Page 7 of Married in Misty Mountain

“You wanna get something to eat?” I ask her.

She turns to me after locking up, the two of us standing together awkwardly on the sidewalk.

“Do you mean like go on a date?”

How do I explain that I am not interested in dating her and am only concerned about her well-being? And I’m curious to talk to her and find out what she’s doing in Misty Mountain.

But I don’t want to spook her and scare her away with all these questions I have no business asking.

“Not a date. Coworkers getting a meal together after work.”

Shenna folds her arms over her chest. “That’s not very mountain man of you either. I thought you guys were supposed to be anti-social and off the grid. Not engaging in corporate culture and work gatherings.”

Her mouth twists in a reluctant smile. In response, I let out a sigh that’s too much on the growly side. “Just offering to buy you a hot meal from the Rusty Elk, that’s all.”

The comical grimace from her transforms her whole face. “Seeing as I recently got fired from there, it might be bad form.”

“Do I want to know why?”

She shakes her head. “I’d rather not relive it. Besides, I’m sure you’ll hear about it through the grapevine soon enough.”

“I don’t do gossip. But the offer still stands.”

I get the sense that it’s her pride more than anything else making her turn down my offer. “Thank you, but I’m tired, and I’m going back to my apartment to sleep. I have to be back at the store early tomorrow. See you around, Mountain Man Hurley.”

I watch Shenna saunter away through the village’s downtown. She’s still within view when I finish loading the boxes into the bed of my truck.

For reasons I can’t explain, I follow her home.

Maybe it’s just to make sure she arrives safely. That’s what I tell myself.

She lives in a third-floor walkup in one of those old prairie-style homes from the 1800s that have been remodeled and divided into five or six apartment units. I wait for the light to go on, and then I place a to-go order from the Rusty Elk.

I have nothing to go on other than she looks hungry. If she can’t show her face to the only full-service restaurant and bar in town, she’s going to be hurting for choices for a hot meal.

We don’t have a booming food delivery service in this town, so I hurry over to the Rusty Elk to pick up the order, then silently make my way up the apartment stairs, leave the bag of food by her door, and then ring the bell.

I’m gone before she comes to the door.

Why am I being so sneaky? I guess I want to respect her sense of pride. But deep down, I know it’s because I don’t want Shenna to know I’ve decided to keep an eye on her.

I strongly sense that Shenna — I mean Mlldred — would not like that. Not at all.

Mildred. She really is terrible at secret identities.

Chapter Three

Shenna

Hurley stood way too close to me, hovering over me and helping me work tonight. Very unfair of him to give me the fanny flutters while I was trying to be an independent woman.

How’s a woman supposed to assert herself and make a good impression when all she can think about is how Hurley lifted his shirt to reveal a massive scar across the otherwise delicious, dimpled lower back? Let’s be real—the scar only makes the man even more lickable.

Lickable, schmickable. He’s still kind of a jerk.

As I’m hopping out of the shower, the doorbell rings.

The thought of an unexpected visitor makes my stomach churn.

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