Baby For The Mountain Man

“There was a man that helped me. Travis Benson. He’s the one that got my car up and running the next day so I could get home,” I said.

“Travis Benson?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Quiet man? Big beard? Light brown eyes?”

“No, no. I know who he is. I’m just shocked he helped,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“First off, I’m shocked you don’t know the name. The Bensons own half of Kettle. Travis lives in the part of the mountains they own. But he’s been a recluse ever since that disgusting woman broke his heart.”

“What woman?” I asked.

“Alicia Burnheart, and her last name suits her perfectly. A gold-digging, good-for-nothing woman who had that man wrapped around her finger. Those two were all over one another, and when they announced their engagement, no one was shocked.”

“Engagement?” I asked. “I don’t think I can see Travis engaged.”

“Maybe not now. But back then? In his early twenties? He was a stunner. Still is, if he’d trim himself up a bit. They planned the wedding of the century.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“She never showed up. Left him standing at the altar making excuses for two hours before Travis accepted the fact that she wasn’t showing up.”

“What?” I asked flatly.

“She did. Rumor has it she ran off with one of the groomsmen. But I don’t think that’s what happened.”

“What do you think happened?” I asked.

“I think his mother intervened. That woman always thought there was something off about Miss Burnheart. I think she saved her son from a great deal of grief he would’ve suffered later. Either way, he hasn’t been the same since. Travis, that is.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone can blame him.”

“It wasn’t too long after that he renounced his job in the family business and had that cabin built for him. He built one for all of his children, the head of the Benson clan. Everyone was heartbroken after that wedding. I think he did it partially out of grief.”

My chest ached for Travis. The life he had lived and the things he had endured. I couldn’t imagine being able to fall in love, but to have it ripped from me on such an important date? The thought robbed me of the breath in my lungs. I had no idea why I was so invested in this story or why I cared so much, but I was hanging onto Miss Mabel’s every word.

“So that’s why I’m shocked. He only comes into town when he needs something and, to my knowledge, he doesn’t talk to anyone,” Mabel said.

“Well, I’m glad he was there. I’m not sure I would’ve survived the storm had he not been,” I said.

“I’m just glad you’re all right, my child. And don’t worry. This fun little encounter will be our little secret.”

Mabel gave me a playful wink before she picked up her cane and left. I watched her walk away as the story spun around in my head. Was what she said true? Had someone really broken that poor man’s heart like that? It would explain why he was such a recluse. But if he was a recluse, then why did he agree to have coffee with me the other day? We talked for the entire afternoon. That wasn’t what recluses did, right?

I wasn’t sure why I cared about any of it. But I knew I was curious.

And I found myself hoping I would run into him again.

Ten

Ava

It was a rainy day in Kettle and I was closed up in my room. My brothers were downstairs talking away with my father while my mother sat and worked on her needlepoint. Fucking needlepoint. Like we lived in the damn thirties. I was sitting in my room reading a book. Well, a book that was appropriate for a woman to read, according to my father. The classics were his favorite, so we were all well-versed in them. But I had a fun little trick. I would rent out the books I wanted to read alongside the books my father wanted me to read. Then, I would switch the book covers just in case my father barged in without knocking.

Which was always.

The cover said ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’, but I was actually reading ‘The Art Of Public Speaking’. If I wanted to be a businesswoman one day, I had to get comfortable with the idea of talking to a room full of people. And with a father who expected me to stand in a corner and not speak until spoken to, public speaking wasn’t something I practiced on a regular basis. I devoured Dale Carnegie’s books. I thought he had a lot of valuable information for me to learn. But I had to be careful about when I read my books. I kept a book light stored underneath my mattress so I could read well after my parents had gone to bed.