by Vivien Vale
Mesmerized by the view, I scream loudly when something heavy lands on my shoulders.
It’s as if someone’s grabbing me roughly and trying to unbalance me.
Quickly, I bring my hand to my mouth to muffle my own scream. I don’t want Amelia to hear.
Amelia?
Had someone broken into the cabin while Boone had gone out? Where was Boone anyway?
My heart is racing so fast in my chest I fear I might pass out any second.
I wait for the threat of a knife on my throat or the attacker to say something, but nothing.
And then slowly, a face appears in front of me. I see two black eyes.
So as not to collapse with my knees having turned to jelly, I reach for something to stabilize myself, and find the edge of the kitchen bench.
“Mommy?” I hear Amelia call out. “Mommy, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, darling,” I call back and turn my head to get a proper look at the creature who frightened the living daylights out of me.
“How did you get in here?” I ask the raccoon sitting on my shoulder.
All it does is twitch its nose.
“What happened, Mommy?”
Without a glass of water, I return to the living room.
“Look what I found,” I say to Amelia and point at my new friend.
I watch her eyes widen and then clap her hands together.
“Can I pat it?”
I shrug and walk back to where she’s sitting.
“I think so.”
As soon as I get near the couch, the raccoon jumps off my shoulder and leaps onto Amelia’s lap.
My daughter squeals with delight and starts patting the little animal who instantly curls up in her lap.
I, on the hand, am still recovering from the shock, and wish I could have a stiff drink.
But there’s one more question that needs answering…where’s Boone?
Chapter 9
Boone
The cabin door slams behind me with a furious whack.
I stand on the porch for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air in an attempt to calm my fucking nerves.
It helps a little, but it’s not a cure to the raging emotions and thoughts coursing through me.
I have to get away from the cabin and the woman encased inside.
I forgot how intoxicating it is being near Margot.
All the sexual attraction I had for her five years ago has returned so fast. Maybe I never lost it in the first place.
Her enchanting eyes, luscious lips, and captivating curves all pull me in.
I had to leave the cabin. If I didn’t, I was going to turn into a lust-crazed caveman and strip her right then and there. There’s a beast inside me that wants nothing more than to claim her body again, just like I did all those years ago.
That sure as hell couldn’t happen with Amelia resting in her arms. Both of them are still recovering from the shock of surviving a rock slide.
I’m the last thing Margot and Amelia need around them right now.
I start walking away from the cabin toward the creek that runs alongside my cabin.
The creek is a place I sometimes go to in order to clear my mind. But when the urge arises…well, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t enjoy doing a little fishing from time to time?
Not a fuckin’ man at all, is what kind.
Right now, I could use the distraction that catching fish brings.
I don’t use a fishing rod though, when fishing. A line and reel doesn’t give the same feeling as using a little true grit and your own hands.
Hand fishing is a lot more difficult than fishing with a rod, but I’ve gotten so damn good at it that it’s a walk in the park.
Once at the creek, I chuck my boots and socks off, then roll my jeans up to my knees, exposing my rippling calves.
I step into the water and feel it rush over my shins, trying to carry me away—but I’m rooted too firmly in place to be moved.
The water is brisk. It feels fucking good on my bare skin.
After a few minutes, I start to see a few fish swimming towards my legs as if I’m just another rock in the water they have to get around, on their journey down the creek.
I focus in on one medium-sized fish and then strike.
An explosion of water splashes around my arm as my hand goes into the water to grab the fish.
Its tail slips through my hands, and it swims quickly out of reach along with the others.
I stand there, waiting for the fish to come closer again.
It’s not about getting it right on the first try.
It’s about perseverance. Focus. Manning up and calibrating your body to adjust to your mistakes.
I repeat the routine: focus, strike, miss, wait, and repeat.
But after five failed attempts, even I can’t help but feel frustrated. Normally, I nail this on the second try.
The issue is that my hand is shaking slightly, enough to throw me off so the fish slips through my hands.
The situation with Margot and Amelia has me more shook up than I would like to ever admit.
If I hadn’t been there, I would have lost Margot.
I would have lost Amelia.
Amelia, the sweet little angel…who is no doubt my daughter. I can see it in her eyes. She’s mine.
With that thought, I suddenly find it hard to breathe.
Jesus. What the hell is going on?
My chest feels like it’s been hit by several large boulders.
It’s hard to wrap my mind around the existence of Amelia.
But the idea of losing her hits me even harder.
All those years ago, I thought I left Margot behind. Really though, I left her and our daughter both.
Today, I could have lost a daughter who I didn’t even know existed.
Anger rises up in me.
How could Margot not have told me?
She should have contacted me when she found out she was pregnant after that one night.
I had a right to know, dammit. Every man has a right to know.
I wouldn’t have stopped her from having Amelia—on the contrary, I could have fucking helped.
With money. The pregnancy. The birth.
