Haley's Mountain Man

by Tracy Madison

  People could’ve been hurt in those couple of days. They weren’t, thank God, but they could’ve been. And if so, that responsibility would’ve rested on Gavin’s shoulders. Fortunately, Russ’s letter had arrived, and those words...the belief Russ had in him, woke him the hell up.

  And he did what was right.

  “I see,” Reid said. “But you did react?”

  “I did. Went to the authorities, gave them the information.” The place was shut down quickly enough. Temporarily at first, while the investigation was going on, and then for good.

  “Well, I suppose that’s something.” Another long, rather intense appraisal before Reid said, “Feel like explaining why you waited? What happened to push you forward when you did?”

  “Not so much, no.” Gavin didn’t elaborate. If Haley asked...he’d try to open up with her, try to tell her everything, but he felt no need to explain himself to her older brother. “You wanted to know if I was a willing participant in something illegal. I wasn’t. That should be enough.”

  “I suppose it should be.”

  “Will have to be,” Gavin said, his voice steady. Inside, he was a jumble of contradictions. Again. Haley’s family was important to her, as they should be. If Reid didn’t approve of Gavin, it might make Haley rethink everything. “I should get back to work now, though.”

  “Understood. Appreciate the time.”

  Gavin watched Reid make his way toward the front of the store, sure as he could be that this conversation would be repeated to Haley verbatim sometime soon. Possibly raising all of those doubts he kept waiting for her to have.

  Well, then, he’d just prepare himself for that scenario. If he could.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Wow. Just wow. Haley sat across from Gavin at the Beanery and stared, unable to take in the changes to his appearance. She’d thought him handsome with the beard, with the almost-but-not-quite-long hair, but she had to admit his clean-shaven, strong-angled-jaw, shorter-hair look raised that assessment several notches. He was drop-dead gorgeous.

  They’d met out front about thirty minutes ago, and after her fairly vocal response to his new look, they’d gotten their coffees. Since then, she’d tried to stop staring and focus on the conversation, on identifying the strange energy she felt emanating from Gavin. So far, no luck in those areas. She was also working toward the discussion they needed to have, about her family, the dinner and how she’d broached the idea of a partnership with them.

  None of which she particularly wanted to talk about. At least, not until she understood the tension, distance, hovering between them. She hated the distance most of all.

  “Everything okay with you today?” she asked for the third time. “You seem quiet.”

  “Yup. Just feeling quiet, I guess.” He swallowed a long gulp of his coffee. Then, apparently deciding to divert her attention, he said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you about your favorite Christmas memory. Keep forgetting, but I’d like to know.”

  “Sure.” She’d play along. Perhaps, once they’d chatted for a while, the mood would lighten and she’d find her feet. “I’d have to say my favorite Christmas memory is the Christmas Eve I was ten. I’d been sick all day with a cold, my parents had been gone most of the day at the restaurant. Reid was there, took care of me, kept me occupied the best he could.”

  “Sounds as if Reid was more like another parent to you,” Gavin said, an odd note to his voice she couldn’t name. “Rather than just an older brother.”

  “Oh, he was. Is. But on this day, I was miserable, and I didn’t want him. I wanted my mother. And oh, did I whine.” Haley laughed, thinking back. “Sick kids tend to want their mothers, as I’m sure you remember—” Crap. “I’m so sorry. So sorry I said that.”

  “It’s okay, Haley.” She didn’t believe him. Not with the stilted, stiff way he spoke. Not with the shield that had just slammed over his expression. “Go on. Tell me about the memory.”

  “Um, right. Well, Reid let me fall asleep on the couch that evening, so I could see my parents as soon as they walked in.” Now, she just wanted to get the rest of the telling out as quickly as possible. Wanted to mitigate whatever hurt she’d caused. “And when I opened my eyes, they were standing there, and my father was holding mistletoe over my mom’s head, and they were kissing. I just remember feeling so secure, so...happy they were home.”

