MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN

by Christine Rimmer

  "Damn it, Dad…"

  "C'mon boy, what's done is done. And maybe it'll turn out just fine in the end anyway. In any case, you'll know your old man's gettin' a little time to himself in his wanin' years."

  Hearing his father put it that way, Jared felt all the fight go out of him. Hell, the old man was right. Oggie had needed someone to work with him. He'd said so more than once. Jared had never been quite willing to provide that help. And then Eden Parker had come along.

  The simple fact was, Jared had returned too late.

  Slowly Jared sank to the ground in the space his father had left and leaned his back against the old tree. He closed his eyes. For a few minutes, there was only the sighing of the wind in the pines and the soft rush of the river flowing past.

  Then Oggie asked, "What's happened, son?"

  Jared didn't even open his eyes. "The company's shutting down. I've been laid off. I'm through running logging crews. The damn spotted owls are getting their revenge."

  Oggie heard his father huffing as he sank beside him. "Hell, son. Tough break."

  "Yeah."

  "So what'll you do?"

  "I'll get by."

  "You bet you will."

  "And besides…"

  "Yeah, son?"

  Jared picked up a flat rock and skipped it across the river. "Well, just lately I've been thinking it's time I got over what happened with Belle. Time I stopped hiding out and feeling sorry for myself."

  Oggie lit up like a light bulb. "Are you sayin' what I hope you're sayin'?"

  Jared looked at his father sideways. "What's that?"

  "That you're ready to try again at findin' the right woman for you?"

  Jared stood up. "Stop it, old man. Stop it before you even get started. Two out of four of your kids are happily married. Be satisfied with that. I'm back because I think it's time I learned to get along with people, in general. But I'm through with women. And that means love and marriage and all that bunk. I'm just no good at that stuff, and that's a proven fact."

  "You worked things out with Sally in the end, didn't you?"

  "Yeah. I did. But we had a damn rough time doing it."

  "But the point is, you did do it."

  "Look, Dad. Let's drop this subject, okay?"

  "I'm only saying that you've married two women and you did okay with one of 'em, when all was said and done. In this day and age, one out of two ain't half-bad. And, if you ask me—"

  "I'm not asking you, Dad."

  "Don't interrupt. If you ask me, the problem with Belle was that you jumped right to the wedding, without stopping to, um, smell the flowers first."

  "Dad. Drop it."

  "No, it's time you thought about this. Maybe part of your problem is you always thought you should be married to a woman before you—"

  Jared picked up his father's tackle box and the wicker basket in which the old man's catch was stored and started for the trail to the road.

  Oggie, grabbing up his pole, hustled after him. "Wait up. And I don't see why we can't talk about this. I'm only sayin' that if you'd a slept with Belle first, you might have found out—"

  Jared turned on his father. "Did you sleep with Ma before you married her?"

  Oggie's beady black eyes went wide. He stopped on the trail. "What's got into you son, askin' questions like that about your sainted mother?"

  "Just giving you a taste of what it feels like to have another man pry into your private life."

  "All right, all right." Oggie puffed on his cigar and waved at Jared to move on up the trail. They walked the rest of the way to the Cadillac without speaking.

  Then Oggie went to the trunk and opened it. "You're home to stay, then?"

  Jared tossed the tackle box and the basket of fish into the trunk. "I thought so. But I also thought I'd go in with you at the bar. Now, I don't know. Maybe I'll head down to Sacramento, see if I can find something there."

  Oggie took his pole apart and tucked the two sections in next to the tackle box. "The hell you will. You'll stay right here." He closed the trunk. "You'll take over your half of The Hole in the Wall now. I got my nest egg put aside. I'm more than ready to retire."

  Jared shook his head. "Thanks. Dad. But it would never work."

  "Why not?"

  "You've got a partner. You don't need me."

  "Hell yes, I need you. I'm seventy-five. I need all the help I can get. You got a problem with Eden, is that what we're talkin' about here?"

  "No," Jared muttered. "She's fine. I've got no problem with her." He leaned against the dusty back door of the Cadillac and looked away toward the trail they'd just come up.

