had a split second where he was positive she was on the other end of the line.

  If he’d been in his normal state of mind, he would’ve looked at the caller ID. Would’ve read the “Unknown Name/Unknown Number” flag and would’ve known, without a doubt, that the person calling him wasn’t Haley Foster. But he wasn’t in his normal state of mind, and he didn’t look, so when he answered, he was about as floored as a man could be.

  “Gavin,” the woman said, her voice cracking with emotion. Feigned, he was sure. Still, the familiarity of her voice and the emotion that voice held got to him. Annoying, that. She shouldn’t get to him. Not anymore. “Don’t hang up, please. I’d like the chance to talk with you, and you never seem to be around when I call. Or you don’t answer.”

  Jerking the phone down, he read the caller ID and grimaced. Someone had apparently taught his mother how to hide her phone number. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, but—”

  “Did you get the check I sent last week?”

  “Yes, thank you, but that isn’t why—”

  “You’re only supposed to use this number in case of an emergency. That was what we agreed on,” he reminded her. “Is there an emergency?”

  “Gavin, if you could just listen to me,” she said, pleaded. “That’s all I want.”

  “Is there an emergency?” he repeated, already knowing the answer but needing to hear his mother’s verification before disconnecting the call.

  “No, there isn’t an emergency.” And dammit, there was that break in her voice, the break that typically signified that the waterworks were about to begin. “Five minutes, that’s all I ask.”

  All she wanted, all she asked. Always, for as far back as he could remember, everything was about her. Well, not now. Not today. Not for a long time. “You ask too much.”

  He hung up and powered down the phone before she could say anything else or put on a show of crying. Tried to ignore the guilt he felt and failed. Considered throwing the phone against the wall, but managed to restrain the impulse.

  For most of his childhood, he’d listened to and believed Vanessa Daugherty’s justifications, of which she had many. A good portion of his teenage years were spent going against his common sense and choosing to believe in her, her excuses, her promises. It had taken him decades to learn that his mother, as much as he wished otherwise, was incapable of change.

  It had taken him decades to understand that the only way to protect himself was to stop listening, stop believing, and to keep her as far out of his life as possible. But every time he heard his mother’s voice, something inside railed against this decision, pushed at him to lower his shields, to listen and give her a chance. Just one more chance.

  And the idea of that scared him. Angered him. How many chances did one person deserve? He supposed the number differed from person to person, from situation to situation, but in Vanessa Daugherty’s case, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—open that door again.

  Not when she had repeatedly slammed that very same door in his face, despite the many chances he’d given her. Despite how much he loved her. Despite...everything.

  Gavin replaced the dust mask over his mouth, picked up the sander and got back to work. Unfortunately, his thoughts this go-around weren’t as pleasant or hopeful. All he kept thinking, all that went through his head, was the simple truth: except for the years with the Demkos, life had taught him that he did better on his own.

  A lesson he shouldn’t allow himself to forget.

  * * *

  Probably, Haley thought with a grain of concern, she should have warned Gavin why she’d asked about his favorite pizza toppings, but she hadn’t wanted to give him the opportunity to shoot her down. So, here she was, driving toward his house, again uninvited, with an extra-large, every-topping-under-the-sun-except-for-anchovies pizza in tow. Along with a couple of sodas, a bag of chips and two huge pieces of chocolate cake she’d snagged from the restaurant.

  Another impulsive gesture, yes, but she’d had the itch to see him for... Well, ever since she last saw him. She’d ignored the compulsion just fine until tonight, when she’d learned that he’d mostly been raised in the foster care system, that his favorite Christmas memory was, in fact, his first ever happy Christmas memory—and he’d been twelve, for goodness’s sake. Her heart had returned to its melted-pile-of-goo state, and she’d had to see him.

  It wasn’t a question, or even a want. It was necessary that she saw him.

  Hopefully, this meal would prove less challenging than their last. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to use every tool in her arsenal in order to stay. Mostly, she believed he’d be happy to see her. Lots had changed in the time they’d been emailing. He was communicating, for one. Each and every email he responded to made her want to jump up and down and cheer. For another, each of his responses had grown slightly wordier, which to her meant he was becoming comfortable with the idea of her. Maybe even with the idea of them.

  And friendship, regardless of what she thought might eventually exist between them, was a solid foundation on which to begin. Yes, she was pleased with their progression. Hopeful.

  She’d barely pulled into Gavin’s long, skinny driveway when her cell phone rang. One glance told her who the caller was—Suzette—and that was enough to bring Matt the teacher and the blind date she’d agreed to back into her memory. Oh, no. She had no desire to spend an evening with another man who wasn’t Gavin Daugherty.

