Page 9 of The Mountain Man's Sweet Treat
She’s a restless sleeper, always kicking and moving about. Her dreams are anything but peaceful. We’re alike in that. As soon as I think it, I push the thought away and get back to my task. I don’t want to be feeling sorry for this girl or wondering what’s stolen her peace.
It takes me several hours but by the time the first pink ribbons of the sky start breaking through, I finished with my plan. I slip inside the cabin and onto the couch I made up. With any luck, I’ll be sleeping in my bed again soon.
Sophie
I blink awake in an unfamiliar bed, sunlight streaming through the curtains. My heart beats an erratic rhythm as adrenaline floods my system.
The events of yesterday come back to me, and I remember my little cabin rental. The rental that came with one very gruff landlord. The thought of his grumpy scowl actually has me smiling. I expected him to argue with me for a lot longer over who got the bed, but he just slunk away.
I reach for Tobias who is sleeping peacefully on my chest. Careful as to not wake him, I settle him on the pillow next to me before sitting up slowly. Something is wrong. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Then I place what’s different and relax. Nothing is really wrong. The room has been moved while I slept.
I remember Whiskey talking about the ghost rearranging his furniture. He’s really trying hard with his little scheme to get me out of here. Well, if he wants me gone, it will take more than a lame ghost story and some furniture changes to get me out of here.
I’m itching to go for a run this morning. I slept last night but it was the kind of restless sleep that happens when you wake repeatedly and can’t settle. All night long, the sounds from that day replayed in my head. The screaming and the gunfire and the terror I tasted at the back of my throat.
Tobias meows softly, making that gentle kitten noise. In his sleep, he must have sensed my rising anxiety. I pull him close, petting him and murmuring to him that he’s safe now. We both are. If only my mind could believe it.
“Let me brush my teeth then I’ll get you some breakfast,” I promise. When I stumble into the attached bathroom, I almost laugh at the message written on the mirror. Scrawled in what looks like soap is one word: leave.
As pranks go, these two were kind of lame which means he didn’t really want to scare me and that he probably doesn’t believe in ghosts any more than I do.
When I’ve brushed my teeth and my hair, I shrug into a black robe and head toward the kitchen. The growly mountain man is asleep on his couch. Half of his body is hanging off the furniture, and other half his covered by his big dog, like a furry weighted blanket.
I chuckle as I take Tobias into the kitchen, thinking of his busy night spent moving furniture. “He wore himself out last night.”
All is fair in war, so I don’t bother creeping around the kitchen and trying to be quiet. Maybe I even accidentally clang some pans a little too loudly and play some music from the ancient radio he has sitting on the counter.
He finally stumbles up from the couch, his beard and hair tousled in a way that’s not entirely unsexy. Some women might even find it a tiny bit attractive. “You’re still here.”
I give the scrambled eggs a good stir. “Someone rearranged the bedroom while I was sleeping.”
He grunts and goes for the coffee machine, pouring himself a steaming mug. He adds way too much sugar and a splash of milk. Bella follows behind him, whimpering until he lets her out the backdoor.
“Do you want eggs?” I offer reluctantly. I mean, he did cook for me last night. Or rather, he shared what he was already making. It seems like I should return the favor.
He grunts again, and I’m not sure how to take that, so I divide the cheesy eggs in the pan. I add two crispy pieces of bacon and some leftover biscuits from last night to both plates.
He opens the backdoor and whistles for Bella. She trots in, and he pets her absently before settling at the table with me.
“Besides, re-arranging the furniture, our friendly ghost also left me a message on the bathroom mirror in soap,” I tell him halfway through the meal when he’s finally started to look a little more alive. This mountain man without coffee could give all those zombies I work with a run for their money.
“Did she now?” He looks up from his food, holding eye contact. There’s not a trace of remorse on his face, though I could swear a see a flicker of amusement in his gaze.
“The message told me to leave.” I take another sip of my black coffee. I will never know how he can drink that sugary swill. Coffee is supposed to be dark and bitter.
“Sounds like good advice.” He feeds bites of his bacon to Bella, sharing it with the big dog whose tail thumps eagerly against the floor with every offered treat.
I narrow my gaze at him, wondering why he just won’t confess to the pranks. “Too bad I’ve never been the type to take advice.”
He drains the rest of his coffee, putting the mug down with a hard thunk against the wooden table. “You definitely don’t seem the kind to scare away easy.”
“That didn’t stop you from trying,” I point out.
He stands from the table. Last night, he took his time eating and spinning more tall tales about the bride who haunts this cabin. But this morning, he seems eager to get away from me. Maybe he’s figured if he can’t scare me away, he can simply avoid me. “I’ll be gone for the day. Don’t get in trouble while I’m out.”
“Where are you going?” I ask, gathering the dishes and putting them in the sink. For a second, I wonder if he plans to go down the mountain and file a complaint with the judge. I still can’t be arrested though. The deputy sided with me.
He crosses into the living room, yanking on some well-worn boots by the front door. The boots are huge, making my size ten feet look downright delicate. How is this man so big? What is it he eats everyday to maintain muscles like that? “I’m going to work.”
