Microsoft Word - The_Howling_Heart_AB_forPDF (5 page)

"We have pictures, so we're already keeping the memory of him and that God forsaken

place alive."

My mother was a Columbia University graduate with a Master's degree. Despite her

intelligence, she was clueless when it came to sentimentalism.

In the end, she was unsuccessful in dissuading my decision. I felt anxious to return to

Black River and was curious to see what had become of the cabin. Did my father let it fall into

ruin or did he rent it to another family? I had hoped he kept it the way I remembered.

* * * * *

Three days after my father's funeral, I landed at the airport in Denver. I rented a Jeep

Wrangler because I needed a four-wheel-drive vehicle to get up the mountain. The July weather

was mild, so I wore denim shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers.

One of the odd things about finding our cabin was you had to find the nearby town first. I

remember we got lost during our vacation, which caused an argument between my parents.

Finding the road that led to the town was tricky because there was only one accessible by vehicle

and there was no road sign. My father knew how to get there because the person who sold him

the cabin gave him a landmark. Luckily, he passed that information onto me during one of our

conversations. Once you found the road, the town was so small that if you blinked, you'd drive

right by it. When my mother said it was remote, she wasn't being facetious.

I drove on the interstate for over an hour when I realized I missed my turn. I had to find a

tree shaped like a wishbone (it was struck by lightning), but all the trees looked alike to me. It

took another half-hour for me to turn around and make another attempt.

I found my landmark, but to my surprise, a tangle of fallen branches blocked the entrance.

My hands gripped the steering wheel because I knew I was in for a bumpy ride. I floored the

accelerator and the Jeep broke through the roadblock. The road was narrow and the terrain was

rough. Whoever constructed it didn't want people to travel on it. I screamed when tree branches

appeared out of nowhere and banged against the windshield. The forest surrounded me on both

sides and I wondered if I'd ever reach the town.

I sighed in relief when I saw short nestled buildings in the distance. The dirt road

widened, and soon I was driving on actual pavement. Before me was Black River; Colorado's

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T H E H O W L I N G H E A R T

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little secret in the middle of nowhere. I glanced out of the back window. It was too late to turn

back now. The highway was miles away and I knew the return trip down the mountain would be

worse.

Black River got its name because of the river that runs through the surrounding forest. I

heard it stretched for tens of miles. The river was mysterious and known for its deep dark waters.

My father told me no one knew what kind of creatures and fish lived in it. I had seen the river

just once; the night I encountered a pack of wolves.

The town was eerily quiet as I drove through it. It reminded me of a ghost town in a

horror movie; not many people walking around, just deserted buildings lined up on both sides of

the main road. I looked to my right, past the buildings, and saw nothing but trees for miles. On

my left, about a mile away, was a trailer park surrounded by more trees. A few of the homes had

old pickup trucks and SUV's parked in carports.

I stopped the Jeep in the middle of the road. With my eyes wide, I looked around at the

place I would be staying for a few days. It was so different from the city. The town only had one

of everything. Well, not
everything
. You wouldn't find a Starbucks or Macy's. No popular

franchises or retail stores existed in Black River. However, for all it lacked, it was more peaceful

than New York City and the air was a lot cleaner.

I saw a few people sitting and eating in the Moonlight Special diner, the only restaurant

in town. I thought about going there later, but my first priority was the cabin. I wanted to see its

condition so I could determine what work needed done. First, I had to get some supplies. I just

hoped B's Everything You Need store lived up to its name.

I parked in front of the store and someone greeted me as soon as I stepped inside. "Hello

miss, how are you today?" An older man stood behind the front counter wearing a blue short-

sleeve polo shirt. His black hair was slicked back but graying on the sides. He gave me a friendly

smile. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

I walked toward him and smiled back. "Yes, I own the cabin in the woods." That sounded

so weird saying aloud. I felt like a backwoods hillbilly.

I stood on the other side of the counter but took a moment to look around. The store

seemed to have a bit of everything: hardware, clothing, houseware, groceries, fresh produce and

meats.

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"As you can tell...we're a small town so I know everyone. I saw you come in and thought,

'Hmm...Now
there's
an unfamiliar face.'" He smiled again. "The name's Bobby Tanning, by the way, or you can call me 'B'. I own the place."

He put his hand out for me to shake. Genuine hospitality and courtesy are always

refreshing, especially living in the city my entire life. There is actual truth behind the notion New

Yorkers are rude.

"And you are?"

"I'm Paige Donovan," and I shook his hand.

He rubbed his chin. "Paige, huh? I've heard that name before."

My eyes widened because someone in this town had actually heard of me. "Really? Did

you ever meet my father David Donovan?"

"David? Oh yes, I remember him." Bobby chuckled. "He had the cabin with his wife and

little girl. I remember she got lost in the woods. The old sheriff and I helped them look for her."

All of a sudden, his expression changed as if he had just remembered something. "So you're the

little girl? All grown up I see."

"Yeah," I laughed. "Don't worry, I won't get lost in the woods again. I have no intention of going in there."

Bobby grinned and let out a breath through his nose. "That's good. The woods around

here are no place for a hu---" He cleared his throat, his gaze shifting toward the counter. I gave him a confused look and silence crept between us for about two seconds. "So, where's your dad?

Is he at the cabin?"

