Chapter 9 Rae
RAE
The drive was beautiful.
Tall evergreens lined the black asphalt, seemingly growing taller with each mile I put behind me.
The sky was a bleak, grayish color, worsening as I climbed in altitude.
Memories of when I’d driven this dangerous road haunted me, rankling as the cringe factor surfaced.
I had no idea where Davis had lived, so I would drive it for hours, thinking fate would lead me to him.
Except it never did, and I just ended up wasting my time and gas.
It was mortifying remembering that period of my life…
and thinking over the dinner with Davis the other night only reinforced the sentiment.
It wasn’t just the humiliation from being obsessed with him; it was the fact that he’d gotten to witness my shame firsthand in that library, while confirming how pathetic he’d known I was all along.
It was still a fire in my veins and smoke in my lungs, leaving me burning and choking on my past, because Davis had a front row seat to my downfall. It was even worse that he didn’t seem to remember me now—that or he was just lying—but why act nice, almost flirty even, if he did remember?
The man who had secretly invited me to meet with him and then hooked up with someone in front of me wouldn’t casually ask where I had been the last four years with that easy smile. He just wouldn’t.
It was a few more miles before I realized I was gripping the wheel with so much force that my knuckles were white. Deep down, I knew I had to start getting past this anger and hurt. It wasn’t healthy.
A clearing in the tree line caught my eye, distracting me from my negative thoughts.
It was so breathtaking that I pulled the car over along a spacious viewpoint and parked.
Pushing the door open and slowly walking to the edge of the overhang, I looked down, seeing a serpentine river.
White rocks littered each side of the water and sprawled in every direction.
The quiet that cradled the world was so magnificent it made my eyes water.
I had lived in the shadow of Mount Macon my entire life, and I had never once hiked its trails, or stopped to take in its unending beauty.
I had never stood on the edge of the wilderness, looked down and felt so hopeful.
It was as though every gust of wind was blowing fresh air into my lungs for a future I could actually be excited about.
This sacred place had no past, and the only future would consist of the yellowing of leaves or white tips of the trees.
Rubbing my arms, I closed my eyes and breathed.
I stood there on the edge of what seemed to make up my whole world and inhaled. With every breath, I released pieces of my past. Not all of it, but something was left there, and for the first time in four long years, I felt lighter.
Mrs. Kuami wore soiled overalls and a straw hat.
She had a small cottage, with free range goats and chickens which sprawled over nearly every inch of her small driveway and yard.
She offered me tea, which I accepted, knowing part of this delivery service would be a way to socialize with the forgotten men and women on Mount Macon. Surely they had to be lonely up here.
Which only proved right as Mrs. Kuami droned on and on about her late husband and her son, who was thinking of moving to Alaska. After about forty minutes, I apologized and told her I had to get going. I still had other deliveries to get out of the way.
The day went on as I continued further up the mountain.
Ford and Mr. Carlson both had wooden boxes set up for the case of groceries, with a walkie left near the front of the gate.
All I had to do was inform them their order had arrived.
Mr. Carlson had even left a tip tied to a river rock for me, which I had put inside the cup holder of my parent’s car.
I’d use the twenty to help buy a few groceries for the house or maybe just grab dinner for them sometime.
My last stop was at the very top of the mountain, my logic slightly failing as I continued up the grade. I definitely should have started with the furthest house first then worked my way down.
It was nearly four in the afternoon when I started internally kicking myself for saving the furthest for last. I was trying to gauge whether or not the customer would want to engage in small talk merely based on their last name, but the packing slip for the last delivery was blank.
Something I hadn’t realized before.
Keeping my eyes on the road, while quickly flicking to the packing slip, I realized they’d filled out everything else on the sheet, making it seem complete, which is why I had missed it, but sure enough there wasn’t a name listed. First or last.
“Shit.”
I’d have to just let my parents work it out, I had the address at least, so I knew they would be expecting me.
The client lived about twenty miles up the mountain, so it wasn’t a crazy venture to get there, especially without snow on the roads, but it was still a drive. After about thirty minutes, I began to slow down and watch for the big tree and iron gate my mom had told me would act as a marker.
Pulling to a stop in front of the gate, I parked and slowly opened my door to get out.
