Page 18 of The Haunting of the Mountain

I smile. “Like I said, this town takes holidays seriously.”

“I think it’s great. It’s not even Halloween and everyone’s dressed up. I feel a little out of place. You…” She adds, humming as she sizes me up and down. “Would be a great ’Squatch. Take off that shirt. Rip up those pants. Some mud and dirt. What do you think?”

I think I want to wrap my hands around your waist, pull you against me, and finally taste those lips. Instead, I make a throaty sound as Kyla bites down softly on her bottom lip.

“Think that’s me after nearly every excursion on the mountain.”

“So you’re saying you’re the one responsible for all the new Sasquatch sightings in this area?”

“Could be. Could be any of the other mountain men in the area.”

“Is that what you call yourselves? Mountain men?”

I’d rather be called yours.

“Sure,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat as we head toward Windy Brews.

Kyla’s head is on a swivel as we navigate the busy sidewalk.

“You know, Nell and I thought this town was a little creepy when we first got here. But I think I might be coming around.”

I snort. “Why’s that?”

“Seemed a little too perfect. Like it was hiding something.”

I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her through another wave of costumed kids. It’s still there after we pass because I can’t help myself.

“It wasn’t always like this,” I say. “Some might’ve called it a sleepy mountain town. Not much but Main Street and the mountains. But with the surrounding areas being built up, we started seeing more tourists. More money. More people. More businesses.”

“More holiday decorations,” Kyla adds as I duck beneath a plastic pumpkin.

“We’ve always decorated like this. Something in this town’s DNA.”

“Well, I’m coming around to it.”

There’s a pinprick of hope inside me, widening by the minute.

“How’s she doing after that storm?” I try to keep my voice smooth..

“She’s fine. I texted with her this morning. Are the trails here dangerous?” She asks abruptly, stopping as she turns to me.

I swallow. “They can be. Why do you ask?”

“Her guide canceled on her so she decided to head up onto the mountain by herself. She’s not going off the beaten path. She’s not crazy. Usually…”

Happens every year. Tourists going off on their own without a guide. I rub my beard, trying to think of a way to tell her without worrying her.

“Trouble is that the beaten path can get wild fast, especially after a storm. Still in contact with her? If you can’t get through we might have to change plans. I’ll take you up the mountain to find her.”

Her face pales. Feels like mine does too.

“I’ll call her,” she says, whipping out her phone.

Kyla frantically taps on her screen as she starts pacing in front of Windy Brews while I watch helplessly. Something sour roils in my stomach.

A few moments later, she jumps up and screams into her phone. “Nell! Are you okay? Where are you?”

They talk for a few minutes and slowly, her demeanor shifts from concerned to relaxed. After she hangs up, she walks over to me.

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