MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN Page 8

  Why him? she thought desperately. Out of all the nice, openhearted guys there are in the big, wide world, why did it have to be him? I can't do this, I simply cannot do this.

  But, somehow, she did do it. She waited on the customers and bantered with the regulars while Jared mixed the drinks and kept the bar looking shipshape. And within an hour or so, she found she was almost able to forget what he'd looked like, magnificent in the moonlight, as he feigned sleep in her spare bed just two nights ago. Not to mention the shameless way she'd responded the next morning when he kissed her at the kitchen door.

  And since it was Sunday and a little slower than the night before, Eden was able to turn the place over to Jared at eleven and go home. That spared them those moments alone together that couldn't be avoided when she stayed to the very end.

  The next day was Monday and she didn't have to work. Eden puttered around the cabin in the morning and then drove to Grass Valley to make the bank deposit. Since Oggie had been released from the hospital, she stopped by Delilah's house to see him in the afternoon. The old dear was as sweet and amusing as ever.

  But she was nervous through the whole visit, fearing that Jared might drop in. She would have felt so awkward, having to sit and make conversation with Oggie, while Jared stood there and glowered, or acted impatient for her to be gone, or worst of all, behaved as if he couldn't care less whether she was there or not.

  When Amy appeared with baby Bathsheba to say hi to Grandpa Oggie, Eden took her chance to make a quick getaway. She went home, where she did her laundry and cleaned up the cabin.

  Laurie, who was working full-time for the summer at the restaurant where she and Eden had met, called from Sacramento in the evening.

  "Hey, pal. I just talked to Heather. She says Great-uncle Oggie shot himself in the foot."

  Eden, who'd been feeling a little down, perked up at the sound of her friend's voice. "Yes. It's true. The poor old dear."

  "Have you seen him yet?"

  "Oggie? Um-hmm. Yesterday and today. He's doing fine. Driving everyone nuts, of course. But that's to be expected."

  "Yeah. I'll bet. I've got a day off Wednesday, so I figure I'll drive up and drop in on him."

  "He'll love that."

  "Heather also said her dad wasn't too thrilled to hear his cabin was rented."

  "You could say that."

  "So. What do you think of him?"

  "Who?"

  "C'mon, Eden. Heather's wild-man father. I know you're stuck working with him until Oggie's better. Heather told me that, too."

  Eden felt her spirits sinking again. There was just no escaping Jared Jones. Either she was working with him, dreaming about him, or discussing him with one of his relatives. In fact, now that she thought about it, she realized what a bind she was in. The friends she'd made over the past several months were wonderful. But unfortunately, they all seemed to be related to the man she was trying not to think about.

  "Eden?"

  "What?"

  "I asked what you think of Cousin Jared."

  "Of Jared?"

  "Are you feeling all right?"

  "Fine. I'm just fine. And I think your cousin takes some getting used to."

  "Oh, Eden. You really are a sweetheart. He's driving you up the wall, right? But you're determined to make the best of the situation, for Oggie's sake."

  "Well…"

  "Hey. Say no more. I know cousin Jared. He's just one of those guys who was born about a century too late. He should be out fighting mountain lions with his bare hands, building log cabins with only an ax, settling the west. You know, stuff like that."

  "Right. It's so limiting for him, to have to act like a reasonable human being."

  "Oh, wow. You are having a rough time with him."

  Eden sighed. "Oh, I'll get through it. One way or another."

  "Eden?"

  "What?"

  "Is there something … going on here?"

  Eden could have kicked herself. Laurie wasn't her best friend for nothing. Laurie sensed things. Eden should have been more circumspect. Venting her frustrations about Jared had been foolish.

  "Eden?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Did you hear my question?"

  "Yes. I heard you." Eden swallowed. "And what do you mean, going on?"

  "Honestly." Laurie sounded mildly annoyed. "I mean, is there something romantic going on between you and Jared?"