Changing fucking diapers and staying up for long, sleepless nights. Whatever she wanted. Anything my girls could have needed.
It pisses me off that she didn’t tell me…but it pisses me off all the more that she felt like she had to do it all alone.
In that way, really, I failed her.
I let loose a growl and then a heavy sigh.
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.
The past can’t be changed, Boone.
But the future…the future is another story.
I’ll make sure I’m a part of Amelia’s life in some way or another.
I have a daughter, a beautiful blonde-haired, dark-eyed daughter.
As I keep repeating that to myself, it becomes more and more real.
I smile a little.
Fate hasn’t just given one piece of my heart back to me today.
It has given me two.
One from the past that never stopped aching…
And another that I didn’t even know I had.
Both beautiful girls mean everything to me. More than anything.
Crockett is definitely a close third.
I chuckle.
I wonder how the coon is going to react to Margot and Amelia. He won’t have much of a say, if I have anything to say about it.
Looking down into the creek, I spot a massive fish that would be perfect for lunch.
My hands are still shaking slightly, but I force them to still.
Margot and Amelia are safe.
Deep breath.
Concentrating, I slice my hands into the water.
I pull them out with the wriggling fish in hand.
Finally!
My victory is short-lived. The air is suddenly ringing w
ith a scream from the cabin.
Margot.
I run toward the cabin in a heartbeat, fish still in hand.
Bursting through the door and prepared to take down whatever threat there is toward Margot and Amelia, I halt at the sight in front of me.
Margot is leaning against a wall next to Amelia. Completely calm as if she never screamed.
Amelia is on the floor. Sitting in her tiny lap is Crockett’s fat behind. You can hardly see Amelia’s legs under him.
“I see you’ve met Crockett,” I say to Amelia.
“That’s one way to put it,” Margot snorts. “The little shit jumped on my back, scaring the hell out of me. As soon as I got him off me, he crawled over to Amelia’s lap like nothing happened at all.”
“You’re a stranger lurking around in his house,” I chuckle. “Probably thought he was on guard dog duty.”
“Very funny,” she responds. “He didn’t do that great of a job though.”
She nods her head down to Amelia.
“Why do you have a raccoon for a pet, anyway?” she asks.
“I found him when I first moved here. He was a baby then. No bigger than my hand.” My eyes glance toward Amelia, who is hanging on to every word. “Looked like he’d been attacked. So, I nursed him back to health. Once he was all better, I couldn’t get rid of him.”
The guy wouldn’t have lasted out back in the wild, anyway. He had stayed with me for too long.
He’s the only real company I’ve had here at the cabin.
Plus, he’s a lazy little shit. Keeps stealing food from the pantry and getting fat.
The fish I’m still holding in my hand suddenly wriggles frantically.
I walk to the kitchen.
There I lay it on a cutting board and take a knife to drive it through its head and kill it instantly.
I wash my hands and grab a treat for Crockett, then head back into the living room. Couching down to Amelia’s level, I hold out the treat for her.
“You want to give Crockett a treat for being such a nice boy for you?” I ask her.
She nods her head and grabs the treat.
“He isn’t going to bite her hand off in the process of her giving that to him, is he?” Margot asks with a worried tone.
“No,” I reassure her. “I taught him early on to be gentle when he takes anything from people.”
Amelia gives Crockett the treat and giggles.
It’s a sweet melody only a small child could give—a sound of innocent delight.
“Crockett’s pretty fat,” Margot quips. “How much does he eat?”
“He eats a lot. But it’s either give him food regularly or come home to find trash strewn all over the place ‘cause he goes looking for food there.”
“Makes sense,” she responds.
I grunt in agreement.
“I’m going to make lunch for us. Fish okay?”
“Yeah. Do you need any help?” Margot offers.
“Sure. You can come out with me. Amelia will be fine with Crockett. The back door will stay open so we can listen if she needs you.”
I grab the fish and head out back with Margot.
Time to get some answers out of her, while she is away from Amelia.
Chapter 10
Margot
I wish I could cuddle with Amelia right now.
Whenever I’ve had a long day, or been through a lot of stress, she’s my rock. I hold her tightly in my arms, and we sit on the sofa watching her favorite television shows or her favorite Disney movies. The sound of her laugh calms me down. Eventually, we fall asleep together, and it’s the most peaceful sleep I could ever get.
But she’s busy.
I watch her as she plays with Crockett. I had always just assumed that racoons were little feral creatures, rummaging around in the trash and eating whatever they could find. But Crockett seems to act just like a little dog, or a puppy.
Amelia’s always loved animals, and clearly, he adores her as much as she loves him already. Part of me is glad that Boone isn’t completely alone out here.
A cabin this far from the city, or even the town, is a beautiful place for a retreat. But to live out here—in the middle of nowhere—permanently, sounds very isolating.
I can’t tell if Boone is happy for our company or resents our intrusion into his loneliness.
