Page 10 of Kept By The Mountain Man

“I was in the Marines. I got out two years ago after I was shot, and I moved here.”

“You were shot? Where?”

“My shoulder. Right here,” he says, pointing to his left shoulder. “I was on medical leave, and then I was discharged.”

“Do you miss it?” I ask him as we finish off our appetizer.

“Sometimes. Not for the last nine months, though.”

Nine months. When I started working for him.

“What about you?” he asks as our waitress clears the empty plates away.

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Uh huh,” he says, making me smile.

“I moved here nine months ago… or well, not moved, but I ran out of money, and I’m here until I can save up enough to make it back home.”

“How much do you need?” he asks.

“I think I’ll have enough after this month. Shit, I guess I should be putting in my two weeks notice to you soon.”

Hendrix’s lips thin, and he looks upset by that news.

“Where’s home?” he asks. “We can work from anywhere.”

I ignore the we in that sentence and the way that it makes butterflies take flight in my stomach as I answer him.

“Wolf Valley, Oregon. A couple of days drive west of here. I should be back before all of the holidays.”

He nods, and our food is set in front of us a moment later.

“Where are you from originally?” I ask him as we both dig in.

“Maine.”

“Why not go back there when you got out?” I ask.

“There wasn’t anything there for me.”

“No siblings? No parents?” I pry.

“Nope. My parents died while I was away. Or my dad did, anyway. My mom was never in the picture.”

“Mine was the opposite. I never met my dad, but I never didn’t mind. My mom was awesome.”

“Are you still close?” he asks.

“No, she passed when I was nineteen. That was what started me on this cross-country road trip.”

“You don’t like Sweetheart Falls?” he asks me.

“It’s fine, but it’s not home,” I tell him.

We eat in silence for a minute, and then he clears his throat.

“Tell me about Wolf Valley,” he says, and I smile as I start to tell him about the town and my friends.

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