  "Who said that?"

  "Nobody. You just seem…"

  "What? I seem what?"

  "A little defensive about him."

  "Defensive? I am not defensive. I'm really not. Not at all."

  "Okay, okay."

  Eden knew she should change the subject right there, but she wanted to make certain Laurie got her point loud and clear. "How could there be anything going on between your cousin and me?"

  "Well, I was only—"

  "He's old enough to be my father."

  "Well, not quite. I mean, you're twenty-six and he's forty. That's fourteen years. I suppose technically, a guy can be a father at fourteen, but that would have meant he'd have been about thirteen when he—"

  "Why are we talking about this?"

  "Well, Eden. You said—"

  "I said there's nothing whatsoever going on between your cousin and me. He's too old for me and he has a terminal bad attitude."

  "He is kind of surly." Laurie was trying to be fair.

  "And he's been divorced twice."

  "Oh, come on," Laurie said. Eden could tell by her friend's tone that she shouldn't have brought up both divorces. "That's not fair. His first divorce doesn't count and you know it. He and Sally remarried and things were going just fine between them when—"

  "Laurie. Why are we talking about this? I don't want to talk about this."

  "Eden, I—"

  "I mean it. I really don't."

  "Sheesh. I've never heard you like this. You've never been one to let a man bother you. I mean, let's be frank here. You hardly even date."

  "I'm a businesswoman," Eden said, as if that explained everything. "I've been busy all my life, making a place for myself. I don't have time for casual relationships with men. I've told you that."

  "Okay, fine. All I'm saying is, this is me. Your best friend. If I'm nosing around where I shouldn't be, I'm sorry. But please remember I'm here, if you need me. And I really can keep my mouth shut in terms of the family, if that's what's worrying you."

  Eden felt contrite. Laurie was right. If Eden couldn't trust her own best friend, where did that leave her?

  "Thanks, pal," she said. "I'll remember that."

  "Good."

  "And, the truth is…"

  "Yeah?"

  "The sad truth is, there's nothing to tell."

  "What's nothing, exactly?"

  "Zero. Zip. Jared and I have an understanding."

  "Yuk. Sounds grim."

  "We work together a few hours a night. And that's all."

  "But you want more?"

  "Oh, Laurie."

  "I'm listening."

  "I'm attracted him…"

  "But?"

  "But he's not the kind of man I pictured myself falling for. I always thought I'd find someone friendly and easygoing. A nice, good-natured, hardworking guy."

  "Well, you're okay on the hardworking part. Cousin Jared's always been a hardworking man."

  "Great. But what about friendly, easygoing, nice and good-natured?"

  "No comment."

  "My point precisely."

  "So what will you do?"

  "Grin and bear it."

  "What fun."

  "What else can I do?"

  For a moment there was silence on the line. Then Laurie asked, "Do you really want to know?"

  Eden shrugged. "Sure. Hit me with it."

  "Well, it seems to me you've got a golden opportunity here."

  "Oh, a golden opportunity. Right."

  "Do you want to hear what I have to say? Or would you prefer to just go on
being sarcastic?"

  "Sorry. I want to hear, I really do."

  "Then let me finish, please."

  "All right."

  "Okay. You've got a golden opportunity. You're working with the guy every day but Monday for the next several weeks. And then, unless something happens to make him change his mind, he's outta here. Right?"

  "So?"

  "So it's perfect. If things don't work out, he's going to be gone anyway."

  "Well, they haven't worked out, that's what I'm telling you. And he isn't gone. Not for weeks yet. And I've got to see him every night until then."

  "Okay, so don't waste the time you have left."

  "What do you mean, waste? What is there to waste? It's over before it even started."

  "I mean, why don't you take advantage of the situation? Since you're thrown together every night, make it your business to get to know the man better. Just in case he is the one you've been waiting for."

  "Get to know him. Please. He's your cousin. How can you say that? You know how he is. The master of the one-syllable response."

