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Forbidden Mountain Page 6
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I could see his point, but at the same time, the world was changing fast and how long could we stay up on this mountain, isolated and alone? Growing up, I’d had a privileged life, but it was a secluded one, and it held its secrets. We had everything we ever wanted, money and cars, safety and a close family. But our wealth stifled and trapped us, and I’d grown up desperate to gain my freedom. It was too late for me. But what about the next generations?
“I just wish we could be normal,” I sighed.
“Normal?” dad spat. “You don’t wanna be normal. You wanna be rich, don’t ya?”
If I were honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I was starting to not give a damn about money, or about this mysterious mountain empire we’d created. I just wanted to be happy, and it took only a couple nights of beauty in my life to realize how much I’d missed out on things. But dad wouldn’t understand that. He just wanted to make money and drink it all away. He didn’t care about love anymore, or happiness or fresh experiences.
“I suppose so,” I lied to keep him quiet. “Yeah, I suppose so. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”
He watched me walk away, his drunken, bleary eyes not leaving the back of my head until I was out of sight. But even then, as I entered my bedroom, I imagined I could still feel them on me.
CHAPTER 13 – ABIGAIL
Something wasn’t right because my oatmeal tasted good. Everything did. Even the prune juice Martha demanded I drink was good. Everything was. The whole world was beautiful. Somehow, the cold wasn’t making me miserable anymore, but rather the snow was pretty and romantic. It covered the landscape like a white, velvet blanket.
The smell of the farm didn’t even bother me. For once, I didn’t notice it. Instead, I looked out the window and thought the animals that usually smelled so bad were cute. Martha was watching me as she scrubbed the dishes.
“What’s got you so happy?” she asked. “You’ve been staring out the window and smiling for a straight half hour.”
I noticed my reflection in the glass and reigned in the grin that was cutting my face in two.
“I’m just happy,” I said. “It’s so nice here.”
She squinted as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“If it were anyone else I’d ask if you’ve found God. But something tells me that’s not what’s making you so cheery.”
I chewed on the last mouthful of oatmeal and watched Bernard in the distance. He was driving his tractor toward the barn.
“Anyway, you keep that smile plastered on your face because we’re going out.”
“Out?”
“Yes, that’s what I said. We’re going to church. The girls there like you for some reason.”
“Wow, don’t sound so surprised.”
I was wrist deep in flour once again but still didn’t know what I was doing. Baking wasn’t my strong point, but neither was anything that took longer than two minutes to cook. Esme was beside me, putting her expert touches on a pie crust. All twisted up into an intricate pattern, it looked more like a work of art.
“Someone saw you,” she said, without looking up.
She twiddled a piece of pastry around her finger before placing into the centerpiece of her pie.
“What? I mean, I beg your pardon.”
“Someone saw you,” she repeated.
She pushed the pie across the counter and looked up to make sure no one was listening.
“My brother told me that his friend, Dylan saw you in his truck,” she whispered from behind her hand.
How? was all I could think. There was no one around for miles!
“Out at the lake,” she said as though reading my thoughts.
“The lake? But… nobody’s allowed out there. That’s Dyer territory.”
“And how would you know that?” she asked, with a hand on her hip.
“Um…”
“Anyway, there’s no point denying it. Dylan saw you kissing him. He was out poaching trout while you two were smooching.”
Smooching? What was this, grade school?
“Well, how about this? You don’t tell anyone about Jeremiah and me, and I’ll keep my mouth shut to make sure Dylan doesn’t get his ass filled with buckshot. Sound like a deal?”
She frowned and pulled at the tie on her apron.
“It’s a deal,” she said. “So, you did kiss him then?”
I wanted to deny it and tell her to mind her own business, but the smile on my face betrayed me.
“You did! You did!” she squealed.
She grabbed my arms and bounced up and down.
“What was it like?”
I thought back to the velvet touch of his lips and how he stroked my face. I remembered the smell of his skin and the warmth of his body.
“It was divine,” I swooned. “It was just…”
Magical? Perfect? Arousing?
There weren’t enough words to explain how amazing it was.
“It was the best,” I said.
She let out a deep sigh and fell onto her stool.
“I can see the love in your eyes,” she said. “You’re falling for him.”
“What? No! That’s crazy. I barely know him.”
“But you know him well enough to kiss him,” she said.
I knew she was right. There was something inside me that told me this was different and special. Just hearing his name made my stomach do somersaults. I’d never felt anything like it. There were times when I thought I was in love and there were people that I’d said those three precious words to, but I’d never felt a fraction of this for them.
Something deep down inside me told me that this was the real thing.
“You’re smiling again,” said Esme.
“Am I?”
I caught my reflection in the polished door of the oven and saw I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I also noticed everyone was staring at me.
