Rock Mountain Man (Men on a Mission Book 6), page 12
Both of her beautiful eyes are welling with tears, but she laughs, sniffs, and clasps her hands together in front of her chest.
“I love you too, Rock,” she says, smiling shyly. “I wouldn’t have shanked you. I was just faking you out!”
Everyone laughs again. “Well?” My dad prompts. “Don’t leave us hanging, Zoey. What’s it going to be?”
“Yes,” she says simply, but I’m already sliding the ring onto her finger.
Then the tears fall from her eyes as I stand up and sweep her into my arms, my father and brothers cheering us on.
Epilogue: Chapter 14
Zoey
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Uncka Steve! Uncka Steve!”
Four year-old Martin stands up in the kiddie pool, set under a shady tree, letting his rubber ducky and his toy hovercraft fall out of his hands to plunk back in the water.
He jumps out of the pool, nearly tripping as he goes, and runs to greet our neighbor, who’s coming around the back of the house. “Hiya kiddo!” Steve waves, then holds his arms out to catch our son as he flings himself into Steve’s arms. “Hey…oh! You’re all wet!” Steve laughs, setting Martin back down after getting the damp-hug treatment.
A moment later, Steve’s wife Stacy rounds the corner of the house as well.. “Hi Marty! Oh, wet hugs for Aunty Stacy too, huh?”
Steve and Stacy, our closest neighbors other than Burt, have become more and more like family as the years passed. Rock’s brothers, who still live in Vancouver, come up as much as they can, but it’s a long drive and they have busy lives themselves.
“Hey guys,” I call out, lifting one-year old Janice out of the water. Grunting as I bend to grab her towel, I swing her up and hold her on my hip, her chubby legs barely fitting around my waist these days.
She squeals with delight when she sees Steve and Stacy, and holds her arms out to the slim blonde woman, making grabbing motions with her little fingers.
“Hi Zoey,” Stacy says. “Did you get your thesis done yet?”
Stacy and I are studying together. She’s getting her bachelor’s in psychology too, and plans to be a psychiatric nurse, but I’m pushing forward for a doctorate. “No, but almost. I just need to do a bit more research.”
“I finished mine last week! So exciting! A new baby and a two new degrees!”
“Crazy, huh? Can you believe, it’s been four years already?”
“I know. And, just think, in four more years, we’ll be calling you Doc LaLonde!”
She holds her hands out to Janice, then takes the baby from my arms, saying, “Hi bubba! Hiya! Kiss for Aunty? Baby girl gots kisses for aunty?” Janice chortles and purses her sweet little mouth, planting a kiss on Stacy’s cheek with a loud smacking sound. “How you feeling, anyway?” she asks, nodding towards my belly.
“Momma’s feelin’ fat,” Martin pipes up. “But, she’s not really fat. It’s just another baby in there,” he adds, with a sigh.
“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Steve tells him. “Don’t you want another brother or sister?” Steve greets Jannie with a tickle under her chin. She bounces in Stacy’s arms, babbles and smiles, then puckers her smoocher at him, too. He gives her a quick peck, smiling.
Martin squints up at him. “Nah. I thought Jannie was gonna be a boy, but she’s a girl. She’s no fun. She doesn’t even share!” He puffs his cheeks up with air and lets it out dejectedly.
“Aww, well you gotta give her a chance to grow up a little,” Steve says. “And a little brother is a lot different than a little sister. If you get one, you’ll see.”
Martin shrugs, not looking convinced. “It’s takin’ forever.” He crosses his arms and shakes his head, looking up at Steve. “Well. I’m goin’ back in the pool. It sure is a hot day.” With that, he turns, runs back to the pool and leaps into it, landing on his butt, splashing a goodly part of the water out onto the ground.
“So…to what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask, a bit puzzled at our neighbor’s sudden appearance.
Janice, watching her brother, bounces and reaches towards the pool, making her “gimme” sound. “You wanna go back in the pool too, honey?” Stacy coos at Jannie. “Huh? Aunty take you. Come on!” She heads towards the pool, saying to me, “I’ll take care of them for a while, okay honey? Steve has something to tell you.”
