The Haunting of the Mountain (Mountain Men of Whispering Winds #9)

4. Stone

Chapter 4

Stone

Thump! Crack! Thwack!

I’ve split damn near two cords of wood but I’m still on edge. I wipe my brow, glancing around my land as the cool Fall air chills my sweat-soaked skin.

I’ve been at it for a few hours now. Spent most of the morning limbing and then lugging a dead tree that was blocking the road. Probably should’ve used my chainsaw but I wanted to use my hands, so I wouldn’t use them on Kyla. But it feels useless. I can’t stop these feelings. The need to feel her soft curves beneath my fingers. Gripping her hips. Molding my hands around her breasts.

Jesus. Damn near kissed her last night. I wanted to kiss her when we were on my bed. Wanted to push her onto her back, climb on top of her, and claim those lips.

But I know I can’t. She’s far too young. And she won’t be around much longer, even though I exaggerated how haunted this place might be in hopes of prolonging her stay.

I lean over, grab a log, and place it on the stump before rearing back and slamming my axe clean through. I repeat the action a few more times, breaking the remaining pieces down. After I finish, I turn around and see Kyla staring right at me. Drains the air out of my lungs, and I feel like I might faint.

She’s a damn sight, gorgeous as she stands there on my porch. Want to call it our porch. Want to call this cabin ours. I shake my head, wiping my brow as I let my axe fall and head over to her.

“Mornin’,” I say, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “Or I guess afternoon.”

She’s wearing ripped jeans and a loose sweater that hangs dangerously low off her shoulders. Very dangerously.

“Good morning,” she says, folding and unfolding her arms. Squirming. She reaches over to grab the column but misses, stumbling sideways.

Before I have time to think, I’m already reacting, leaping up the steps a couple at a time before I wrap my arm around her.

“Are you okay? Are you sick? Do you need a doctor?”

My mind’s racing. My heart’s pounding and it’s not from chopping wood. I’m not sure it’s from seeing Kyla stumble. It’s from being this close to her gorgeous face, feeling her perfect body in my arms. Those perfect, pillowy lips.

“I’m fine,” she says. “I haven’t eaten. Just a little lightheaded.”

My nerves relax. That’s probably it. No need to worry, but I’ll take care of her.

“Come inside,” I say, guiding her back inside. I want to grab her hand, but I’m afraid I might lead her somewhere else if I touch her again. “I’ll fix something up for you.”

“Okay,” she says, following beside me.

“Do you like eggs?”

“Yes.”

“Bacon?”

“Yes.”

“Hash?”

“Yes.”

“Squirrel?”

“Ye-Wait what?”

“Just checking.”

I pull out a chair for her. Her cheeks flush and I smile. I want to reach out, cup her face, and kiss her better. I want to do a lot of things, but I know I shouldn’t. I head for the fridge but I think I might have to change plans. I’m low on everything.

“On second thought,” I say, turning to Kyla. “How about we head into town? Breakfast won’t be in the cards for us unless you’re partial to stale peanut butter sandwiches.”

She smiles and my heart skips a beat or two as I close the fridge and head for her.

“The town has great food, and we could get a headstart on that tour I promised.”

Her smile deepens. “I thought you were joking last night.”

“About what?”

“Giving me a tour. I thought you’d want me out of here.”

You fascinate me. Captivate me. There’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight.

I shake my head. “I don’t say anything I don’t mean. If you’re looking for ghosts, I’m your man. If you’re looking for a lackluster homemade breakfast, I’m your man too.”

I’m your man regardless.

She snorts. “Okay, so what do you have planned?”

“After a quick lunch at Windy Brews. I’ll give you a guided tour of the town. Been here my entire life, so there’s no place I don’t know.”

“What about the lumber mill?”

“What about it?”

“Your nephew mentioned it was haunted. And that this cabin used to house some of the workers. He weaved a compelling story. Is there any truth to it?”

Wes… kid’s more trouble than he’s worth right now. Then again, he brought me Kyla.

“I’ve heard rumors. Some strange sightings. Basic stuff. Can’t speak to all of it but,” I say, swallowing. “This mountain has a history. The town too. I can’t think of a better town that might have some supernatural activity.”

“What about cults?”

“Heard about those rumors too, but there’s not much more to it.”

She hums. “Sounds like something someone who’s part of a cult might say.”

“Well, if I’m in the cult, I’m missing the meetings.”