  He nodded but didn’t speak. His skin paled a shade. Her heart ached with sadness, again for the boy he’d once been. Again, for the man that boy had become.

  Dammit. Why hadn’t she thought this memory through before sharing it? Gavin’s life hadn’t involved loving parents kissing under the mistletoe. She should’ve made something up, or just told a lame story about receiving a much-wanted gift. Something else. Anything other than a piece of her happy family history.

  She reached over, grasped his hand with hers. What she wouldn’t give to go back in time and alter his past. Give him a new childhood. One filled to the brim with happy memories.

  “Don’t look so sad, Haley,” Gavin said, his voice a rumble of emotion. “It’s good you have such a great family. I’m glad for that, for you. Really. Would be wrong if you couldn’t talk about your family or your memories with me.”

  Even so, the weight of her sadness didn’t ease. She just felt bad. In as bright a voice as she could pull off, she said, “Well, now you know my favorite Christmas memory.”

  “That I do.” As he had in front of the campfire, he rubbed the palm of her hand with his thumb, the warmth of his touch returning some of her balance. “I... Your brother came by the hardware store today. Surprised me. Seems barging in on folks is part of the Foster DNA,” he said with a small laugh. “He...well, I thought you should know, since he’ll probably—”

  “Which brother?” she interjected.

  “Reid.”

  Of course. She should’ve known. “What did he want?”

  Not that it mattered. Not really. But this annoyed her. Hugely. And Reid was going to get a strong piece of her mind the next time she saw him. Maybe a kick in the rear, too.

  “He asked a few questions about my past. Had some concerns he wanted to discuss.”

  “Let me guess,” she said, her aggravation increasing by the second. How dare Reid take it upon himself to approach Gavin? Now the odd energy made sense. As did the distance. “He told you about the family dinner, which I haven’t even had a chance to talk to you about yet. And he likely wanted to know more about your past because of the partnership possibility, and—”

  “Wait,” Gavin said abruptly, with a definite edge to his tone. “What did you just say?”

  Double crap. No. Make that triple crap. “Um, so that isn’t why Reid came to see you?”

  “If so, he didn’t utter a word of any of it.” Dropping her hand, Gavin tapped his fingers against the tabletop in agitation. “I told you I’m not interested in a partnership. Why would you start the ball rolling with your family if you knew this? I don’t—” He swore softly. “You should have, if nothing else, talked with me first. I should have met everyone first.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t plan on broaching any of it, not at all.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “Well, I hadn’t really talked about us. And...basically, it came out that we’re involved.” Inhaling a breath, Haley tried to calm down, to stop talking so fast. “Reid and my father started asking questions about where you lived before moving here, why you moved here, your family, and I didn’t want to answer those questions. It didn’t seem right or fair and—”

  A slight woman with medium brown hair caught Haley’s attention. She hovered to the side of their table, just out of Gavin’s line of vision, but she stared at him with such intensity, such yearning, that Haley lost her train of thought. Her intuition kicked in, hard, and she reached for Gavin
’s hand, wanting to warn him of...something she, again, couldn’t name.

  The woman gave her head a small shake, turned on her heel—as if to leave—and then stopped, turned around again. And approached the table.

  “Gavin,” Haley whispered, clutching his hand. “There’s—”

  “I wasn’t going to say hi, but you’re here...and I have an interview in a few minutes,” Vanessa said, stopping next to the table. “So. I’m saying hi. I hope that’s okay.”

  Gavin’s heart thudded in that too-fast, too-hard beat. He couldn’t seem to breathe for a second. An interview? Certainly that couldn’t mean what first came to mind. She probably just needed some extra cash in order to stick around for so long.

  Didn’t mean she was staying...couldn’t mean that.

  And this, seeing her now without any sort of notice, turned up the volume of his discomfort. His mother hadn’t stopped by the house again, hadn’t phoned. So he supposed he couldn’t blame her for running into him in a public place, but he did. The last thing he needed now was to add her—her hopes, that desperate need written all over her—into the mix.

