Page 9 of Mountain Man's Valentine
He came out ofnowhere.
“I. Said. Go. You are trespassing on my property, and I have every fucking right to blow you away right now.”
My assaulter nearly whimpers. His body drops down and he puts his hands on the ground. He keeps them there, head hung, shameful.
The man with the rifle keeps his target. He keeps his rifle trained between my assaulter’s eyes.
“Now.”
I feel my eyebrows knit together and my mouth pull open slightly. My lips feel chapped and dry, but warmth somehow spreads inside me.
I feel his presence around me. I can feel his energy. He isn’t looking at me; he still has his eyes squared intently on the man on the ground with the busted lip.
But I can feel his eyes shift, as though he wants to look at me.
Andgod, do I want him to.
I want to see the eyes of the man who saved me.
Like a crushed bug, the man who attacked me scrambles backward on his hands and knees, then pops up, and starts off in the opposite direction. He runs away from us. He can’t get away fast enough. It’s as though a lightbulb has gone off in his head and he knows to get the hell out of here.
He clutches his fake rifle as he runs.
The man who saved me puts his veryreallooking rifle over his shoulder.
I gasp, needing air.
What thehelljust happened?
My savior adjusts his gaze, his eyes trailing over the landscape between us, but only after my attacker is out of sight. Only after we can no longer hear the cracking of ice under his feet, only after the hint of his bright vest vanishes into the distance.
This man left in front of me isbeautiful. And it’s not just his face or his body. It’s the way he walks, the way he moves.
The way he just appeared out of nowhere.
And then, out of the shadows of the trees and the subtle beginnings of glistening moonlight on the white snow, the woods that haven’t been touched, the paths that haven’t yet been walked on, his shifts and moves toward me, and I see his eyes.
Ifinallysee his eyes.
And there is concern in them, andfear, yes...I can see fear in his eyes, from this man who doesn’t look like he’s been threatened in his life, who is big enough to flick anyone away from him with a finger, who can pick me up and make me feel light as a feather if he wanted to. There is fear in his eyes, but it’s more. It’s wanting and desire, and it’s…
It’s something else, too.
Why is he looking at me like that?
And I feel my heart clench and then heat sweep through my entire body. I swallow thickly.
His eyes burn into me.
Iwanthim.
And I’m almost speechless.
“Aren’t...aren’t you cold?” I stutter.
It’s all I can think to say. It sounds so silly, I know that the moment I say it, but it’s the only thing that comes out.
Because now I can feel. I can feel again. And I can feel that I am very, very cold.
