Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Hurley
Like a blast from the past, Shenna Blake stands right in front of me.
After ten years, I still recognize the girl who made the whole class laugh daily with her antics.
The way Shenna would douse people with water during art classes, snap every crayon in the box, or trip over her own feet when she got called up to the stage during chapel to recite her verses. And when she didn’t know her verses, Principal Floydene’s face would puff up and turn beet red with anger, which made us all like Shenna even more.
She may have bottle blonde hair now, fake blue contacts, and lashes so thick and long that she could fly away when she blinks, but it’s definitely Shenna Blake.
She was tall back then but is now a full five foot ten, with long, muscular legs. My top lip sweats at the sight of them.
“What the heck are you doing in my store?” Shenna squawks in fear and outrage.
I laugh at the indignant girl I remember from years ago. So little has changed beneath that disguise.
“Your store? This is Jack’s store,” I inform her.
She squares her shoulders. “I’m the assistant manager. Mildred.”
Mildred? My ass.
I snort. “Since when?”
Her nostrils flare angrily. “Since an hour ago.”
I want to ask what in the hell she’s doing here, in Misty Mountain.
I’ve often wondered what happened to a lot of the kids I went to school with back in the days before I was shunned by the church.
I was cut off at 16, and I’ve been on my own ever since. I never expected to run into an old classmate here. I especially never expected the giraffe on roller skates to grow up so… grown-looking.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to explain yourself, or do I need to call Jack?”
“I don’t have to explain myself.”
“You’re breaking and entering,” she says.
“My ass. I have a key.”
She lowers her head and gives me her best intimidating stare. She looks like an adorable gremlin, and I bite back a laugh. “That would fall under the explaining yourself umbrella, buster.”
“Buster?”
“Well? Do I have to call the police, too?”
“I’m picking up my packages. Checking the list for new client sign-ups. There. I explained myself.”
I bend over and start to pick up the cans of chili beans rolling around.
She follows me to the shelf and tries to wrest the box of cans away from me, but I’m taller, bigger, and better at this game of “keep away.” Can’t she see that I’m helping?
I do my best to ignore her fussing and then, when finished, go on the hunt for my packages.
“Oh no you don’t. You don’t get to pilfer through the store’s stock room,” Shenna says.
I sigh and lean one hand against a grocery shelf of peanut butter. “Jack keeps my packages here for me. I pick them up whenever I want. That’s why I have a key.”
She squints. “Why would you come in after hours?”
Before I think twice about it, I blurt out, “So I don’t have to talk to people.”
Shenna crosses her arms, and the effect is to push out her medium-sized breasts that seem to be bound up in some kind of extra-tight sports bra. Not that I’m thinking of her undergarments.
“Are you him?” Shenna asks, her head tilting in the direction of the bulletin board.
“Yeah,” I grit out, wincing at the nickname Jack insisted on. He said advertising myself as “Mountain Man Hurley” would attract more clients looking for an authentic and unique experience. He says the name gives me an air of mystery. I hate to say it, but Jack is right. People pay exorbitant sums for a wilderness guide, and I’m happy to separate wealthy tourists from their money.
“Why don’t you use a Google form for sign-ups, like a normal human?”
“It’s all part of the mountain man charm,” I say, more grouchy than intended. Using web-based anything to collect information scares me, what can I say?.
Shenna raises an eyebrow. “You don’t look like a mountain man.”
“How does a mountain man look?”
“Long beard. Gray hair. Bad breath. Dirty. Scars from a bear attack, or three. Maybe missing a few teeth. The hair checks out, though,” she says, noting the shaggy mop and the five o’clock shadow.
In response, I step back, turn, and hitch up my flannel along with the undershirt, exposing my lower back.
“What are you…oh…” Shenna trails off, her eyes wide as she scans the marks on my torso. “Did it…hurt?”
“No, the grizzly and I just tickled each other and then we braided each other’s hair and ate pizza.”
“You don’t have to be so sarcastic,” she says.
I drop my shirt and turn back to face her. “Do I pass inspection or not? I gotta get my delivery, sweet cheeks.”
