Ten Mountain Men's Baby (Love by Numbers 9)

A few more days of being alone with my thoughts and I’ll be ready for the nuthouse.

I went straight for the hotel I’d booked, hoping a hot shower and a hot meal would set me straight.

“Well, hello, there.” A diminutive older lady, white hair perfectly tied in a bun, wearing a faded-blue dress that might have been, many years ago, made for a ball or a fancy gala, greeted me with familiarity and enthusiasm I took as genuine.

“Hello,” I said. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

“I bet you’ve come from far away and have walked many miles to get here.”

I took off my backpack and let it fall to the floor. I mustered up enough willpower not to let myself crumple to the floor along with it. “What gave it away?”

She tapped her nose with an index finger. “I’ve got a nose.”

“Yeah, I definitely need a shower.”

“Oh, no.” She chuckled and swatted my comment down with a wave. “It’s just an expression. In truth, the only thing I’m smelling is cinnamon.” She pointed to the open doorway behind her. “I’ve got some tea brewing.” She leaned over the counter and whispered, “I bet you could use a cup.”

Before I could respond, she turned from me, stuck her head around the open doorway, and called out, “Harold. We got a guest. Won’t you bring us some tea?” She turned to me. “We make the best tea in Georgia. One cup and you’ll be right as rain.” She winked and stepped up to the reception counter.

I also approached the counter. “Thank you. The name’s Dennison. Ryker Dennison. I booked online.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ryker. I’m Judy. You’ll be meeting Harold in just a minute.” She looked back over her shoulder and called out, “Harold.”

“Coming,” he called back. “Hold your horses.”

In all honesty, I didn’t want any tea. I didn’t want to sit down and have a chat with Judy and Harold. I simply wanted a hot shower and a meal. But, at the same time, I knew I had embarked on this thru-hike to learn new things, to experience new things, and to gain a deeper understanding of what I’d already experienced in my life. Tea with Judy and Harold was my first real lesson. Whatever I planned to accomplish during the hike: whether that be the volunteer work along with the many stops, finding out more about my roots, possibly the identity of my parents, or simply getting a shower and a hot meal, the people would have to come first. Nothing could be accomplished without first getting to know the people and sharing a cordial moment.

“There are two kinds of hikers,” Harold said to me, “those who come on the trail to discover themselves and those who come on the trail to get away from the selves they discovered.”

I nodded. “Well, actually, I came on the trail, in part, to discover who my family is.”

Both Harold and Judy leaned back and raised their brows.

“You see, I was adopted in North Carolina, in the mountains.” I shrugged. “I don’t know much more than that. But I was hoping that if I came here to look around, ask around… Who knows? Maybe I will find something out about my roots.”

Harold nodded. “There are three kinds of hikers: those who come on the trail to lose themselves, those who come on the trail to find themselves, and those who come on the trail to find their families.”

I pointed at him. “The third one.”

Harold raised his cup of tea. “Well, Ryker, I wish you the best of success with that.”

“Thank you.”

“And, who knows?” said Judy. “You could find your family. And you might find much more than that on the trail.”5HollyI went to work on Monday morning with the anticipation of Mrs. Freedman calling me about the thru-hike. But at the same time, the idea of leaving for Appalachia, nearly at the last minute, was so extraordinary that I also expected her not to bother to call at all. If she did call, I assumed it would be to tell me that she’d only been joking, that she’d decided to go ahead with the hike herself, or that she’d found someone else better suited to take her place.

Mrs. Freedman did none of those things. I should have been expecting the unexpected. But, as always, Felicity Freedman surprised me.

She didn’t call. Instead, she showed up in person.

She didn’t ask me if I’d had time to consider her proposal or what decision I’d come to. Instead, she handed me a plane ticket.

“But I—”

“Of course, you haven’t had time to shop,” she said. “There are so many materials you need.”

I nodded. “Yes, but—”

“All that’s been taken care of for you. I can have a driver deliver it to your home. What time shall I send him over?”