She nods.

“I think the library will have some answers for you. There’s a historical society as well. The old cemetery’s close by and you could get one of those EVPs.”

She gapes at me, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Did a little research myself this morning while you were asleep. Interesting stuff. You guys use recorders to see if ghosts communicate with you.”

She smiles. “Yeah… yeah, we do.”

“How’s that sound, Kyla? Got ourselves a deal?”

I offer my hand to her. She stares at it and then at me.

“I think I’m the one coming out on the better end.”

I shake my head. She has no idea. She’s offering me her time. She’s offering me a chance to be near her. Touch her. And maybe, if I’m lucky, convince her to stay a little longer. There’s no price I wouldn’t pay for that.

For her.

“I don’t mind,” I say.

She grabs my hand and I pull her up. I almost hug her but I’m a sweaty, hairy mess.

“I guess you’re stuck with me a little while longer.”

Stuck with Kyla? Nothing better.

“Is it always this festive?”

I glance around downtown Whispering Winds. Can’t say I noticed any of the decorations until now. My attention has been focused entirely on Kyla. Everything about her demands it.

“Afraid so. I’m surprised they haven’t decorated for Christmas yet.” I glance around, scratching the back of my neck. “Seems they start earlier and earlier each year.”

I bend low as I step onto the sidewalk, my head barely missing the string of lights shaped like bats, pumpkins, and ghosts. And when I turn, I damn near trip over a hay bale and the random assortment of gourds strewn about.

Kyla laughs and then grabs my arm as I regain my balance. “Easy there. I see the town’s not built for a man your size.”

I try to respond but it’s lodged in my throat. Can’t think straight with Kyla’s hands on me.

“Look out!” Kyla hops to the other side of the sidewalk as a half dozen or so kids dressed as pirates, zombies, and an assortment of superheroes come barreling down past us.

I damn near take off running after them for nearly knocking my girl over, but when I see Kyla laughing, it soothes me.

“Sorry,” a stressed-looking man says, jogging after the pack of wild kids as his face paint melts down his face.

“Guess we should get inside before the next wave comes,” Kyla says.

I smile. “Like I said, this town takes holidays seriously.”

“I think it’s great. It’s not even Halloween and everyone’s dressed up. I feel a little out of place. You…” She adds, humming as she sizes me up and down. “Would be a great ’Squatch. Take off that shirt. Rip up those pants. Some mud and dirt. What do you think?”

I think I want to wrap my hands around your waist, pull you against me, and finally taste those lips. Instead, I make a throaty sound as Kyla bites down softly on her bottom lip.

“Think that’s me after nearly every excursion on the mountain.”

“So you’re saying you’re the one responsible for all the new Sasquatch sightings in this area?”

“Could be. Could be any of the other mountain men in the area.”

“Is that what you call yourselves? Mountain men?”

I’d rather be called yours.

“Sure,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat as we head toward Windy Brews.

Kyla’s head is on a swivel as we navigate the busy sidewalk.

“You know, Nell and I thought this town was a little creepy when we first got here. But I think I might be coming around.”

I snort. “Why’s that?”

“Seemed a little too perfect. Like it was hiding something.”

I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her through another wave of costumed kids. It’s still there after we pass because I can’t help myself.

“It wasn’t always like this,” I say. “Some might’ve called it a sleepy mountain town. Not much but Main Street and the mountains. But with the surrounding areas being built up, we started seeing more tourists. More money. More people. More businesses.”

“More holiday decorations,” Kyla adds as I duck beneath a plastic pumpkin.

“We’ve always decorated like this. Something in this town’s DNA.”

“Well, I’m coming around to it.”

There’s a pinprick of hope inside me, widening by the minute.

“How’s she doing after that storm?” I try to keep my voice smooth..

“She’s fine. I texted with her this morning. Are the trails here dangerous?” She asks abruptly, stopping as she turns to me.

I swallow. “They can be. Why do you ask?”

“Her guide canceled on her so she decided to head up onto the mountain by herself. She’s not going off the beaten path. She’s not crazy. Usually…”

Happens every year. Tourists going off on their own without a guide. I rub my beard, trying to think of a way to tell her without worrying her.

“Trouble is that the beaten path can get wild fast, especially after a storm. Still in contact with her? If you can’t get through we might have to change plans. I’ll take you up the mountain to find her.”

Her face pales. Feels like mine does too.