Now that I’m sure Amelia is safe and taken care of, I go to the bathroom to freshen up. After that, I’ll go look for Boone—he went back outside, probably to prepare the fish that he’d caught and offered to serve to us for lunch.
He might not be happy for the company, but I’m drawn to him.
I can feel every nerve in my body longing to be closer, my muscles all want to reach out and narrow the distance between us. I’m not totally certain how much longer I can resist my primal instincts.
I can still remember the last time Boone and I were together.
The raw emotion, desire, romance…
Now he’s standing right in front of me again, and who could blame me for wanting all that again?
My father, probably. Boone’s father—definitely.
But even though I want it, Boone might not. Or even more likely, it wouldn’t be the best thing for Amelia. Her life has been uncomplicated so far—I haven’t been with another man since Boone, so she’s never had to adjust to having strange men come and go from our house. To spring that on her now and to reveal that this man is her father…
No four year old should have to understand something that huge.
I turn the corner to find Boone in the kitchen with his back to me.
He stands over the counter, descaling the fish he’d caught earlier. His camouflage shirt hangs over the back of a chair, drying in the sunlight after standing in the river earlier. Boone’s skin still glistens slightly as the last drops of river water cling determinedly to the hairs on his arms and over his shoulders.
The muscles of his back shift and move each time he rakes the shimmering steel fillet knife across the body of the fish. I cast one last glance back to Amelia and Crockett—who are as thick as thieves, clearly—before I walk into his field of vision.
Boone looks up at me. His dark eyes pierce mine, but he says nothing. I feel the lingering gaze as it draws over my body. Every time he looks at me like that, I feel as though I’m standing in front of him naked and totally exposed.
It’s an exhilarating, and yet terrifying prospect.
I used to be able to trust Boone with everything. Seeing him again reminds me of how much I’ve missed having that connection with another person. But I hurt him all those years ago, and things are different now.
I wonder if he’ll ever give me that second chance.
“Thank you so much, for taking care of Amelia, Boone.” I say finally. “Where’d you learn to do a splint like that?”
Boone nods slightly and is quiet for a moment. He always liked to think before he spoke—and he only ever spoke when he had to.
“It’s just a skill I picked up,” he mumbles eventually. “Looks like you’ve finally gotten into photography.”
Of course, Boone places the focus of the conversation back to me, asking me questions that will make me open up. He’s always been the kind of man who cared about others over himself. But I know that he’ll open up in time, if we stay here long enough.
With the rock slide still blocking the road, it’s likely that we would be.
“Yeah, I had heard rumors that there was some stunning natural beauty to be found out here, and I wanted to see for myself,” I explain.
Boone nods again—of course he knows that there’s beauty out here.
He gets to live here all year round.
“How long have you been making art?”
It’s not an unusual question, but it takes me by surprise. I’ve been pursuing photography since college. But I can’t mention college without having to explain everything. If I do that, I run the risk of breaking Boone’s heart all over again.
“I dropped out of college to pursue it. Not long after I transferred,” I say gently, moving around him.
Boone seems unshaken by the mention of our college years.
“It was hard at first, but I’ve got a little gallery in the city. Even if I didn’t make any money, I’d still be happy with it.”
He continues preparing the fish—delicately taking the time to debone the fillets. I’m amazed that such large, strong hands can do such precise work without tearing up the fillet. But you can see that Boone really cares about what he is doing, and that he puts a lot of effort into his food.
“It would be difficult to support a daughter with no money,” Boone says quietly, and I feel my heart leap.
Every time he mentions Amelia, I’m set back on edge.
“Can you pass me lemons from the fridge?”
I do as he asks. He pulls out a cast iron pan from the cupboards and picks some fresh rosemary from the herb garden on the windowsill. I hand Boone the lemons, and, as our fingers brush, I smell the fresh scent of the herb on my skin.
“What about you? How was Wall Street?”
Boone grunts. I never expected him to enjoy working in an office, wearing a three-piece suit and tie every day (though it did suit him.) Out here in the woods, that’s where I would have pictured him being most comfortable, but, back in college, he still wanted to impress his dad.
“Did you continue volunteering with the fire department?”
Boone pauses for a moment, before grunting in affirmation and nodding his head. I’m relieved—I know how much the brotherhood of the fire department meant to him, and so the fact that he kept that after college is reassuring.
I wonder for a moment, however, what’s changed now. There seems to be no need for a fire department in the wilderness. I know Boone would never have given up being a firefighter and saving people’s lives, unless he felt like he had no other choice but to go.
I want to ask him about it, but then he speaks.
“Does Amelia have allergies?” he asks, turning on the stove and silently cooking.
If I had been honest from the start, and Boone had been there from her birth, he would know that she didn’t. But I can sense what he’s doing—he’s trying to get to know her, like a real father would.
“No, she’ll eat anything you put in front of her.”