Page 7 of Making a Mountain Man

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I all but skidded around the corner into Heather’s office the next morning. I had no idea what I could say that would convince her this story was a dead end, but figured I would come up with something on the fly.

“Morning, Jill,” she said as I cleared the doorway into her office, trying not to huff and puff after running up the stairs.

“Morning. I’m not going to write thesuck my cockguy article.”

She raised an eyebrow in my direction.

“The guy’s been living a boring life under the radar since the whole thing blew up. There’s no story. Nothing new to report.”

She swiped her tongue over her teeth and studied me. I fought the urge to squirm. “I told you he had never agreed to an interview before. Were you able to talk to him? Part of being a more senior journalist is having to dig for the storyrather than just reporting what you see.”

My jaw clenched and I took a breath. I knew what was expected of me and I had intended to do anything to live up to the expectation. But not this. So I did the only thing I could– I covered a lie with another one. “I did have a chat with him, yes. Not a formal interview. He’s boring, like I said. I’d rather my first article be something with more meat on the bones.”

She tapped her nails on the table.

“I’ll come up with something even better and have it for you in a week.”

Finally, she took a deep breath and nodded. “Fine, get me something good.”

Note: this has to be the best article I’ve ever written

Chapter 6

Wesley

Iwas on a high from my unexpected visitor. I wouldn’t say I’d thought of Jill asthe one that got away,but I had wondered if life would have been different if I hadn’t moved. Would we have dated? Gotten married? Had two point five kids and a white picket fence?

We’d never know. What I did know was that the two of us might just have a second chance at…something. I hadn’t been able to resist kissing her goodbye. I’d needed her to know that friendship wasn’t the only thing on my mind. I hadn’t wanted her to think I was some creep though. Theselfie-gateincident had me hyper aware of how I was perceived, especially by someone I was interested in.

Had I wanted to take it further?

God, yes.

Did I think she wanted me to take it further?

I was pretty sure she had. But, hell what did I know aboutwomen?

We weren’t kids anymore, but we did have a connection. Eventually, I would have to tell her what brought me back to Springwood. For now, I was content to get to know her again.

“So, what is it this time?” I asked the room at large as I walked into the seniors center a few days after my visit with Jill.

Agnes stepped forward to speak for the group as usual. “There was a mouse, maybe even a rat in the furnace room. I saw it and–”

Henry cut her off. “Did you have your glasses? And not the kind that holds wine.”

She harrumphed. “I know what I saw.”

“And I know it took you ten tries to park your car in the lot this morning and you still hit the curb.”

“I don’t see what one has to do with–”

“Never mind. I’ll check it out,” I said. These fights were known to last all day and I apparently had a mouse, real or imaginary, to catch.

Franny appeared while Agnes and Henry continued to bicker. “What has you smiling like a fool, Wesley?”

I sighed. Half my billable hours at this place were just getting grilled by the Fab Four.

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