Man of the Mountain

Kutter

As I walk through Fox Hollow Forest, winding up my day, I see tracks in the damp floor of the woods.

Cougar tracks.

Shit.

It would be one thing if there were some coyote winding around this part of the forest. I can deal with those wild ass dogs — but cougars are bad for business. Not that this is a money-making endeavor — keeping the woods safe. But families come out here to camp and fish this time of year and the last thing anyone wants is an animal attack when they’re on vacation.

Sure, everyone understands it’s a remote area, but cougars prowling around will only cause trouble.

Thankfully the sky has been heavy with rain clouds all week. It’ll keep driving people away until I can deal with the cats. Usually this is a beautiful time of year in Fox Hollow Forest. Living off the beaten tracks has its perks — I can enjoy the great outdoors without running into many people.

Why else would I have taken a job in the middle of nowhere? I was born in these woods, and I never plan to leave. Now, I wouldn’t mind sharing this slice of rural paradise with a woman, but most of the ones I meet — down at the one and only bar in a fifty-mile radius — aren’t really looking to make a life in the wild. They’re looking for a good time that just might lead to a way out.

But damn, I wish that weren’t the case. Sometimes what I really crave is a woman to share a bed with. Nothing more because hell, I’m a lone ranger — literally. And there is no woman on earth that could make me change.

As I walk through the woods toward my ranger station, a text comes through. It’s from James, my closest neighbor.

James: Come over for a BBQ on Saturday. Marcie is insisting. Reed and Jasper are coming with their wives.

I shove my phone in my pocket, not wanting to be reminded of what I don’t have. Reminded of what those guys got. Even if it’s not what I want, knowing they have women in their beds each night to satisfy their cravings gets me a little bitter.

Okay, a whole lot bitter.

I feel droplets of rain on my shoulder as I near the station, then a howl.

Looking around, I consider the cougar tracks I saw earlier. Maybe they’re getting braver and starting to come closer than they usually do. I set my hand on the revolver on my hip, clenching my jaw.

But before I can investigate, the sound that I thought was a howl turns to a cry.

Running to the station, my heart pounds. That was no wild animal… that sound was a baby.

I round the corner, seeing a pair of cougars inching toward the door with a hungry look in their eyes. Snapping their mouths, fangs glistening.

Moving toward the doorstep where a baby lays strapped into a baby carrier.

Katie

I press my fingers to my temples, so frustrated with my boss. I’ve been looking for a reason to quit my job for months, but this is the last straw. Lorraine is asking me to go to Fox Hollow for a transport— which I don’t mind doing in and of itself. It’s my duty to make sure all children are safe and well cared for. That matters to me — it’s why I became a social worker in the first place.

What bothers me is that Lorraine didn’t even ask me if I minded doing this after-hours pick-up, when I’ve just clocked in a sixty-hour work week. I want to help — be available — but I also don’t want to be a doormat.

“I can’t do it,” Lorraine says, reaching for her purse and jacket. “I’ve got to get Sonia to ballet practice and Jonah has an appointment with his tutor.”

I pick up the tablet on my desk and slide it into my tote bag. “Fine,” I say, not wanting Lorraine’s kids to suffer. “But next week I’m taking a few days off. I’m exhausted.”

Social workers are known to be over worked and underpaid. I get that. It’s what I signed up for. What I care about is not being treated like an actual human. Like my time is less valuable since I don’t have a husband and kids to care for.

I’m tired of it — I want to be seen as an actual person with feelings.

Though I suppose it would be easier to be seen that way if I ever let anyone in to see those emotions.

Lorraine scoffs. “You can’t just take time off. You have to request leave.” She looks at her watch. “I gotta go. Make sure you grab a diaper bag in the closet and a car seat. The man who called this in thinks she’s only a few months old. Make some calls on the drive out to find a placement, okay?” With that, she turns on her heels and leaves the office.