Page 4 of Promises on the Mountain

But I'm not Hayle-- and I'm not Cane either.

I've done my share of waking up in places I don't remember getting into-- a couple of jail cells down in the valley, a few orchards in Keller's Ferry, once buck-nekked in a bull pasture that turned out to be on the Lazy P-- mostly in beds with women that were just as shocked to see me as I was to see them.

But I don't wrestle the same demons my brothers do. I can drink one beer and walk away. Even if I haven't always chosen to-- it's always been a choice. A choice I don't make anymore.

Can't remember the last time I lost myself in the bottom of a bottle.

Not true, I tell myself as I drive back up to the Gulch-- I remember exactly the last time I let booze drown out the pain, the night Hayle called to tell me he wasn't coming back.

He'd left the Ridge and he said it was for good. Cane was still playing at that time, and Hayle said that made me the man of the family. The youngest one of us, suddenly in charge of taking care of Mom and Gran and our baby sister when I wasn't even ready to take care of myself yet.

I couldn't step up like he'd asked me to. Not right away. First, I had to go on a bender in a Keller's Ferry roadhouse, drinking till I couldn't see and then smashing anything that got within reach.

Since then, I haven't done more than knock a few brews back while I kick Ozzie's ass at pool.

Of course, Cane came back as soon as he found out our oldest brother had skipped town. Gave up a future playing pro ball to move back up to the Gulch and take over running the Gold Camp for gran. Effectively demoting me to manual labor and reminding me that he's never going to see me as anything but his fuck-up little brother.

Joke's on him, because I don't want to run the damn camp anyway. Never did. And Cane's good at it, he's got a head for that kind of thing. I don't hate the hard work; it feels good to swing a hammer all day and I'll keep doing it voluntarily if Cane can get it in his head that I'm grown-ass man now and not the confused little kid that needed something to keep him busy so he didn't have to deal with the fact that his entire family had fallen apart.

In the house, I grab the blanket and the cooler I packed for our trip to Turtle Lake.

I told my brother to eat shit, the new cabins can wait another day. They don't have to be ready till May and we're ahead of schedule.

Today, I'm finally going to spend time with my girl.

I'm tired of stealing her time in fits and spurts between her customers. I'm done having to settle for learning about each other one double espresso at a time. I want to hear her whole life story. I want to know what crazy twist of fate finally delivered her to my mountain, and I want to claim those sweet curves of hers in the privacy of the old hunting cabin with the fire roaring beside us before I lose control and take her right there on that damn piece of blue Formica that's been cock blocking since I first laid eyes on her.

I throw the truck in neutral and kill the engine, letting her coast into position in front of gran's building, setting the e-brake to stop the truck before it can kiss the long porch. Gran would kill me if I take out one of the support pillars. Again.

The hand-painted sign in the window is turned to "closed" but the door to the cafe is unlocked when I pull the handle. Inside, chairs are stacked on tables, April's fancy espresso machine is torn down, the little tablet computer she uses in place of a cash register is powered off.

There's a heavy-duty, swinging door that separates the front of the coffee shop from the back room and it's propped open with the door-stop down. From somewhere beyond that, I hear April's voice and another female talking back to her.

"I can't wait to see it, I know Mia would have loved it...even though she wasn't really a big fan of the mountains, but I know the beach cities are so expensive and there's no way you could have opened up all by yourself out here."

"Actually, the plan was always to move to the mountains."

I don't mean to lurk, but when I hear the tiredness in April's voice, I need to know who she's talking to, what it's about. It's obviously not a conversation she's enjoying.

She's sweeping while she talks to the woman on speaker phone, her back to me while she works.

"Well, whatever, I'm sure you'd have been able to stay closer to home if Mia was...still with us."

April's shoulders slump, the broom in her hands coming to a stop.

"Hey, I can't wait to see the place!" the disembodied voice on the phone says, "I want to see my sister's dream brought to life-- you're coming home for summer, right? Mom really misses you."

"No, Kay, I have a business to run. I can't just close it down for months at a time."

My girl sounds tired. She sounds like someone who's been having the same conversation over and over and is staring to lose her conviction.

"It's a coffee shop, Ape. Who wants coffee in the summer time?"

"Actually, Kay, summers are really busy for most cafes and that's when Moonshine Ridge gets most of its tourist traffic, too. I'm expecting it to be a really good time for the shop."

"We'll see, I guess. I'm sure you're doing the best you can without your business partner. Hopefully moving to that mountain wasn't a total mistake. See ya soon!"

The call ends. April's body straightens with a deep inhale as she finishes her sweeping.

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