She sniffs as I step around her and she follows me into the stock room, brandishing a pen and a notepad. “Just documenting everything you take so I can double-check with Jack to make sure nothing goes missing.”
I ignore her as I grab the box containing my tubs of pea protein powder and vegan jerky.
“Um, what’s in those boxes?”
“Trust me,” I say. “Nothing that Jack keeps in stock here.”
“Fine. But I still have to make sure this is all above board with Jack.”
“Fine,” I echo back to her.
I should leave and forget I saw her. Every moment that passes, I’m reminded of my past. It’s a painful period that I’d rather forget.
And yet, I can’t bring my feet to leave.
Instead, I hang around the store, help Shenna stock the shelves, and generally lurk until she’s finished. Why? Hell if I know. I guess I feel like keeping her company. A person like her shouldn’t be alone after hours in a store with this much expensive equipment. What if it gets robbed?
Yeah right. There hasn’t been a reportable crime in this town since I’ve been living here.
I guess I stick around because it’s evident that Shenna could injure herself with the way she handles that dolly and all these heavy boxes.
Fortunately for me, Shenna doesn’t object too much to my presence.
Once or twice, she gestured too close to me while restocking the ready-to-eat meals and the instant mashed potatoes. I know I’m working on an empty stomach because my mouth salivates at the fruity scent of Shenna’s bare shoulder as she works alongside me. I must be craving grapefruit and berries. Weird.
Once we’re finished, she mumbles a thank you. “You didn’t have to stay to help me.”
I shrug and give her a halfhearted grunt. The way she stares makes me clam up.
I know I’m standing way too close to her while she’s trying to lock up the store. I can’t help myself. She smells…so damn good. Under the fruity perfume, she smells like baking bread. I don’t know if I’m turned on or hungry or both.
“You wanna get something to eat?” I ask her.
She turns to me after locking up, the two of us standing together awkwardly on the sidewalk.
“Do you mean like go on a date?”
How do I explain that I am not interested in dating her and am only concerned about her well-being? And I’m curious to talk to her and find out what she’s doing in Misty Mountain.
But I don’t want to spook her and scare her away with all these questions I have no business asking.
“Not a date. Coworkers getting a meal together after work.”
Shenna folds her arms over her chest. “That’s not very mountain man of you either. I thought you guys were supposed to be anti-social and off the grid. Not engaging in corporate culture and work gatherings.”
Her mouth twists in a reluctant smile. In response, I let out a sigh that’s too much on the growly side. “Just offering to buy you a hot meal from the Rusty Elk, that’s all.”
The comical grimace from her transforms her whole face. “Seeing as I recently got fired from there, it might be bad form.”
“Do I want to know why?”
She shakes her head. “I’d rather not relive it. Besides, I’m sure you’ll hear about it through the grapevine soon enough.”
“I don’t do gossip. But the offer still stands.”
I get the sense that it’s her pride more than anything else making her turn down my offer. “Thank you, but I’m tired, and I’m going back to my apartment to sleep. I have to be back at the store early tomorrow. See you around, Mountain Man Hurley.”
I watch Shenna saunter away through the village’s downtown. She’s still within view when I finish loading the boxes into the bed of my truck.
For reasons I can’t explain, I follow her home.
Maybe it’s just to make sure she arrives safely. That’s what I tell myself.
She lives in a third-floor walkup in one of those old prairie-style homes from the 1800s that have been remodeled and divided into five or six apartment units. I wait for the light to go on, and then I place a to-go order from the Rusty Elk.
I have nothing to go on other than she looks hungry. If she can’t show her face to the only full-service restaurant and bar in town, she’s going to be hurting for choices for a hot meal.
We don’t have a booming food delivery service in this town, so I hurry over to the Rusty Elk to pick up the order, then silently make my way up the apartment stairs, leave the bag of food by her door, and then ring the bell.
I’m gone before she comes to the door.
Why am I being so sneaky? I guess I want to respect her sense of pride. But deep down, I know it’s because I don’t want Shenna to know I’ve decided to keep an eye on her.
I strongly sense that Shenna — I mean Mlldred — would not like that. Not at all.
Mildred. She really is terrible at secret identities.