  "Good," Oggie said. "'Cause truth to tell, son, I got a soft spot for Eden. That sweet little gal kinda reminds me of your mother."

  Jared's head snapped around. "My God, Dad. What are you talking about? She's nothing like Ma. Ma didn't have orange hair."

  Oggie actually looked kind of dreamy. "That hair of hers is strawberry-blond, boy. Strawberry-blond. And I was talkin' more about her smile, that wide, sweet mouth she's got. And those legs. Why, that gal's got legs longer than—"

  Jared wasn't about to hear any more of this. He'd seen Eden's legs. He gave his father a stern look. "For godsakes, Dad. You're old enough to be her grandfather. Hell, you could be her great-grandfather. You have to be aware of that!"

  Oggie let out one of his raspy cackles. "You always was a bit of a prude, boy. A hell of a temper and a mean man to cross. But more scruples than an old maid, yessiree."

  Jared knew he shouldn't ask, but somehow the words were out of his mouth all by themselves. "Have you got something … going with her? Is that what you're telling me?"

  Oggie looked wounded. "You know me better than that, son. If I had something going with a woman, you wouldn't need to ask me about it. Everyone in town would know it. I'm a Jones, after all."

  Jared clamped his mouth shut. He wanted to demand the truth of his father. He wanted to know for certain if Oggie was more than a business partner to Eden Parker. But that was none of his concern and Jared knew it damned well.

  And then Oggie volunteered, "Naw, there's nothin' between her and me, son. She thinks of me as a second father. But an old man can dream, can't he?"

  Jared sighed. He felt relief, and he had no intention whatsoever of examining why. He clapped his father on the shoulder. "Hell, Dad. Sure. Why not?"

  Oggie got into his car and then rolled down the window. "Look. Give yourself a few days before you head out of town. Think it over, 'cause I really am ready to retire."

  "I've made up my mind, Dad."

  Oggie started up the car. "We'll see. Tell you what. Follow me home. I'll fry you up some fresh trout."

  * * *

  Jared was halfway to his father's house, tagging obediently along behind the Cadillac, before he realized that he didn't trust the way his father had given in so easily, or the sound of the old rascal's voice when he had said, "We'll see…"

  But then he shrugged. It really didn't matter what Oggie Jones had up his sleeve. Jared had made up his mind. Miss Eden Parker could have his house after all. He'd be moving on.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  « ^ »

  It was well past midnight when Eden arrived back at the cabin. Friday nights were always busy at The Hole in the Wall. Eden always stayed as late as Oggie needed her. She did the same on Saturday nights and any other night when things were jumping. It didn't bother her in the least that she occasionally worked as many as sixteen hours in a day. Eden liked to work, especially since she'd joined forces with Oggie and she was working for herself. Usually a mere thirteen or fourteen hours on her feet didn't daunt her in the least.

  But tonight Eden felt distinctly droopy as she got out of her car and trudged toward the natural stone steps that led up to the kitchen door. The events of late Thursday night and Friday morning had gotten to her. And realizing that she was going to have to find another place to live, even though she loved it right here,
only increased her weariness.

  Her mood was not improved when she saw the pickup truck that was parked, as if it belonged there, beneath a fir tree that grew right by the front deck. It didn't take any serious mental gymnastics to guess whose pickup truck it might be. Eden dropped her key into her purse, since she was sure she was going to find her door unlocked.

  But she was wrong. The door was locked, just as she'd left it when she went out the previous morning. She'd been careful, as she rarely was anymore, to lock it behind her. Which, now that she thought about it, was pretty silly. After all, the only person who would want to break in had a key of his own. Judging by the pickup under the tree, he'd used it, too. And then added insult to injury by locking Eden out.

  All the lights inside seemed to be off. The rat was probably asleep up in the loft. She considered pounding on the door until he answered. But after measuring the paltry satisfaction of disturbing his slumber against the real trial it was to deal with him, Eden decided to let him sleep.