“I’ll call her,” she says, whipping out her phone.

Kyla frantically taps on her screen as she starts pacing in front of Windy Brews while I watch helplessly. Something sour roils in my stomach.

A few moments later, she jumps up and screams into her phone. “Nell! Are you okay? Where are you?”

They talk for a few minutes and slowly, her demeanor shifts from concerned to relaxed. After she hangs up, she walks over to me.

“She’s okay. She wasn’t but now she is.”

“What?”

“You were right about it being dangerous. She lost her way and ended up off the beaten path. She injured her leg but luckily someone found her and he’s making sure she gets back here alright.”

“That’s great. Now how about we?—“

My stomach grumbles and she laughs.

“I’m with you.” She pats my stomach and says, “Let’s get some food. I’m dying to see what else this town has in store for me. My treat.”

I shake my head. “No need.”

She tugs at my arm as we head toward the front door to Windy Brews.

“I crashed your cabin, ate your cobbler, and then had you chase after me in the pouring rain.”

“Blinded me with holy water too.”

She blushes. “See? It’s the least I can do to pay you back.”

A kiss would be more than sufficient. I’d be in debt.

I pull the door to Windy Brews open, and she slides in front of me, her scent wafting in my face as I take a deep breath.

“I don’t mind the excitement,” I say, but Kyla is already ahead of me, bursting with glee as she looks around the cafe.

Nearly every inch of Windy Brews is covered in decorations. Black spiders climb the walls in all directions with streaks of puffy white webs between them. Candles and broomsticks and cauldrons galore. Kids are running around in their costumes, clutching small orange, black, and purple bags filled to the brim with candy.

“I feel like I should’ve brought a costume.”

“There’s a store for that down the road.”

She glances back at me over her shoulder and beams that perfect smile of hers, constricting my chest and abdomen and making it hard to breathe for a few moments.

“I don’t doubt it.”

And as I watch her move to the counter, still reeling from the effect she has on my body, there’s one thing that’s not a doubt in my mind. She’s mine. And I’m not going to let her go.

“Black Death?” I ask after taking another sip of my coffee.

“Yeah, and I got it extra spooky,” Kyla says, licking the whipped cream from her lips.

What I wouldn’t give to do that for her.

“Sorry,” I mumble, damn near leveling a man leaning against the lampost as we walk down the sidewalk.

Kyla laughs. “Did you just apologize to a scarecrow?”

I glance back and see that the man is nothing more than old clothing stuffed with straw and a kinda creepy burlap face.

“Guess the coffee isn’t doing the trick. Maybe I should’ve asked for it extra spooky.” I give her a light bump with my hip and she smiles, taking another sip. “What is it anyway?”

“Hot chocolate with extra ghost marshmallows and whipped cream. It’s delicious. ”

Not as delicious as those lips.

The thoughts have been coming harder and faster. Everything she does drives me wild. Talking with her. Walking with her. Doing anything with her.

“How far is the library?” she asks.

I take another swig of my coffee. “Not too far.”

I might take a circuitous route just to spend more time with her. Kyla licks the rim of her cup and I damn near have a heart attack, spitting the coffee out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop myself.

“Are you okay?” Kyla asks, turning to me.

“Just saw the Festival is up and running. Been a while.”

“You don’t strike me as the Festival kind of guy,” she says, narrowing her eyes.

“What kind of guy do I strike you as?”

I don’t exactly live a normal life, but I think that’s something we have in common. Ghost hunting in a random cabin in the woods while her best friend hunts for Sasquatch. I’m curious about what she thinks of me.

Kyla opens her mouth, closes it as she considers something, and then says, “Let’s just say I don’t see you bobbing for apples or getting your face painted like a cat.”

“You don’t seem like the type either.”

“You’d be right.”

“Maybe we should do something out of our comfort zones.”

It comes out before I have the chance to think. And my hand’s on her arm before I have the chance to stop myself. Tugging her closer to me. It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I can’t control myself.

She gasps softly before biting down on her bottom lip. “What did you have in mind?”

I’m hanging on by a thread. I barely resist taking that bottom lip into my mouth. Sucking on it, before tasting her fully.

I swallow. “I think you know.”

She whimpers, licking her lips as she stares up at me.

But then those damn kids knock into us a few moments later, followed by another half-hearted apology by their chauffeur chasing after them.

Guess I’ll have to wait to taste those lips.