“Sorry, I need some air,” I said, and whipped off my apron.
Outside, I leaned against the church and looked up to the mountain. From down here, I could see why it held so much mystery. Shrouded in dense fog, it looked as though it belonged to a different realm.
He’s up there, I thought. I wonder if he’s thinking about me too.
CHAPTER 14 – JEREMIAH
I couldn’t get her out of my head. The touch of her lips was still on mine, the smell of her hair still fresh in my mind. My hands felt so cold and empty without her in them.
“What’s got into you?”
Nathan was behind me, still working on Bernard’s truck. He emerged from under the hood with oil on his face. He wiped it with the back of his hand and lit a cigarette.
“Nothing,” I said.
“You’ve been staring down at Bambridge for like ten minutes,” he said. “You looking for something?”
“No,” I replied, a little too quickly.
He slammed down the hood and sauntered over, blowing out smoke that melted into the fog.
“Dad told me about her, Caitlyn’s daughter,” he said.
“Well, I wish he hadn’t. Don’t you guys get fed up with gossiping about me?”
“We’re just worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
He blew out more smoke. It hung in the air, clumping together as it nearly froze. I kept staring down into the village. I could make out the spire of the church through the trees. At the back near the churchyard was a figure leaned against the wall. I squinted to see better, but Nathan interrupted my concentration.
“I ever tell you about Amelia?”
I gave him a quizzical look.
“No. Who’s that?”
He threw his cigarette butt to the ground. It sizzled in the snow.
“Met her when I was twenty-one.”
I cast my mind back to when he was that age. It felt like a lifetime ago.
“You were spending the summer down south, weren’t you?”
“You’ve got a good memory.” He smiled.
“Yeah, that’s right. I was going through my rebellious phase and decided I was too good for this mountain and all the small-minded people on it. I thought I was going to hit the road and never come back. I was working as a pool boy in a country club that summer when- “
“Wait, you were working in a country club. Excuse me if I feel the need to call bullshit on that.”
He gave me a playful shove and laughed.
“Hey, I didn’t say I was playing golf there. I was just walking around handing out towels to stuck-up men with too much time on their hands. Anyway, that was the summer I met the love of my life. Or at least she would have been if I wasn’t such a coward.”
I gave him another puzzled look. He was the least romantic person in our family and always seemed so happy being alone.
“I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I met Amelia during that summer. She was the funniest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. We made love in the towel cupboards during lunch break.”
“Woah, too much information.”
“And she wanted me to move in with her. There was even talk that maybe we could get engaged.”
This was all new to me and hearing about him in this new light made me uncomfortable. I was waiting to hear when he was going to get to point.
“So, what happened? How come you’ve never mentioned her before?”
He licked his chapped lips and scratched his head under his hat.
“I just couldn’t break away from this place and dad and you guys. Mom was ill at the time remember?”
“She didn’t have long left.”
He nodded and furrowed his brow.
“And I had to come back.”
“And she didn’t want to come with you?” I asked.
“She wouldn’t have been welcome.” He sighed. “You know what dad’s like.”
He looked deep into my eyes then glanced away, ashamed.
“She was the one that got away,” he said. “I always wondered what happened to her. We could have been so happy.”
There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. I didn’t know if it was because I felt terrible for my brother missing out on a chance at love or whether it was that I could see so much of myself in him.
“What I’m trying to say is…”
He reached out and gripped my arm.
“Don’t let her get away. Don’t listen to what dad says. Your happiness is more important than his ancient, small town ideas of what love should look like.”
I looked back down at the church. The figure was walking back inside, its features obscured by the fog and the distance, but I recognized the long hair, the walk, the swing of the hips.
“Thanks,” I said and smacked him on the back. “I don’t wanna regret a thing.”
CHAPTER 15 – ABIGAIL
I was watching the pie cook in the oven through the glass door. It was the closest thing I’d had to television in days. I’d never been so bored in all my life. All we did in this place was roll out pastries and bake and shovel dried fruit into the pie tins for men that didn’t seem to appreciate it. None of us were eating these pies, though I couldn’t help but notice the size of Bernard’s stomach or how there was always a smattering of jam on his chin.
Behind me, I could hear a flurry of activity. There were hushed voices and rushed footsteps, the sound of a banging door.
“You have a visitor,” came a voice from behind me.
I turned around and saw Esme with a terrified look in her eyes. At first, I thought something terrible had happened.
“A visitor?”
“It’s him,” she whispered. “He’s out the front. Everyone can see him!”
I pushed my way through the girls and hurried out the front of the church where Martha and her friends were shaking their heads and tutting. Through the crack in the door, I could make out the front of his truck.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Martha was tugging at the back of my sweater, her nails digging into my spine. I was at the end of my rope with her. She wasn’t telling me what to do anymore.
