Rock Mountain Man (Men on a Mission Book 6), page 6
“That must’ve taken some courage, Zoey.”
“Maybe. But there was no way I was staying with her, so…maybe it’s not courage when you don’t have any choice.”
“Maybe,” he agrees, shrugging. “I’m not so sure, though.” Pause. “Let me ask this one last thing. Who was checking up on her on your behalf?”
Now I turn to look at him. “My behalf? No one.”
“No one? Child services wasn’t involved with you?”
“No. Why would they be?”
“I…well, I don’t know. I guess they wouldn’t be, if she had legal guardianship.”
“She ranted about that sometimes. She liked to say stuff like, “You’re my ward and I’m the Master of this house so you better do what I say.”
“Hmm. She sounds like a peach,” he comments, almost to himself. “Hey, about the locked pantry…didn’t any social worker notice that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. If they did, why would it matter? Maybe some foster kids really do binge on food. Maybe that’s a normal thing for abused and neglected kids. Besides, there are a lot of kids who need care. If they let single people take in kids, then it makes sense that Child Services can’t afford to be too picky. Maybe they let some things slide.”
He nods. “Right, sure. That does make sense. Unfortunately, it seems like there’s a lot of room for any foster parent to abuse or take advantage of the kids, and the system, for that matter.”
“You got that right. Look, most foster parents probably are good, decent people. They have a lot of love to share. But they’re not all exactly fairy godmothers, you know. The stories some of the kids tell would curl your hair. ”
Again, I can’t keep the distress out of my voice.
I fold my arms over my chest, almost feeling like crying, almost feeling angry, too. But I’m not sure why. I’m not angry at Rock, exactly. Maybe just stressed out. Everyone always says how stress is bad for your mental health so, maybe this is just how it’s affecting me.
And, again, I catch him glancing at me.
“Zoey, I’m not doubting you. I’m just trying to understand.”
I shrug again and let out another sigh. “I know. I think I’m just stressed out still. You know?”
He nods.
“And…I’m just…tired. Tired and scared, if you want to know the truth. Izzy’s my only family and…she’s not a good person. She was always trying to hurt me. Said mean things about my parents…kept me awake some nights. No, like I said, she didn’t hurt me physically, but not all abuse is physical, right? The thing is…what it means is that, basically…I’m alone.”
Another short pause. Now he takes a deep breath, and lets it out again.
“No, you’re not,” he says, firmly.
Then, to my amazement, he holds out his hand. “Everything will be okay. No matter what happens, you’re not alone. I’m here for you.”
Glancing at me again, he extends his hand a little more, waggling his fingers at me. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I won’t hurt you.”
After hesitating for the space of a heart-beat, I put my hand in his. He glances at me again, and smiles softly.
His hand, enfolding mine, is warm, and comforting, and nice. Not threatening or icky or weird.
No one has offered me such a simple gesture of comfort since Momma died.
The tears want to come again, but I swallow them back.
It’s nice. So nice.
So very, very nice.
After giving my hand a comforting squeeze, he lets go.
And just like that, my tension fades and the knot in my chest loosens.
And the four-hour drive to Vancouver passes swiftly, sometimes in animated discussion, sometimes joking, laughing, and being silly, sometime with the radio blaring and both of us singing along at the top of our lungs.
Best of all…sometimes, we just sit together, saying nothing, in a comfortable silence that feels a lot like coming home.
Chapter Seven
Rock
Two Days Later
On the porch, broom in hand, Zoey watches me steer my truck into her dooryard.
My gaze takes in a bunch of stuff on the porch; some of it leaning against the outside wall, some piled in a heap. Looks like she brought out a lot of the items that were once hanging on the wall inside.
Then my eyes are drawn naturally back to her own sweet self. She’s wearing some of her new clothes..and a delighted smile.
“Morning, Rock,” her voice rings out clearly in the morning light, carried across the dewy grass like the peal of a bell.
Damn! The beauty of that smile!
I grab the ladder and my heavy, industrial portable battery, freshly charged, out of the truck-bed and carry them towards the house.
“Thanks so much Rock! Now I can charge my phone, and get to see what’s in the attic. It’s like Christmas!”
“Ho ho ho,” I boom, smiling. “Never say Santa Rock doesn’t deliver.”
She giggles, the asks, “How long will the battery stay charged, do you think?”
“Should last a few days, or maybe a week, as long as you’re only charging your phone. It’s only a temporary solution though. We’re gonna have to talk about something more permanent, soon.”
“Yes, I know.” Her gaze on mine pulls me towards her; her body language proud, upright and welcoming as I climb the porch steps. I set down the battery and lean the ladder against the wall.
“Just let me finish sweeping, okay? Almost done.”
“Sure.” I take a seat on the top step as she turns back to her task. Watching her ass in those close-fitting pants is a pure pleasure.
I can’t help it. Her arrival, out of the blue, seems to have changed my whole purpose and mission in life.
There’s no questioning what’s happening here. There’s no fooling myself. And I’m glad to be wrong when I told my Dad, only a few days ago, that a good woman was never going to drop into my lap.