I look at Steve, a cold feeling suddenly blooming in my chest. Being a cop, plus our close friend and neighbor, it would fall to him to bring me bad news.
Oh God, I hope it’s not…
He sees it immediately. “It’s not Rock,” he says hastily. “I already called him. He’s up at Burt’s, he should be here any…ah, here he is.”
Rock appears at the side of the house, but oddly, doesn’t come towards us. Instead, he lifts his chin, then tilts his head to indicate we should come inside.
Then turns and disappears.
“Come on,” Steve says. “I’ll tell you in the house.”
In the kitchen, Rock has the pitcher of iced tea out and is pouring it into three glasses set at the table.
“Thanks for coming over, Steve,” he says, gesturing at a chair. Steve waves off Rock’s thanks, then sits across from us, while Rock pulls his chair close to mine.
Uh oh.
“What’s this about?” I ask, taking a seat.
Rock looks at Steve and nods as if to say, go ahead.
“Zoey, you know that I’ve been keeping an ear to the ground about your aunt, all these years now. I have a standing request with police services in Maine, with the Canadian Border Patrol, and an alert to be notified if she showed up on any of the RCMP’s databases.”
I nod. “Right, okay. So she got herself into trouble again?”
“No. Isobel was found dead a week ago. The report made its way to me this morning.”
A feeling like a puff of wind hits me, spreading a strange numbness through my heart. Staring at Steve, all I can say at first is, “Oh.”
“I understand she had problems, but I know she was your only family and I wanted to let you know in person.” He leans forward, chewing the inside of his lip. “I’m sorry.”
I sit stock-still, my mind suddenly blank; as if hearing that news drives all other thoughts from my head.
Rock and Steve both stare at me, their concern plain on their faces.
Shaking my head as if to clear the sudden fog, I say: “I…okay. Found dead? What happened?”
Steve grabs his glass and begins turning it back and forth in the little puddle of condensation forming underneath it on the table.
Rock leans closer to me, making sure his arm is touching mine.
“The coroner says heart attack.”
“Heart attack? Okay, heart attack. Huh.”
Silence for a moment, the men watching me.
“Well, who found her? Did she die in her sleep or something?”
“No. She was found in an RV park in Langley. She’d parked her RV there for an overnight stay but didn’t leave in the morning. The park owner called the police when she didn’t answer their knocking.”
“Langley? Langley? She…she was here? In Canada?”
He nods slowly. “Yes.”
“Looks like she didn’t let any moss grow after her five-year ban expired,” Rock remarks.
Steve shakes his head. “Nope. She was cleared by the Border Guards at the crossing.”
“She crossed at Langley? It’s so far away from Maine.” I say. “I wonder if she drove across the country just to visit me, like she threatened.”
Rock clears his throat. “Um, no. She moved to Seattle about a year after her ban. Four years ago. She got the RV and lived in a trailer park since. But listen, it’s a very high-end place, for a trailer park. Like a resort, okay? An economical resort, but, decent. She had a modern RV, too. She wasn’t destitute.”
I listen, wide-eyed. “And how do you know all that?” I ask.
Steve and Rock exchange glances. “We kept tabs on her,” Rock admits.
“Without telling me?”
“Damn right,” Rock says. “If you’d known about her moving to Seattle, you’d have worried about it all these years.”
“Hmm,” I say. “Okay, yes. Probably. I wonder if she did that so that she’d be closer to us. Closer to me.”
“Seems like it,” Steve says. “Among her belongings was a fake passport and other ID under a different name. Maybe she was determined to see you, one way or another.”
“There’s also some photographs of her and your Dad, when they were kids,” Rock adds.
“I want those,” I say right away.
“You’ll get everything she had,” Steve says simply. “Eventally.”
“The photos are all I want,” I say, but I realize that yes, whatever is hers might be mine now. Unless she willed it otherwise.