  She had to fumble in her bag to retrieve the key. And then, since he hadn't bothered to leave on the light by the kitchen door, she had to fumble some more to get the key into the lock.

  Once inside, she half expected him to leap on her from the shadows, demanding to know what the hell she thought she was doing in his house. But that didn't happen. She flipped on the kitchen light and saw that everything was pretty much as she'd left it, except for the single glass on the drainboard. Apparrantly Jared Jones had helped himself to a drink of water before turning in for the night.

  Eden turned off the kitchen light behind her and went out into the main room. She started to flick on the wall switch to light her way to her room, but then she hesitated. If he really was asleep up there, which it seemed all but certain that he was, then the light might wake him. And if he woke, they'd only end up in another unpleasant scene. They could have one of those in the morning, after she'd had a good night's sleep. She turned from the stairs and started to make her way to her room in the dark.

  But then she hesitated. She just plain wasn't comfortable with the idea of going off to her room not even knowing for sure whether there was someone else in the house. She'd never get to sleep, wondering if he was there, or if he wasn't there.

  Better, she decided, to simply find out for sure. If she was very quiet and very careful, she was confident she could put her mind at case without waking the brute and having to deal with him.

  Gently she set down her purse and slipped out of her flats. And then, on tiptoe, she crept up the stairs.

  At the top, she paused and peered through the shadows at the bed, which was up in the corner, on a diagonal from where she stood.

  He was there, all right. There was no missing him. The moon was shining in the window nearby, bathing him in its silvery glow.

  Eden didn't know she did it, but she sighed. When she should have turned around and crept back the way she'd come, she only stared, transfixed.

  He was sprawled faceup, one muscled arm thrown across his face. His body was covered with his sleeping bag to the waist. His bare, powerful torso gleamed alabaster in the pale light from outside. Her gaze took in everything, from the ridged hardness of his belly, to the whorling trail of hair down his solar plexus to the soft shadow of the tuft beneath his arm.

  Something … strange was taking form down inside her, a little bud of need, hot and tender.

  Slowly, only half-aware that she was doing it, she approached him.

  Far off, way back in her mind where reason was sequestered, there was a voice calling to her, ordering her to turn around and descend the stairs and go immediately to her room. But the voice was very far away. It added up to nothing when compared with the sweet siren's call of her own blood.

  Before she knew how it had happened, she was standing right beside the bed, looking down at him.

  He lay there so still and splendid. Yes, splendid was the word for him, lying there in a spill of moonbeams, looking like a statue of masculine perfection come to life and then fallen asleep on her spare bed.

  His hard chest rose and fell evenly. Beneath the arm he'd thrown over his eyes, the grim line of his lips was softened now with sleep. Hardly daring to breathe, knowing she shouldn't, yet unable to stop herself, Eden bent nearer to those tenderly parted lips.

  And that was when he reached out with the arm not thrown across his eyes and grabbed her wrist.

  Eden shrieked and jumped back. But she didn't get far, because he didn't let go.

  Jared dropped the arm that shielded his face. His eyes were open. "Something I can do for you?"

  "Let go of me!"

  He instantly released her wrist and then actually made a placating gesture. "Look. Settle down. It was only a joke."

  "Your sense of humor eludes me. You scared me. You're always scaring me."

  "Sorry. Okay? Finesse is not my strong suit. But I don't want to fight with you. I swear it."

  She backed toward the stairs, bewildered by how decently he was acting about this. Not to mention chagrined at her own behavior. After all, he never would have had the chance to grab her and scare her again if she hadn't been sneaking around trying to get a closer look at him while he was supposedly sound asleep.

  She clutched desperately for the original issue. And miraculously remembered it. "I told you to leave. You have no right to be here."

  "Will you just settle down? Just … take it easy, okay?" He sat up. She tried not to look as the sleeping bag fell away a little. "Busy night at The Hole in the Wall?"

  "Yes. Very busy." She hitched in a tight breath and forced herself to speak evenly. "And you really must leave tomorrow."

  He surprised her by allowing in a perfectly reasonable tone, "I know."