She did. I don’t know why, but I have no doubt.
None.
I’m as sure of that as anything I’ve ever been in my life
Furthermore, I’m going to claim her. I don’t give a fuck what it takes.
Make her mine…even if I have to make it my sole mission.
“You look beautiful in those short pants,” I say, returning her radiant smile. “Capris, you called them? Like your mom’s. But these fit you properly and that pink is a good color for you.”
“Thanks!”
“My pleasure. I’m glad you let me have a say in some of your choices.”
Clasping her hands behind her back, she smiles. “Honestly? I was glad you were there. I haven’t had any new clothes for so long, I don’t know what looks good or what doesn’t.”
“I think you make just about anything look good,” I admit.
“That’s very nice of you to say,” she says, cheeks turning pink. “I still don’t really understand why you insisted on buying everything,” she continues, her brow furrowing in puzzlement. “Even my groceries. Especially once you got a load of my bank balance in the lawyer’s office.”
Smiling, I look away, shaking my head before returning my eyes to hers. “Yeah you’ve got a helluva nice stake there. Over three hundred grand in US dollars in that one account. Did you see the look on the bank manager’s face when he confirmed it with your US bank? Hah! He couldn’t make the transfer fast enough.”
“I know! I was surprised how nice he was to me, too. Did you hear him? He was all: “Welcome to our bank, Miss Donal!” And: “Oh it’s all my pleasure, I assure you, Miss Donal!“ No one’s ever kissed my butt like that before!” Her words end with a tinkling giggle, making me laugh as well.
I’d probably like to kiss that butt myself, too, but right now I’ll just make sure she’s okay.
“Yeah, well, money talks, sweetie.” I say, letting the endearment drop to see how she reacts. She turns and smiles at me, then resumes pushing the broom with more vigor.
Still smiling, I add: “And those bonds will be worth a few million dollars in ten years time. This property alone is worth close to a million now. No wonder your mom made everything so-iron clad in her will.”
“Like I said, that’s why I wasn’t too worried about getting on my feet. Only…the only thing was whether Izzy was going to be a problem.” But the way her eyes are glowing, she doesn’t seem all that worried anymore.
So much better than the wariness and fear she was showing only two days ago.
But… the situation is still unstable in more than one way. And I can’t shake my sense of concern over it.
“Like Stan said, she may have tried to mess with it, but the will was properly executed. Iron-clad. The deed is real and this place really is yours,” I continue, standing up.
“I wonder if she will try showing up here,” Zoey says, her face taking on that pinched look of worry for a moment. “She knows the address, after all.”
“Well, all we can do is wait and see. I’m just up the road if you need me.” I keep my voice light, but the thought worries me a little, too.
Zoey gives a nod and a shrug, then looks towards the driveway like she expects to see her aunt pulling up any moment.
Hating to see the light in her face extinguished, I hastily change the subject to something happier. “Hey, all we need to do now is run hydro from the road, get you some appliances and you could live here forever!” I’m joking, hoping to lighten the conversation, as well as turn it in the direction I want.
Face brightening, she takes my joke seriously though. “I could, couldn’t I? I wonder if I have enough money for that.”
“Uhhh…well, I’m sure you do. Mind you, it will be expensive. Especially if they have to blast in order to sink any poles into the bedrock. You’d be paying for that. After that, it’d only be a day or two work for a crew and an electrician. But…”
Before I can finish, she squinches her eyes up, grinning wide, gripping the broom handle with both hands and doing a little two-step with it. “I’m so happy!” She stops, her expression still full of happiness. “Rock…Rock of Ages…I can’t thank you enough!”
With a squeal of joy, she drops the broom handle and throws herself into my arms, wrapping her own around my waist and hugging me like I’m the last human being on earth.
The contact of her body sends a shock wave of emotion blowing right through me. Warmth and tenderness and desire and need and respect and…yeah, lust.
And a new and growing love. What else could it be?
All I know is, I can’t stop myself. I pull her close, hugging her back, quick and tight, and it’s all I can do to prevent myself from lowering my lips to her head and kissing the top of it.
Soon.
Not quite yet, but soon.
Instead, I pat her back and gently disentangle myself before my dick gets too interested in the contact. “I wanted to spoil you a little after everything you’ve been through. Really, though, you have your Mom to thank for taking care of you like she did.”
She stands back from me, smiling. “I know. But you’re already helping me more than I can say.” Then she tugs on one of my hands, pulling me towards the door. “Come in and check it out!”
Inside, the place is neat as a pin. Every surface has been dusted and cleaned within an inch of its life.
The old dresser against the back wall has been uncovered of its drop-sheet. The polished pine has a mellow glow, now sporting a woven placemat on its surface, topped with a hurricane lamp.
There’s some rag rugs now, too, one in front of the bed, the sink and the dresser.
The table between the chairs has a woven place mat on it now too. A tall, red-glass vase sits on it, holding an arrangement of wildflowers.
The wood stove holds the new kettle I bought for her in town.
