Baby For The Mountain Man

“Where am I?” I asked.

But instead of the voice answering me, it stayed silent.

“Hello?”

I rolled over onto my back and caught the eyes of the man taking care of me. His amber-colored eyes took me by surprise with how guarded they were. He had dark grown hair that was shaggy around his forehead and a strong jawline that caught my stare. Even with the lack of a smile upon his face, I could tell he had dimples. Deep-set dimples on both of his cheeks that probably lit up his eyes whenever he chanced to smile.

He was beautiful. Breath-taking even.

“Where am I?” I asked again.

“My home,” the man said.

“Where is your home?” I asked.

“Not too far from where you crashed.”

I watched him get up from beside me and venture over to a chair. For the first time since I had become aware that he existed, I got a full look at his stature. He was massive. Broad in his shoulders and strong in his legs. His chest was stacked with muscles and his neck was pulsing with veins. Even though he sat down in a chair with his long legs spread, it felt like he was looming over me.

Except his presence wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was more… protective.

“Is my car okay?” I asked.

But this time, he didn’t answer.

“I just… had a lot of my stuff in there. Is it all going to be okay through the storm?”

And still… silence.

I was thrown off by it. He had been so willing to talk earlier when he didn’t think I was listening. Had he been talking to himself? I could’ve sworn he had been talking to me. Actually trying to hold a conversation with me. His voice had been steady and powerful. Commanding, but calm. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to keep asking him questions. But I knew what it felt like to be forced to do something I didn’t want to do.

And if he didn’t want to talk, I wasn’t going to make him.

I rolled back towards the fire and curled up with the blankets he had given me. I allowed the heat of the fire to warm my bones, relieving the ache deep within my marrow stores. I sighed as I closed my eyes, trying to discard the discomfort my clinging clothes were bringing me. The cushions underneath my body were cradling me like a child and it reminded me of innocent days. Days where I ran around with my brothers in apple orchards throwing rotten apples at each other. Days where we would climb the trees and eat our fill before going home and begging our mother to make us freshly-made apple juice. I smiled at the memories. Times when life was simpler, and I wasn’t aware of the fact that I was any different. I was cherished, like one of my brothers. I was loved, like one of my brothers.

I was accepted. Like one of my brothers.

A tear escaped from the corner of my eye and dripped onto the pillow. I could feel the strange man watching me. The strange man with the strong frame and the amber brown eyes. I felt his penetrating gaze burrowing a hole into the back of my head. Like he was trying to figure out what I was all about without ever asking a question.

Most people would’ve felt uncomfortable in this situation. Threatened, even. But me? I was just happy he wasn’t trying to put me in a dress so I would look presentable during my cold spell.

To some, this was the stuff of nightmares.

But to me? This was a vacation.

Two

Travis

I never got any visitors on this mountain. It just wasn’t something that happened. My family owned most of the mountainous terrain on this side of Kettle, and we had chosen not to settle it. Many people over the years had tried to offer us money for it. Wild sums of money so they could have a piece of territory that hadn’t been developed yet. They wanted to build oil pipelines and string up power lines. Level mountains to create small-town cities with beautiful views so they could charge people exorbitant prices to live there. But my family and I, we never sold. Not once had we ever caved to anyone who wanted to take our land from us.

It didn’t just give our family solitude, it gave us a priceless thing of beauty. Undeveloped land meant it was thriving with wildlife. Animals to hunt and birds to listen to in the morning. Families of bears that roared off in the distance and lush, green lands fit for those who wanted to explore.

But I enjoyed the silence. The silence of underdevelopment.

Not being developed meant there weren’t many roads. And the roads that did wind up the mountains were nameless. While most of my family lived in Florida and lived off the profits gained from the businesses they did run, I settled here. Me and my twin brothers each had a cabin we had built with our father’s money. My father considered it the least he could do if none of us wanted to live in Florida with them. And even though I protested, my father said I could pay it back if I wanted to by working some of the businesses in my spare time.