Page 14 of Mountain Man's Longing
The explanation hits me like a physical blow. All these years, I’ve carried the weight of a father who didn’t want me, and it turns out he didn’t want to leave at all.
“Why didn’t you? Propose, that is.”
“Her father made it clear a marriage offer for his little girl wasn’t welcome. I’m not sure what story they spun, but I was escorted out of the building, and I never heard from her again. I…” he starts, then leans back, glancing off, out the window. “I thought you’d be better off without me.”
“I wasn’t,” I whisper, the admission torn from somewhere deep in my chest. “I never felt like I belonged in that world. In those sterile rooms with designer furniture and suffocating expectations.”
His eyes snap to mine, and he sits up straighter. “What about here in the mountains?”
I trace the condensation on my glass with a fingertip. “The air is so fresh; the earth so close. Everything here feels more…real.”
“It’s in your blood.” His lips curl upward. “Wildwood has always been home. The city was loud with so many people; it all felt so…” He searches for the word.
“Fake?” I supply.
“Exactly.” A smile transforms his entire face. “But I would have suffered in silence for her. Your mother knew that, although I think my love of the outdoors is what attracted her to me in the first place. I was different from the boys in her world.”
“She told me about that winter once.” The confession slips out, another crack in my carefully maintained walls. “After a fight with my stepfather and three vodka martinis. She said thoseweeks skiing in Vermont, the winter you met, were like living in a dream.”
“For me, too.” His expression grows distant, soft with memory. “But dreams end, don’t they? Reality has a way of intruding.”
My throat tightens. Is that what will happen between Graham and me? That reality will crush any hope of…more?
“Want to go for a hike tomorrow?” Eric asks, interrupting my thoughts. “I know a trail that’ll take your breath away.”
When I don’t answer right away, he leans forward. “I’d love to get to know you.”
“I’d like that, too.”
He grins as if he’s seeing something in my face that gives him hope. “I have a feeling you’d love it here, Brenna. Really love it.”
Before I can respond, a woman with silver hair and a warm smile appears beside our table. “Eric Truett, you handsome devil,” she says, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“Mrs. Wilkins.” Eric’s face lights up as he stands to give her a brief hug. “I’ve been meaning to stop by the library to say hello.”
“You better.” Her gaze shifts to me with frank curiosity. “And who might this lovely young woman be?”
“This is—”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, suddenly needing a moment alone. “Could you excuse me? I need to…” I gesture vaguely toward the back of the restaurant.
“Of course,” Mrs. Wilkins says with understanding. “The restroom’s just past the kitchen.”
I escape to the bathroom, my hands shaking as I grip the edge of the sink. In the mirror, my reflection stares back, with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. The woman looking back at me finally has answers. Finally knows the truth about why Eric Truett left.
My grandfather. I’m not surprised. He drove my father away before I was even born. After all those years of feeling like an unwanted mistake, the truth was Eric had wanted me so much he was willing to propose to my mother, even though he had nothing to offer but love.
And the way he spoke just now, as if he can see a future where I belong, makes the back of my eyes sting. Because, God, I want that. I want to wake up every morning to mountain air instead of car exhaust, want to know my neighbors’ names and stories, want to feel like I’m part of something real instead of just performing in a show.
And I want it with Graham. The certainty floods through me with startling recognition. He felt like coming home to a place I’ve never been. And now, meeting my father is like finding the missing piece of myself I’ve been searching for.
Here in Wildwood, where they both live, I’d have time. Time to learn who Eric really is, to build the relationship I’ve craved my entire life. And time to see if Graham might want more…with me.
I splash cool water on my cheeks, take a steadying breath, and head back toward the table, ready to tell Eric that yes, I think I’m going to give Wildwood a try.
But when I round the corner, Mrs. Wilkins is gone. In her place stands a man with his back to me, in work-worn jeans, his dark hair slightly mussed from the wind, and broad shoulders filling out a dark flannel shirt.
My steps falter. Even from behind, I’d know that figure anywhere. The way he holds himself, solid and sure. The breadth of his shoulders that made me feel so perfectly small in his arms last night.