There was a latch that had to be pulled open to go up the driveway.
The feel of steel pranced along my fingertips as I lifted and pushed the gate until there was enough of an opening for my car to go through, then I got back inside and drove up the path.
It was mostly gravel, with tall spires of trees that lined the narrow drive all the way up to a curve, where it evened out into a large opening.
Leaning forward, I gaped at the massive, two-story house sitting in front of me.
It was white, with attractive black shutters.
The paint seemed fresh, and the windows on the top floor looked clean and clear, complete with gauzy white curtains.
A porch swing hung to the left, and two chairs dotted the right.
Off to the side of the house was a double garage, and on the other side was what looked like a large shop.
All of the siding and shutters matched, making it look like a mountain aesthetic dream.
That, paired with the trees and mountain peak as a backdrop, made me want to groan in pity for myself.
I wanted this: a secluded mini mansion with matching outlier buildings and a deep inset porch where I could watch the snow fall while bundled under a blanket.
I wanted to wake up every morning to that view.
“Some people are so fucking lucky,” I sighed, parking somewhat far from the porch, so I didn’t seem intrusive.
The back hatch slowly opened and I exited, walking around the car.
The plan I had set up in my head was that I would set the boxes on the wide porch, and then knock two seconds before making a run for it back toward the car.
Maybe I’d throw a rock at the door once I was in the car and then just speed off, that way I didn’t have to interact with whoever lived here, since I had no idea who it was.
My mind was busy as my hands grappled for the first box; I completely missed the sound of a screen door snapping shut.
“Hey, thanks for driving this all the way up here, I really appreciate it,” a deep voice called out, laden with a roughness that belonged up here, as if his voice was birthed in one of the deep caverns, locked away in a mountain.
He didn’t sound old, he sounded… hot. Alarm ripped through me.
I moved so I could convince my eyes that that voice didn’t belong to who I thought it did.
My heart sputtered as panic seized it in a vise-like grip, the box slipping from my hands as I stared at Davis Brenton, the man I had so rudely told off just days before.
With his box of groceries sprawled all over the gravel, I stared at his proximity, and how his boots kept increasing in steps, bringing him closer. Suddenly, I had to get away from him any way possible, so I went to my knees and started repacking his groceries.
“Shit,” I murmured, gently tugging at the carton of berries that had busted open.
Large hands were suddenly reaching for the items from me, setting them into the box that had been turned upright. My face was blotchy—I could feel it as the heat in my chest invaded the upper part of my body.
Why had he placed an order, knowing I would be the one to deliver it?
God, this was embarrassing. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to look up.
“Rae, it’s fine.” His soothing voice cooled the fire in my veins, but tears still clogged my eyes just from sheer humiliation. It wasn’t about the berries, or the groceries…it was still just him.
“Sorry, here. I’ll just get out of here.” I stood briskly, slamming the top of my head right into the metal frame of the hatch door. Damn it, stupid goose egg car.
“Shit, are you okay?” Davis asked.
Rubbing my head and closing my eyes, I made some sound that it was okay, but damn, it hurt. A dull throb was pulsing in the crown of my head, radiating down to my ears and neck.
“Let me see.” His body was nearly flush against mine, and my eyes flew open.
That navy gaze was narrowed in concern, his dark green shirt complementing the tan skin stretched along the prominent veins in his forearms. A lump formed in my throat as I stood there, feeling the heat from his body in the air around me.
I had to get some space from him, but at the moment I couldn’t move, so I dropped my eyes to the gravel at our feet.
His large hands went up to my hair, gently prodding where I hit the hatch.
“It’s fine,” I muttered, but the pain was a searing stinging sensation along my scalp, and I couldn’t stop myself from jerking away when his fingers tested the injury.
Davis let out a hiss. “There’s blood, Rae…you need to come inside so we can get this cleaned up.”
That would be an automatic no from me. I instantly began shaking my head when Davis’s fingers caught my chin in a gentle grip.
“I’m not asking.”
Before I could say anything more, my feet were swept out from under me, and the graying sky was stretched overhead as Davis walked with me, tucked snug against his chest, into his house. This was my high school fantasy made real, but now it felt like a nightmare…a long, humiliating nightmare.