The bunk beds are neatly made up, their old but decent blankets tucked in carefully around the mattresses.
Across the room, the line of pegs that formerly held all the tools and equipment currently piled on the porch, now hold her small new collection of trousers and jeans.
The pegs beside the door hold her old hoodie, plus some sweaters, jackets and her new winter coat.
Below that, neatly lined up, is her new and old shoes and boots.
It’s not much clothing compared to any girlfriend I’ve had, but Zoey’s so happy with it.
Their curtains tied back today, sunlight streams through the gleaming windows and bounces off the old kitchen counter, now shiny and clean. And it smells like… vinegar?
“I washed the windows,” she says happily. “And the hurricane lamps. And everything else, just about.” She wrinkles her nose. “I forgot to get cleaning supplies so I used vinegar and water. A bit too much vinegar, I guess. Sorry about the smell.” She shrugs sheepishly. “But…look how clean everything is!” She sweeps her arm around proudly. “And I dusted and swept, of course. And finished clearing away all the cobwebs. I found a bunch of things in the dresser when I was putting my clothes away. It already feels so much more homey in here.”
“It looks great, Zoey. Nice work!”
“Thanks! Hey, once I get hydro, I could get a little fridge, and put it on this end of the counter, away from the stove. Then I won’t have to keep my milk in a basket in the stream.”
“A basket in the stream?” I chuckle. “I didn’t even notice that you bought milk.”
“I didn’t, yet, but I’m going to. I like it with my tea. I can call an Uber now with my phone and get my own groceries!”
“Yes, but…”
“And if I get hydro, I can get a modem, too right? And a laptop! And the internet! Oh my God I can’t wait! There’s so much good stuff on there, everything you could ever need. Izzy only let us access the home-school group site and whatever we needed to do homework.” She pauses. “Mom used to let me use her laptop to go on Youtube and watch old movies and cartoons. But, after she died, I never saw it again.”
I nods. “Okay. Well, yeah. You’ll need hydro for a modem and wifi and all that. But…”
“How would I go about doing that, anyway? Getting hydro?”
“Uhmm. I’d have to call the utility and ask. But…”
“You’ll call them for me?” Her shining eyes and her smile make me want to do anything for her.
“Sure. But, you know, you need other things too. More important things. A pump in the well for indoor plumbing. A bathroom! Wiring for lights, a fridge, a lot of things.”
“Oooh! If I do all that, I won’t even have to find another place to live! I can just live here!”
Even in the face of her innocent joy, again a sense of uneasiness swirls through my stomach.
Now that she has access to all her money, what will she do with it? She could certainly reno this place but would it be worth it?
Will she go nuts and blow her money on stupid shit? I don’t know. There’s enough money there to hurt herself with, for sure.
She has no one to help her. No guidance about money, like I had from my Dad.
“An addition would be nice, too. A bigger kitchen! And a bedroom. Two bedrooms!”
“Zoey, wait. I was only joking about the hydro, first of all. The thing is, before you do anything, you’d have to have the place assessed to see if it even meets residential code. This property is designated recreational property, not residential, remember?”
“I…no.”
“Stan mentioned it during the meeting. But maybe you missed it, since you were on cloud nine by that point. Not that I blame you.”
“Well, what would I have to do? I mean, to get that all started?”
“I don’t even know. Probably involves making an application for re-zoning with the town, then waiting while they make a determination. Then, you’ll need permits to build, or upgrade the cabin. It was built so long ago. It’s winterized but it wasn’t built to be a residential dwelling. On top of that, you’d have to…”
Dismay dimming her excitement, she interrupts me again. “Couldn’t it be fixed up for that?”
“I…I’m not sure. It might not be worth spending the money on, is what I’m saying.”
“Oh. Well, then, I’ll just get a bathroom and hydro in here. I could do that, right? And just not make it residential? As long as I have the internet, I can sit on my bed and surf. Then I can just live here until I figure out my next move.”
Oh boy. I hate to be the bearer of bad news when she’s so excited. But reality is reality.
“I don’t know if you could get hydro in here without jumping too many hoops. Maybe, maybe not. There’s no prohibition against recreational properties having hydro.”
“Yay!”
“Hang on, though,” I say. “Zoey, maybe you should slow down, think about it. Just…take it one thing at a time.”
That warning bell in my gut is ringing even louder now.
Surf online. Anywhere she wants. Well, technically, she can. Of course.
She’s an adult, after all.
But that tendril of worry is digging even deeper now.
She took to her new iPhone like a pro, mastering texting in minutes on the way home in the truck the other day.
Which instantly made me feel weird. Worried.
Once she finds meat-markets online, like Tinder, how will she react to that?
The predators using that app will eat her alive.
And, she said she’s already proficient with a computer. She just hasn’t seen the worst of what the internet has to offer.
All the way on the long drive home from Vancouver, amidst her happy chatter as she enjoyed her new phone, my thoughts kept turning to worries about all the skeezy bottom-feeders online.
All the orbiters, the users, the abusers and the crazies. People she’d never be in contact with in real life would love to get their hooks into someone like her.