  "Was I finished? I didn't think I was finished."

  "Sorry. All right. Go on."

  "Fine. So I'm not sure how you do it, but you do it. Become friends with him. Don't push, just be receptive, any time he's willing to open up a little. Slowly you'll get to know more about what makes him tick."

  "Yeah?"

  "And then…"

  "Yeah?"

  Laurie sighed. "Oh, never mind."

  "What do you mean, never mind?"

  "Oh, well."

  "Oh, well what?"

  "It would never work."

  "What are you saying?"

  "That you're right."

  Eden gave a little groan. "About what?"

  "About my cousin Jared. I mean, no matter how positive I try to be about this, I can't help remembering who we're talking about here. And cousin Jared never opened up to anybody in his life. You really want the advice of a friend?"

  Eden didn't, not really. But it was too late to say so now. She bleakly conceded, "I said I did, didn't I?"

  "Okay, then here it is. Forget him. Keep it strictly business for the next few weeks. And be waiting at the door to help him into his coat when he heads out of town."

  Eden felt like a pricked balloon. But she knew her friend was right. "Yeah." The word was glumness personified. "You said it. And I know it."

  "So do it."

  "I will."

  And Eden fully intended to. At least consciously, anyway.

  But deep in her secret heart, she still nourished a futile longing for the man she knew she ought to forget. Thus, it was Laurie's original advice that stuck with her.

  Later, as she lay in bed, she couldn't help wondering just how a person would go about getting someone like Jared Jones to open up a little…

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  Jared didn't know how the hell it happened, but after he and Eden had been working together for a while, he began telling her things. About himself. About his life. About his feelings, for godsakes.

  It started out as a sort of joking remark she made, during a lull on that first Tuesday night after Oggie's injury. That night had been pretty quiet to begin with. And at about nine the place emptied out, except for a few real diehards at the card table in back.

  Eden went out to the tables and began gathering the empties on a tray. Then she trotted over to the bar and set the tray down.

  "Okay, Jared," she said out of nowhere, as soon as the glasses and empty beer bottles stopped clinking together. "We've got a spare five minutes here. Why don't you tell me your life story?"

  He gave her a look, a look he'd practiced a lot in his life. The look said, "Back off."

  Eden shrugged and came around to join him behind the bar. Then she began washing the glasses. He assumed he'd shut her up.

  He assumed wrong.

  She said, very offhandedly, "Okay, forget your life story. After all, if this keeps up, I'll head on home. So you'd better save your life story for some night when I'm trapped here."

  He'd grunted then. Though he was really watching it with her, keeping strictly to the terms of their understanding not to get involved, it was hard not to respond to her.

  She was so tall and sparkly and full of the oddest, gawky grace. A damn gorgeous flamingo of a woman, with those neverending legs and that flame-gold hair and that mouth that could smile like no mouth he'd ever seen before.

  Then she asked, "But how about … the happiest day of your life? So far."

  And he said, "The day Heather was born," before he even realized that he'd opened his mouth to speak.

  She swooped the pair of rocks glasses she was washing through the rinse water and turned to give him a quick, melting look from those Kahlúa-colored eyes of hers. "I can understand that."

  And that was all. She didn't make too much of it. She didn't say, like a lot of women would, So tell me all about it, every itsy-bitsy detail of how you felt and what you felt and why you felt it. Just that soft look and I can understand that and that was all.

  It surprised the hell out of him, to tell the truth. He'd never thought that she could back off like that, that she could hear what he'd said and let it be, because most of the time Eden Parker was such a damn motor-mouth. And also because he'd assumed she was just like any other woman, that she'd fall all over herself at the slightest opportunity to get him to "communicate."

  In Jared's experience, most women said they adored a man who was strong and silent and self-contained. And then they were somehow always after him, nagging him, because he wouldn't "open up" with them.