  “I’m in the middle of something right now,” he said with as little emotion as possible. Not that easy. Not with the conversation he’d had with Reid, or the unpleasant aftertaste the encounter had left him with. Definitely not with the conversation he was currently having with Haley, or with the downward spiral of his thoughts. “So, if you’ll excuse us.”

  Haley darted him a question-filled glance. She leaned across the table, toward his mother, and held out her hand. “I’m Haley,” she said in her typical cheerful manner. Well, not wholly cheerful. He heard the underlying twinge of concern clear enough. “Did you say you have an interview here? I always thought this would be a great place to work. Lola’s fantastic.”

  “I’m Vanessa.” She appeared unsure, ill-at-ease, but she shook Haley’s hand. “Vanessa Daugherty, Gavin’s...mother. And yes, I have an interview with Lola.”

  “Y-you’re Gavin’s mother?” Blinking, she looked at Gavin. “This is your mother?”

  “Yes,” Gavin said, offering no additional details.

  “I am,” Vanessa replied.

  “This is a...surprise. I hadn’t realized you were in town.” Another series of blinks before Haley sat up a little straighter. “How long are you visiting for?”

  “That depends.” With an air of defiance, Vanessa focused her attention on him. He resisted the urge to squirm or look away. “I’m hoping to find a job, Gavin. Assuming I do, I’ve decided to stay in Steamboat Springs permanently. I like the area, and it seems a good place for a fresh start. And...I like knowing I’m close to you. Mileage-wise, if nothing else.”

  Shock hit him first, causing the room’s walls to seemingly close in on him, and he had to fight real hard to stay centered, to keep his disquiet tamped down. A solid dose of nausea kicked in next. All at the news that his mother might stay in Steamboat Springs.

  How in the hell was he supposed to react to such a possibility? Or, for that matter, to Haley’s all-too-visible surprise and disappointment? In him, he knew. She was disappointed in him, and he couldn’t blame her. Not one bit. Probably he should’ve mentioned his mother’s visit. Should’ve tried to talk about this with Haley. Warned her, at least.

  “I suppose if that’s what you want,” he said to his mother, “then that’s what you should do. Doesn’t change my end of this.”

  “I’m aware, and I want a lot more than that,” she said quietly, firmly. “But what I want and what I have the right to expect are two different things, aren’t they?”

  Well, at least they were in accord on that subject. Didn’t help in this moment, though. Didn’t give him even a second of peace. “Good luck, then. With the interview.”

  Why’d he go and wish her luck? He couldn’t care less if she stayed in Steamboat Springs. Could he? No, of course not. The thought was absurd.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice holding that almost-but-not-quite-breaking quality that always tore into him, always made him wish—again—that their relationship wasn’t what it was. “I...hope to see you soon. Please think about it.”

  “I have been. Will keep thinking on it, too. Can’t make you any other promises.”

  She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something else, but didn’t. Just nodded in farewell and walked away from the table. Unfortunately, the damage was done. Unfortunately, he felt zero relief. He couldn’t think, couldn’t process all that had happened today. Especially couldn’t come to terms with the prospect of his mother remaining in the city he’d chosen as his sanctuary, his fresh start. Wasn’t supposed to be hers.

  “Why... That is, how long has your mother been in town?” Haley asked.

  “Weeks,” he said shortly. “She’s been here for weeks.”

  “Weeks? You haven’t said anything. Not even one word.” Disbelief and hurt colored her words. “I didn’t even know you were still in contact with her. What does she want?”

  “She’s sober now. Has been for several years, and she wants to make amends,” he said, battling with his frustration at trying to explain something he didn’t know how to explain. “I haven’t yet decided if I’m interested, which is why I haven’t mentioned any of this to you.”

  Haley closed her eyes for a millisecond. She breathed in, and then out. “Can we talk about this? How do you feel at the possibility of your mother living here?”

