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CHAPTERONE
BREWER
The ax comes down on the log, splitting it in half with a satisfying snap. I grab the two pieces and toss them on the growing pile next to me. Summer is nearly over, and here on the mountain that means we could be getting the first snow any time now.
I grew up on this mountain, just like my ma and pa, and their parents before them. The only time I left was for college, and even then, I was miserable the whole time until I finally came home. New York City isn’t the place for me. I much prefer the pace of mountain life.
However, my father told me the degree in business would be worth it, and he was right. Since returning home, I’ve had a successful business making custom wooden furniture. It’s how I earn an income, though truthfully, I already have everything I need without it. I grow my own food, I helped build the house I currently live in, and the mountain provides me with lush scenery and plenty of activities to take up my time.
Sure, it’s a lot of hard labor and long hours in the sun followed by months of harsh winter. And yes, sometimes I miss being able to order a pizza and have it delivered to my door. But if you’re able to weather the storms up here in the wilderness of Montana, Wickery Mountain will reward you with food, shelter, and a place to call home.
The mountain has provided everything for me. Ma taught me how to grow everything from squash to spinach, as well as how to cook a mean stew. Pa taught me how to fish and hunt responsibly, respecting mother nature while still taking what we need to survive and live in harmony.
He taught me how to treat a woman, too. He loved my mother with everything in him, and he let her know it every chance he got. Pops always said he had no idea why she chose him, and mom always responded that the mountain brought them together.
I can’t believe it’s already been five years since her passing. My dad followed her into the afterlife a few short months later. I wasn’t surprised. He always said he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. Still, the loss was devastating.
I’ve never found a love like that. A love so deep, it transcends life itself. Then again, it’s not like I get out much. I only leave the mountain when absolutely necessary, which is about twice a year.
The nearest town is two hours away, but a few large properties surround the base of the mountain, owned by snobby assholes. The people don't even live in their lavish homes most of the time, choosing to visit a few times a year for a getaway into the "wilderness." With their three-story houses and manicured lawns, you could hardly say they're roughing it.
I shake my head as I haul the last of the firewood inside. I know my lifestyle isn’t for everyone. It’s difficult, sometimes monotonous work, but it keeps me busy. Knowing I have everything I need right here is reward enough. Well, almost everything.
I’m all alone out here since Ma and Pa died. Alone, but not lonely. At least, not until last week. I woke up one morning with an ache in my chest. It felt like someone punched a hole right through me, leaving a void right where my heart used to be.
I’ve never been more aware of the empty spaces in my cabin, or the cold side of the bed when I roll over in the middle of the night. Never gave much thought to cooking for one and eating at the table by myself, but now it feels heartbreakingly lonely.
The ache has only worsened over the last few days. I’ve found myself hiking around the mountain in search of… something. All I know is that a piece of me is missing. For some reason, the mountain took a part of me away, but I know it will provide something else to make me whole again. All I have to do is wait and listen.
After stacking the firewood and clearing the yard of splintered wood, I head inside to clean off the day. I have mostly the same routine; shower when I’m done with work, heat up some dinner, and then sit on the porch, listening to nature’s lullaby.
A few hours later, I’m in my trusty wooden porch swing that I built for my ma a decade ago. She was beside herself when I finally showed it to her. Now, I sit here at night and replay the sweet moments we had as a family.
My heart squeezes up painfully tight as doubt filters into my thoughts. Will I ever have a family of my own? Someone to love and spoil? Kids to love and raise right?
A twig snaps somewhere to the right of my cabin, pulling me back into the moment. More twigs and leaves rustle and break under the weight of whatever's out there. It's smaller than a bear but too loud to be a wolf or deer. The forest debris crunches under the uneven steps of the animal, getting closer and closer.
My chest grows tight again, so tight it’s hard to breathe.What the fuck?I’ve dealt with my fair share of wildlife, but I’ve never had this reaction before. It’s not fear, it’s…
Before I can finish my thought, a bright white figure streaks across the clearing of my little cabin and then disappears into the woods on the other side. I’m on my feet, running after it before my brain has a chance to catch up.
It’s her.
Who, I’m not sure, but that’s the only thought rattling around in my head as I storm after the ethereal figure. I get the feeling she’s going to be essential to my survival. I just need to get to her before something else scoops her up.
When I hear a thud and a whimper, I double my speed. It’s a woman, alright. And if she’s running up the mountain at this time of night, she’s probably in trouble. An unfamiliar urgency takes hold of my body, my heart pumping, lungs breathing with one goal in mind: find her and keep her safe.
Sure, I get the occasional naive rich kid wandering up here from time to time, but they mostly stay away for fear of getting lost or, heaven forbid, break a sweat while hiking. Some idiots had a part out here in the woods a few years ago, but I scared the ever-living shit out of them by wearing my bear skin rug as a coat and growling at them from the shadows. Haven’t seen any teens up this way since.
I’m still smirking about it when I reach my mystery woman. She’s a work of art. Pure and radiant with white-blonde hair that almost matches her white dress. Her fair skin glows as well, almost translucent in the moonlight. I must be making her up. She’s too beautiful to be real.
The pressure surrounding my heart is almost unbearable as I look at her. I feel it swelling up in my chest and taking over my entire body. My skin feels too tight and a thin sheen of sweat covers the back of my neck as I raise a trembling hand to my chest. I rub the spot where my heart is trying to break through.
She looks so delicate and out of place, sitting in the middle of a forest in her dress - which I now notice isn’t just white, it’s a fucking wedding dress. The thought of her belonging to another man makes my skin crawl and my fists clench. I’m ready to snap a motherfucker’s neck for touching what’s mine.
Mine?
Mine. She’s what I’ve been missing. The mountain brought me an angel. And right now, my angel is scared and needs me to bring her to her new home and make sure she knows she’s never leaving my side again.