“Get off me,” I hissed and batted her hand away.
“You’re not going out to meet him.”
“I am, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You know nothing about him.”
“I know that he’s dangerous. A madman.”
“You don’t know shit!”
Everyone gasped and reeled back.
I wasn’t welcome in this place, and neither was Jeremiah. That thought propelled me out the door and into his arms.
He hadn’t even got out the driver’s seat before I’d flung myself at him.
“You shouldn’t be down here where everyone can see you,” I said, and he wrapped his burly arms around me and kissed the top of my head.
“I don’t care anymore,” he said. “Let them look.”
The village shrunk away as we ascended the mountain. My heart was beating faster the higher we drove, my head getting light with the excitement.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” I said.
He said nothing but braked hard outside of his house and pulled me toward him. He kissed me, this time hard, and his tongue brushed mine. My body was ready for him in an instant, every cell of me reacting to his touch. Deep within me, a heat was building, and I squeezed my thighs together.
“Are we alone?” I asked, gasping in between kisses.
“Yes,” he said. “I made sure of it.”
We blustered in through his front door, pushing and pulling at each other. Our coats were the first to hit the floor, then our boots and sweaters falling in a trail as we climbed the stairs. I pushed him against the wall, thrusting my hands up beneath his shirt. My fingertips tingled as they felt the hardness of his abs as they rippled. I dragged my fingernails down over his chest. He let out a groan, his fingers tangling themselves in my hair.
With his lips still pressed against mine, he lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pushed him against me. He felt how much I wanted him, felt my heat as it sank into him.
He ripped my shirt up over my head and we tumbled down onto the bed. We lay coiled around one another, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. Our clothes lay scattered around us.
I cried out when he tore my bra from my shoulders and latched his mouth onto a nipple. I moaned when his fingers worked their way between my legs. He was firm but gentle, commanding but soft.
I let him take control of me, knowing that he’d never hurt me. As I opened my legs and looked into his eyes, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of trust, of safety, of being protected by the same arms that so many people were afraid of.
He entered me slowly, his eyes still penetrating mine. His hands were on my waist, holding me in place as my fingers stroked the sides of his face, feeling that sharp jawline of his and his scratchy, red beard.
He was bigger than I imagined, bigger than anything I’d experienced. But there was only a moment of pain, which quickly gave way to exquisite pleasure as his girth filled me up. I felt as though I were cocooned in bliss. He moaned as he thrust into me, crying out loudly when I raised my hips to meet his. His voice grew louder when I pulled his buttocks in toward me, wanting him as deep in me as possible. He buried his face in my neck when I matched him thrust for thrust. I found myself getting wetter as he plunged inside me.
We moved in an ever quickening rhythm, our bodies growing more frantic, more desperate. I wanted him deeper, harder. He didn’t hold back. Then came the critical moment, when both our bodies were one, when we shared the same breath, the same heat, the same sweat. I looked into his face just as his eyes rolled back into his head. Then I shook, a tidal wave of pure pleasure invading every fiber of my being. He yelled as he ejaculated, his fingers digging into my breasts as he thrust one last time.
I didn’t know how much time had passed. The sun became lower in the sky, and the room became shrouded in the indigo of the twilight hours. There were no words between us. There did
n’t need to be.
As our bodies cooled, we held each other closer. I lay my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. As I closed my eyes, my mind was calm for the first time since I could remember. Abstract images began to float through my head as sleep came, and dreams intertwined themselves with waking thoughts.
I was on a ship, rising and falling with the waves. Each swell of water breathed into me, held me, made me feel as though nothing else mattered.
I was wide awake, but I didn’t know why. There was a loud noise, shouting, the sound of footsteps crunching on frozen leaves. It was still dark outside as I looked over at the clock. It was three in the morning. Who were these people?
As I sat up, I heard their anger. There were more voices, dozens of them, growing angrier by the second. Scared, I reached out for Jeremiah but felt none of the warmth of his body on the bare mattress.
It was then that I saw him at the end of the bed. He already had a shotgun in his hand.
“What’s going on?”
My voice quivered as it came out of me. I didn’t even know why I was scared, but I could feel the rage and a sense of danger in the air.
“Trespassers,” was all he could say.
And he was gone, pulling on his coat and boots as he made for the door. I pulled the bedsheets around my body and made my way as slowly as possible to the window, one foot in front of the other, terrified of what I’d see when I got there.
As I pulled back the curtain, I heard Bernard’s voice the loudest.
“I know you’re in there!” he shouted.
I looked down and saw him standing at the front door. There were people with him. So many people I assumed it was the whole town. What were they all doing here? They couldn’t just be here for me, could they?
Pushing up the window, I leaned out.
“You’re damn right I’m here,” I said.
Bernard looked up at me. There was a look of betrayal in his eyes.