  "Y-you do?"

  "Yeah. I spoke with my old man. Everything's worked out."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You're his partner. That's how he wants it. That's good enough for me."

  "Oh. I see. Well, good then."

  "And you can forget moving out. I've had a little time to think this afternoon and I decided that Heather and Jason Lee can use the money every month for their house payment. From now on, you just make out the rent checks to Heather, all right?"

  "To Heather? Well, I—"

  He let out a disgusted grunt. "Oh. Right. I forgot. You gotta have a legal document before you'll agree on the time of day."

  "That's not it. I—"

  "Well, don't worry. We'll write something up tomorrow, before I leave. Fair enough?"

  "Sure. Fine. But—"

  "But what?"

  "Well, I mean, what about you? Where will you live?"

  His sculpted, moonlit shoulders lifted in a shrug. "It's not a problem. I won't be staying in town after all."

  Eden absorbed this information with a truly ridiculous mingling of guilt and sadness. She had his house and half his inheritance. And now he'd have to go elsewhere to find a place for himself. Good Lord. She almost felt like crying.

  "Where will you go?"

  He shrugged again. "I don't know yet. Maybe down in the valley. Sacramento, Stockton. I'll work it out."

  "You don't have any plan?"

  He actually smiled. It was the first time she'd ever seen him do that. The little bud of tender need inside her began to bloom. "Don't worry about me, Miss Parker. I'm a tough customer. I'll get by. And you're right. I shouldn't be here. I came back here after a nice dinner with my daughter and her husband, and I really was planning to take my things and go. But then I couldn't resist getting one more rise out of you before I pulled up stakes. I can stay with my father until I'm ready to leave town. I'll be out of here tomorrow morning."

  "Oh." She felt terrible, all achy and crestfallen. What in heaven's name was the matter with her? She heard her own voice weakly proposing, "I'll make you breakfast. Before you go."

  "You're on."

  "O-okay. then. Good night…"

  "Good night, Miss Parker."

  She bac
ked halfway down the stairs before she turned and fled to her own room, not even pausing to pick up her purse and her shoes. Then she undressed in a daze and lay down on her bed and tried not to think how much she was going to miss a man she hardly even knew.

  * * *

  "Have you seen baby Bathsheba yet?" Eden asked as she watched Jared pour half a bottle of syrup on his second helping of pancakes. Baby Bathsheba was the two-month-old daughter of Brendan, Jared's brother.

  "Yeah." Jared set the syrup down and sipped from his coffee. This morning, she hadn't had to remind him of his manners. He was eating enough for a small army, but he was doing it slowly and with great care.

  He was also back to being his old taciturn self. Unlike those few moments in the moonlight last night, he was revealing nothing that she didn't pry out of him first.

  Eden. on the other hand, was feeling nervous. Edgy. So naturally, she wanted to talk.

  And she did.

  "When did you see her?"

  "Who?"

  "Baby Bathsheba."

  "Last night."

  "Isn't she beautiful? Did Amy bring her over to Heather's, then?" Amy was Brendan's wife.

  "Yes."

  "I think Amy looks terrific, don't you? I mean, it's only two months since the baby came and you can hardly tell she was ever pregnant. Brendan is so proud, of both his beautiful daughter and his gorgeous wife. Well, we all know how Brendan is about Amy anyway. But it seems like he's just more in love with her every day. Honestly, it's just incredible to see." Eden pushed back her chair and went to the coffeepot to refill her cup. Still standing at the counter, she held the pot out to Jared. "More?"

  "Sure."

  She cheerfully trotted over and poured him a cup. "There."

  He looked up at her. "Thanks."

  "You're welcome." Standing right above him like this, she could smell the shaving cream he must have used when he shaved. She liked it. And his hair, which she hadn't really paid a huge amount of attention to before, was very silky-looking, a rich brown color, threaded very lightly with silver. Also, she could really look at the eye she'd clobbered. It seemed a little better this morning. The swelling seemed to have receded a tiny bit, though it was still a lurid purple.