  But Eden Parker never urged him to "open up," and she never nagged because he didn't. She just … invited him to. And damned if he didn't find himself accepting her invitations, as often as not.

  "I've got a moment here, Jared," she'd announce. "Name your favorite song of all time."

  And he'd be answering some idiotic thing, like "Blue Velvet," before he even realized that he had a favorite song.

  She'd say, "Well, that's not bad. Not bad at all." And he'd want to ask her, "Not bad compared to what?" But by then he would have remembered that he was supposed to be keeping things distant and professional when it came to her. So he'd say nothing. Until later, when she'd pop out another harmless question and he'd answer it before even stopping to think.

  "What's your favorite color?"

  "Something that doesn't show the dirt."

  She'd chuckled when he said that.

  Then, later, she demanded, "Favorite kind of movie?"

  And he hadn't missed a beat. "One with lots of action and not too much talk."

  She asked, "Favorite card game?"

  He answered, "Seven card draw."

  "Favorite food?"

  He grunted at that. "Whatever's in front of me."

  She laughed. And then she wondered, "If you could take back one thing you said or did during your life so far, what would it be?"

  He told the truth. "Hell. There's no way I can pick just one."

  She moved on. "Name an exotic place you'd like to visit."

  "How 'bout Tahiti?"

  "Fine with me. Name something in this world that you love, not including people."

  He thought about that one and then told her, "Peace and quiet. A hawk soaring. The way the wind makes ripples on a mountain pond."

  "Hmm," she said after that and walked away with that soft smile on her face.

  Later she asked, "What do you hate, Jared? I mean really hate?"

  "The national debt. A broken promise."

  "Got any enemies?"

  "Sure. But my enemies don't worry me."

  "Why not?"

  "A man knows where he stands with his enemies and his friends. It's everyone else you have to watch out for."

  When did the questions become less than harmless?

  Be damned if he knew.

  Maybe it was that night she
knocked a glass off one of the tables and he went out with the broom to sweep up the pieces for her.

  She was kneeling, her bright head bent, carefully picking up the larger shards. She looked up at him, her wide mouth as soft as a flower in full bloom, her brown eyes like velvet. "Were you scared as well as happy the day Heather was born?"

  He stared down at her and hardly realized he was answering until he'd already said, "You bet. Scared as they come."

  "Yes. I believe that."

  He found he wanted to elaborate. So he did.

  "Sally had a hard time of it—with the birth, I mean." His voice sounded gruff, unpracticed. But still he wanted to say more. He continued, "And I was a drinking man in those days. Nineteen years old and a stone alcoholic. Sally and me were having our problems because of that. But not that day."

  "You were sober that day?"

  "Yeah. I don't remember now how I managed that. Maybe that was during one of those times when I promised Sally I'd quit. Who the hell knows? What matters is, I was sober and they let me be there, at the end, to see my daughter born."

  Jared leaned on the broom and shook his head. "Damn, she was ugly. It's hard to believe sometimes, when I look at her now, but Heather Jane was about the ugliest baby I ever saw in my life. I remember I mentioned how plug-ugly she was. And Sally said, 'You wouldn't look that great, either, if you'd just been through what she's been through.' And we laughed together. Then I said to Sally, 'I'm real proud.' And she kinda whispered back, 'Me too.'"

  Jared flexed his fingers around the broom handle, wondering where the hell all those words had just come from. "It was a good day," he finished. And since he didn't know what else to do, he held out the dustpan.

  Eden Parker didn't say anything. She only smiled and took what he offered her.

  He told her about Belle and the boys a few nights later, when they were a week and a half or so into their temporary partnership.

  She asked what was the worst day of his life.

  And he said, "There have been many."

  "Worst of the worst?"

  He answered, "I suppose there were two of those."

  "And they were?"

  "The day Sally died. And the day I came home from work to find an empty house and a note from Belle saying she was taking the two boys and going back to the man she loved—that was her first husband, Dale."