  Well, she’d just tell Suzette the truth.

  “Hey,” she said into the phone as she put her
car in Park. “I’m guessing you’re finally calling about this date, and the thing is, I’m not really comfortable with the idea. So—”

  “No way, Haley,” Suzette interrupted. “You agreed. And I’ve spoken with Matt and well...it took some convincing, but everything’s all set for tomorrow.”

  “Unset it. I’m not interested.” Okay, that came out a little too abrupt. “I’m sorry, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m sure he’ll understand, since you had to ‘convince’ him to agree.”

  “You’re not really going to do this to me, are you? I have to work with this guy...and see, things have finally gotten comfortable between us again.”

  Haley’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean things have finally gotten comfortable? What aren’t you telling me?” When her friend didn’t instantly respond, she said, “Spill it.”

  “Okay, okay.” A long, drawn-out sigh. “We flirted for a few months. But we went out and nothing clicked. The chemistry wasn’t there. I mean, it was for him. Just not for me.”

  “Ah, I see. So now, you’re concerned that if I’m a no-show, your work relationship will be uncomfortable again?”

  “Yes, but also...please, Haley?”

  “I don’t know.” She would rather do almost anything else other than this, but Suzette was her friend. And tricked or not, she had agreed. “This has disaster written all over it.”

  “Not necessarily, and I’ll owe you. One favor, anytime, for any reason, no questions asked. Please?” Suzette wheedled. “Pretty please?”

  Haley closed her eyes, swore quietly. “If—and I mean if—I go, you have to understand that there will not be a second date. I’ve met someone else.” She looked in the direction of Gavin’s house. He was in there, and she was out here. Stuck. “Don’t ask who he is, either.”

  Dead silence. For a good thirty seconds.

  “You win,” Suzette said. “I won’t even beg you for more information.”

  And because she didn’t, Haley fully grasped how important this date was to her friend. Which meant she had to go...but not without stipulations.

  “Dinner only,” she said. “No movie. No stopping for drinks afterward. I don’t want to take a walk or play a game of pool. Dinner. That’s all I’ll agree to.”

  “Fine,” Suzette said after another loud sigh. “Dinner only.”

  “Then we have a deal. Where and when? I’ll drive myself.”

  Suzette begrudgingly gave her the details. Then, “So...ah, what does this mystery man of yours look like? You have to give me something here.”

  “Um. He has eyes and a nose and a mouth. Two legs. Hair. If I recall correctly, he also has two arms. Hands, with five fingers on each. Oh, and I’m assuming—”

  “You’re a snot,” Suzette said with a laugh. “This will drive me crazy.”

  “I’ll tell you who he is...eventually.” Haley grinned. “But now I have to go.”

  They disconnected and Haley took a second to gather her bearings. Ugh. Matt the teacher was probably a very nice man. But nice or not, he wasn’t Gavin. Who, Haley reminded herself, was just up the driveway a bit, and if he wasn’t too surprised by her visit, tonight might become another turning point. So what in the world was she doing sitting here in her car?

  With that, she balanced the pizza, slid her wrist in the straps of her purse and the handle of the to-go bag, and stepped outside. The heady concoction of anticipation, exhilaration and nervousness tingling through her body made it seem as if she were floating, rather than merely walking. Flying instead of putting one foot in front of the other on a dusty dirt driveway.

  By the time she made it to his front door, the nervousness had taken center stage. She once again considered if this, showing up unexpectedly twice, was really her smartest move. But hell, she was already here, and she rarely second-guessed herself. So again, why start now?

  She mentally gave herself a good shake, sucked in one breath to steady herself and—before her doubts could expand—used her elbow to press the doorbell. Breathed again. Hoped and prayed that this wasn’t one of those oddball instances where her instincts would prove to be way off base. And waited.

  Chapter Six

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait overly long. Gavin opened the door a scant minute or two later, with surprise and...well, an edge of defense, perhaps. He had that closed-down, shielded-to-the-world facade securely in place, easily identifiable. To her, at least.

  She smiled brightly, took in the fine layer of white dust that powdered his brown-but-not-brown hair, black T-shirt and well-fitted jeans, and decided he looked very much like a man who’d been caught in a snowstorm. Sexy, though. Even with the dust. Even with the defensive attitude and shielded eyes. Tall and strong and capable.

  Just the sight of him ignited the low, slow burn she was becoming so familiar with.