I don’t really care. I just want the photos of my Dad.
“So, she crossed the damn border. The only reason she’d have to do that, that I know of, would be to come here.”
“Could be,” Steve nods.
Silence falls for a moment, with both men looking at me carefully.
“What will happen now? Do I have to go, um, claim her remains?” My voice breaks a little as I speak.
Rock takes my hand in his.
Even though I fled her, part of me begins aching. She was very troubled and abusive, yes.
But somehow, it still hurts my heart to hear that she suffered and died alone.
“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “The coroner’s office could repatriate her remains to Seattle and she could be cremated and interred somewhere down there.”
“I see.”
“You have a few days to make a decision and then I’ll let them know. It’s okay if you don’t want anything to do with it, Zoey. No one will judge you either way.”
“I…okay. Thank you. But I don’t need to think about it. I’ll bury her on my property. If that’s allowed? She’s my only family. There isn’t anyone else.”
“Hey,” Rock says, gently. “She’s not your only family anymore. There’s me, my dad, my brothers, those two awesome kids out there, and one more.” He rubs my belly affectionately. “And as many more as I can convince you to have, for that matter.”
“And us,” Steve says. “Don’t forget us! You have plenty of friends on the mountain.” He gives me a comforting smile.
I don’t know what sets me off exactly…partly, it’s the finality of Izzy’s death sinking in, I guess.
The sadness and the inevitability of it.
Partly, it’s also the overwhelming gratitude that rushes through me ,in the truth of what Rock and Steve are saying.
So much gratitude to have everything I ever dreamed of, when I was back in those hard days at Izzy’s house.
All my dreams came true when I escaped her.
But I can’t help being sad that whatever demons haunted Izzy, destroyed any dreams she might have had, too.
Maybe she never had a chance to be as happy as I am.
And the whole thing, all of it, rears up and overwhelms me, even though I’m very much a different person now.
Tears fall and I’m not sure exactly why. Must be a mishmash of things. My lost teenaged years, for my parents, for myself, and yes, even for Izzy. I let the tears come, knowing they’ll dry soon, as my husband strokes my head and murmurs words of comfort and love.
Two weeks later, we inter Izzy’s remains under an oak sapling on my property. Close to the babbling stream, it’s a lovely, peaceful spot.
Our family, the four of us, stand in front of the gravesite which Rock and Burt prepared earlier. Burt is waiting at Grampa’s cabin, now a modern, renovated log home with three bedrooms and all the amenities.
Burt will come back when we leave, to finish laying Izzy to rest.
I’m so thankful for my family, for their help and support.
Rock holds Jannie in his arms, and Marty by the hand.
Carrying the urn, I walk up to the site and turn to look at them.
“Okay kids, we have to have a moment of silence right now,” Rock tells them. “Mommy’s going to say a few words, and then we’re going to say good-bye to Aunty Izzy. After that, we’re going to town for dinner to celebrate her life.”
I love the way he speaks to them. He’s matter of fact but not too serious or adult. Marty has no clue what’s going on really, but that’s okay. He trusts and looks up to Rock completely.
He knows his daddy is always straightforward and truthful with him.
“Bye, Aunty Izzy,” Marty says.
“Shh, not just yet, son,” Rock hushes him. “Let Momma say what she needs to say first.”
“Daddy my suit is itching me.”
“Okay, we’ll fix it soon. Shhh now.”
Jannie, who’s usually bubbly and noisy, is gazing at me quietly, her eyes huge and solemn.
Clearing my throat, I gather my thoughts. “We’re gathered here to lay Isobel Krogan to rest. She was my father’s only sister, and my only aunt.” Pause. “And I guess she got here for a visit after all. Now, it’s her home, too. May she rest in peace.”
I step forward and kneel on a towel Burt put down for me, when I insisted that I be the one to put her in the ground.
Setting the urn in the small, carefully dug hole, I lean back and look up at the sky. Then I take a handful of dirt and sprinkle it upon the urn.