My face fell at the mention of my father. "No, he uh..." It was still hard for me to say the words. "He died," I said quietly. "He left me the cabin so I'm here to see if it needs any work."

Bobby nodded and I saw sympathy behind his brown eyes. "Oh, I understand. I'm sorry

to hear about your dad. He seemed like a nice guy. I could tell he really liked it here."

"Yeah...he did," I said thoughtfully. "Do you know if anyone lives in the cabin now? I

was wondering if my dad rented it out."

He shook his head. "No, no one's been there since you folks."

I couldn't hide my disappointment. If no one's been there, then perhaps my mother was

right. Maybe my father let the cabin fall into ruin. Dread filled me because I had a feeling I

wasn't going to like what I would see.

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Before I could comment, Bobby added, "Actually, your dad was at the cabin about a

month ago. He bought a few things from me and said he was going to do some cleaning. He had

the gas, electricity and water turned back on. I thought maybe you folks were coming back."

My face lit up like a Christmas tree. Maybe it wasn't a wildlife hotel like my mother

predicted.

"Well, I think I'll pick up some things too...just in case. I know I'll need some groceries."

"Of course. Take a look around and let me know if you need any help."

"Thanks," I said with a friendly smile.

I remembered seeing hand baskets at the front of the store, so I grabbed one before I

started shopping. As I put items into my basket, my mind started to wander. Bobby said my

father was here a month ago. He never told me he went back to our cabin and I wondered why.

Was he planning to visit again? More importantly, did he plan to invite me? I wondered how

many times he visited the cabin since our last vacation here thirteen years ago.

I stood in the hardware section looking at flashlights, when suddenly I felt someone

staring at me. I tried to remain inconspicuous as I glanced to my left without turning my head.

There at the end of the aisle, stood a slender young man at least six feet tall, wearing a red and

black plaid flannel shirt with cut-off sleeves. Lean muscles flexed on his bicep as he grabbed

something from the shelf. His bare arms revealed a tattoo on his right shoulder, but I wasn't close

enough to read it.

He must've felt my gaze on
him
because he looked at me and grinned. There was no

doubt in my mind he was handsome. The sun kissed his skin gently with a golden tan. He was

clean-shaven with high cheekbones that would make any woman envious. His sandy blond hair

curled softly on the ends and brushed his ears and collar. A few untamed strands fell in his eyes

making his hair look disheveled.

Immediately, I felt hot all over...and I knew it wasn’t the summer weather. I blushed

under his steady gaze and looked away in an attempt to ignore him. For some reason, I couldn't

control myself because my gaze kept finding his. A smirk played on his full lips and I wondered

if he enjoyed making me hot and bothered.

My hand trembled as I reached for a flashlight and placed it in my basket. Another glance

toward this gorgeous stranger and I swallowed hard nervously. He casually browsed the aisle but

I noticed he had moved closer to me. His shirt hung open, exposing his muscular torso and a

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patch of wispy hair on his sternum. My gaze strayed downward and noticed his ripped abs and

dark blond treasure trail beneath his navel. Army green carpenter pants hung low on his narrow

hips, making the V-line prominent---every man's erotic road map to the treasure between their

legs.

My naughty eyes traveled further south and saw no sign of a waistband from his

underwear or boxers. Even in baggy pants, I could see the bulge of his manhood. Knowing he

didn’t wear anything underneath his pants made my lips dry. I darted my tongue out to moisten

them and averted my gaze once again.

I moved down the aisle but didn't know what I wanted to pick up next. The stranger

captivated me and had my mind wrapped in a cloudy haze of arousal.

I stopped in front of some tools, but heard his footsteps alongside me. Looking down at

the floor, I saw his black heavy boots with dried mud on the bottoms. He faced me, and
now
I

was on-edge because I thought he wanted to speak to me. I didn't have the confidence to talk to

him, so I moved swiftly down the aisle, trying my best to avoid any verbal communication.

Luckily, I didn't hear his footsteps following me.

I stood at the end of the next aisle and took deep breaths to cool the burning fire flowing

through me from our encounter. I stepped to the edge of the aisle and peeked cautiously around

the corner. I sighed in relief when I didn't see him standing there. I grabbed a few household

cleaning items, but when I heard footsteps nearby, I walked in the opposite direction until I was

back at the front counter.

Bobby stood there with a bright smile. "Are you all set?"

ot really, I can't even remember what I need. Thanks to blondie over there
.

I smiled back and lied casually. "Yeah, I think I'm good."

As Bobby rang up my order and placed my items in plastic bags, I felt the young man's

stare again. I wondered why he was the only other person in the store and why he was so

interested in me. When Bobby told me my order total, I could still feel the blond guy watching

me. I had a sudden urge to run away, so I overpaid Bobby and made a hasty exit toward the front

door.

"Keep the change!" I yelled as I dashed out of the store without a second glance at the

mysterious stranger or the kind storeowner.

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T H E H O W L I N G H E A R T

A p r i l B o s t i c P a g e |
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I got into my Jeep, and when I looked over at the store, I saw blondie standing

outside...staring at me.
What was his deal?
I held his gaze for a few moments, suspicion in my eyes. He had my nerves so rattled that I fumbled with the keys in the ignition before I started the

engine and sped off, leaving a cloud of dust in my wake.

When I was about to turn the corner toward the cabin, I glanced in the rear-view mirror.