  “You’re either in the middle of baking and had an altercation with a bag of flour, or,” Haley said, attempting to sound lighthearted, “you’re in the process of sanding walls.” The latter, she was sure, based on how the kitchen had looked when she’d been here for lunch.

  “Sanding,” Gavin confirmed in a short, clipped manner. “I don’t know how to bake.”

  The bag weighed heavily against Haley’s wrist, the strap biting mercilessly into her skin. The pizza box held enough warmth that the heat had started to become uncomfortable. These physical distresses, her very real nervousness and her body’s response to Gavin, along with the abrupt, somewhat cool way in which he’d spoken, all seemed to state that she should’ve stuck with the safety of emails. Too late now.

  “I brought pizza,” she said hurriedly. “And drinks, dessert. For dinner.”

  He regarded her steadily, his surprise at finding her on his porch still apparent. Eyes narrowed, he tugged at the dust mask hanging around his neck. “Dinner? You brought dinner?”

  Her stomach plummeted to her toes. He didn’t sound or look pleased. Or happy. Or anything she could describe as positive. Darn it. Why had she done this?

  “Yes, dinner.” She blinked, forced another smile. “The meal that is typically the last of the day. Well, unless you count dessert, but that isn’t really—”

  “I am familiar with the concept of dinner,” he said. “I’m more confused about why you’re here. Did we have plans I forgot about, or...?”

  “That would be a no. But, um, I don’t have to stay! Just wanted to help out, since I thought you might be working on the house. Might be too busy to think of dinner.” She searched for, and found, a hint of her normal courage. “Friends do this, Gavin. Promise.”

  “Friends bring surprise pizzas?” He reached for the box and the bag, retrieving both before she’d realized she’d passed them over. “Thanks. It was kind of you to go to the trouble.”

  “Wasn’t any trouble, and you’re welcome.” Nope, there wasn’t one thing to say to save this moment. Other than, “I’m sorry I didn’t call first. I should have called.”

  “Wouldn’t have done you any good. I... Phone’s off right now.”

  “Well, I could’ve mentioned stopping by in that last email.”

  “Yup, you could’ve done that,” he agreed. “I guess, though, there’s no harm done, and I could use a break. Those walls are a pain in the as―behind.”

  “Breaks are good! Enjoy dinner, and—” What was wrong with her? She straightened her spine, strengthened her smile. Haley Foster did not do meek. “It’s an extra-large pizza. I could stay, eat with you. Friends do that, as well. Share meals. In case you were wondering.”

  Again, he regarded her in that unflinching custom of his, and it was all she could do not to rescind her words. Her muscles tensed as she waited for his reply, and while she hoped he’d invite her in, she feared he wouldn’t. Feared she’d taken another misstep.

  “I suppose friends do share m
eals,” he said after a long, drawn-out, excruciating pause. “And if you’d like to stay, I won’t say no.”

  “You can, though. I’ll listen this time.” Boy, would she ever. “No hard feelings, either.”

  “If I wanted to say no, I would’ve said no.” Was that a grin? Maybe. He stepped to the side, giving her room to enter. “This was real nice of you, and I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

  “More selfish than thoughtful,” she said honestly, walking past him. “I wanted to see you. Wanted to spend time with you. So I bought a pizza and here I am.”

  This, her statement, stopped him dead in his tracks. Pivoting, he squinted at her as if she were a bug he was trying to identify. His jaw hardened, for just a second, really, and he shook his head. Confusion glittered in his eyes, but maybe a small amount of amusement existed there, as well. Pleasure, perhaps. And if so, those were good reactions.

  “Still haven’t quite decided what to make of you,” he admitted, his voice rough but not disbelieving. Also a positive. “Other than you haven’t stopped surprising me yet.”

  She’d have liked more. Would have liked to hear him say that he’d wanted to see her, spend time with her, too. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, to just put the question out there, but she decided against doing so. Later, maybe, but not now. He seemed...subdued, as if a great weight rested on his shoulders. A weight he was tired of carrying around.

  In the next second, she decided she was being ridiculous. Of course he was tired. Manual labor tended to tire a person, even a physically strong man like Gavin.

  Clearing her thoughts, her out-of-the-ballpark concerns, she grinned. “I hope you don’t mind the surprises, because I can’t promise you they’ll stop anytime soon.”

  “I don’t hate them. Which is another surprise.” Another deep, intent once-over before he walked to the beat-up coffee table on the opposite side of the room and deposited the pizza and to-go bag. Gesturing toward the equally beat-up couch, he said, “We’ll eat out here. The kitchen is a wreck. I’ll be right back with some glasses, plates. Just...ah...make yourself at home.”