  Sinking as he was, Gavin took a moment to level out some, to think about what he wanted to do here. Truth was, he wanted to confide in Haley. Taking that step, though, felt threatening. Dangerous. Risky and illogical, based on the sum knowledge of his experiences. She wouldn’t understand, couldn’t even come close to understanding. How could she?

  Their lives bore zero similarities. She had a close, loving family who had her back. A lifetime of experiences that were, unlike Gavin’s, mostly positive. How could any of this work? How could a relationship between two people with such different views on themselves, on the world itself, have even the slightest shot at being successful? He just didn’t see how.

  “I don’t want to talk about this, Haley,” he said, suddenly exhausted. With everything. This conversation, Haley’s belief, his mother’s hope. Everything. “You won’t understand.”

  Temper—good and hot—bled into her eyes, in the tilt of her chin. “You could give me a chance before making such a statement. No, Gavin, I can’t understand some of this—maybe not a lot of this—the way you can. But I can listen, and support you, and offer an opinion from a different perspective. Those are valuable, as well. And dammit, I just wish you’d try.”

  “I have been trying.” Hell, that was all he seemed to do. Try. And really, where had that gotten him? All of this trying had stripped away the tools he used to manage, to remain steady and focused and...in control. Frustration piled inside, merging with the rest of the mess he had brewing. “You ignore half the stuff I tell you, anyway. The flyers, the camping trip, the partnership idea. I’m not altogether sure that you do listen.”

  “Unfair,” she said in a near sob. And that sob, the fact he had her so close to crying, split his heart into two. Made him feel like a heel. Again brought up all of those realities he kept trying to avoid. “We’ve already discussed the flyers and the camping trip, so unfair to toss those in. You have a point with the other, though, and I wasn’t done explaining. Let me explain.”

  “No need to,” he said. “I heard enough. I understand enough of what happened. And I know your heart is in the right place, but I believe I’ve told you before that I prefer to be prepared.”

  “Right,” she said. “You have, and I did listen. I just... I thought—” She breathed in, looked down at the table. “You’re right. I’ve pushed and pried my way into your life and I’ve ignored many of your wishes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’
t have taken it upon myself to do most of what I’ve done, even if my...heart was in the right place.”

  “I wasn’t angling for an apology,” he said gruffly.

  “Okay, but my apology is sincere.”

  He knew what he needed to do. This woman was important to him, and here she was almost crying because of his inability to give her what she needed, what she deserved. Wasn’t her fault he was who he was. Wasn’t her fault he couldn’t be the person she saw him as.

  Nope. None of this was her fault.

  And if they kept on, he’d end up hurting her again and again, because he couldn’t be the man she deserved. Couldn’t be the type of man her family would want her to be with. Hell, he couldn’t be the type of man he thought she should be with. And that...that left one option.

  Only one.

  The decision settled some of his whipped-up emotions, even if that same decision burned in his chest like a soldering iron. He breathed air deep into his lungs to cool the burn, to settle himself more. Relaxed his muscles one by one until he believed he’d be able to speak with assurance.

  “This isn’t working, Haley. We aren’t working,” he said, speaking as clear and absolute as he knew how. “You’re a remarkable, beautiful woman, but...I’m not the man for you. So I see zero sense in pretending otherwise. But I tried. I really did. I guess...well, I guess I’m just not built for this. But you should know―need to know―that I wish I was.”

  Shock rippled through her body. “You are not doing this to me again.”

  “I’m sorry, Haley. I really am.” And because he couldn’t think through his pain, couldn’t find any other explanation than what he’d already said, he repeated, “I’m not the man for you.”

  “You’re wrong. You are the man for me. And you are built for this. You just can’t see it yet.” Her tears fell then, cascading down her cheeks in a rush. A soft gurgle of pain, disbelief, fell from her throat. “Don’t do this, Gavin.”