Jannie clasps her hands together and coos softly as Rock comes to help me to my feet.
“Bye, Aunty Izzy,” Marty says again. Then he turns to his Dad. “There’s no one in that jar, is there Dad? It’s too small!”
Rock laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll tell you when you’re older. Now come on, we’re going to the Texas Steakhouse and have a feast.”
I take our daughter from Rock’s arms and we all head towards the vehicle parked by the house.
“Can I have french fries? And a cheeseburger? With pickles?”
“Yep,” Rock says. “I’ll finish what you can’t eat.”
“Okay. And a beer?”
“What? No!” Rock and I exchange wide-eyed looks. “Why do you want a…oh, did Uncle Alex let you have a sip yesterday?”
“Yep. It was awful!” He yells out that last vehemently. “Blee-yuck! But Unka Alex says it makes ya burp and yesterday, he burped out the alphabet! And he said someday, I can too!”
Rock and I crack up, even though we probably shouldn’t.
“I guess it’s good to have goals, son,” Rock says.
In my arms, Jannie goggles at her Dad, and then at her giggling brother, then at me. I smile at her. “Marty’s silly, isn’t he?”
“Yah!” She chirps, then she claps her hands together, wrinkles her nose and lets out a joyful peal of laughter, the pure, sweet sound echoing across the gentle slope of the valley.
The End
14
JACKED Sample Chapter
Jack
Seven-fifty-three a.m.
Sun’s been up for a few hours now. When things get into full swing here next week, I’ll be up before dawn for sure. But right now, I can still sleep in.
After climbing down the ladder from my loft bed, I step outside into the cool morning air.
The night creatures in the forest are all tucked away in their nests now…the lucky ones, with a full belly.
There are lots of things with teeth and claws in the bush here, four hours north of Toronto.
The full contingent of crew has yet to arrive, but the noise and activity over the last two days since the first few of us got here would have scared the big predators off by now.
The thought hits me that I’m probably the biggest mammal in the vicinity. It’s safe enough, sure, but it still makes me a little sad.
Naked except for my boxers, I’m standing on the rough plank deck outside the foreman’s cabin, my home and office for the season.
The rest of the camp buildings are a ways down the thickly-treed hill behind the cabin.
This much-needed privacy is a perk of the job, and the view doesn’t hurt, either.
Up here, the cabin on the ridge overlooks the valley below, trees showing the pale green of their springtime foliage.
It’s a clear view, all the way to the horizon.
Just below the cabin, a small plateau holds a swimming pond, fed by an underground spring.
The early morning sun paints a band of gold across the surface of the pond, highlighting a cloud of gnats hovering over the water.
As I watch, a big dragonfly darts in and out of the cloud of smaller insects. The sun’s reflection off its wings makes it look like a fiery, living spark as it flies off with its morning snack.
Deep breath… ahhh, that clean, fresh air…then I stand up straight and do some shoulder shrugs.
Ow.
Still some aches in my traps, pecs and arms. A few squats and lunges make me wince too. Yep, stiffened up overnight.
No matter how fit and hard you think you are, out here, the bush is harder and it’ll kick your ass if you’re not careful.
With no machinery or laborers on site yet, yesterday, me and Calvin, my second-in-command, hand-hauled a dozen seasoned, twenty-foot logs to the bucking area, dragging them with tongs on a chain like an old-fashioned mule team.
With us being the mules.
Then we wrestled all the plywood off the windows on the buildings, stored them away and opened windows to air the buildings out. Next we set up all the mess tables so Sven, the cook who’s getting up in years, wouldn’t have to.
The rest of the day was spent cutting and stacking firewood for all the camp buildings against the sometimes-cool, damp and rainy summer nights up here.
Yeah. Still feeling it today.
The work involved just in opening the camp and getting it set up for the season is already showing me where I got soft over the winter, deadlifts or no deadlifts.
Doesn’t matter how sore I get. The fact is, the camp boss is responsible for everything. And that means he has to make sure everything gets done even if he has to do it himself.
