Sierra Hearts (Part One)

Sierra Hearts

Part 1

Ash Elko

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the
product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events
is entirely coincidental.

© 2015 Ash Elko

For T.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

About the Author

Chapter 1

Your body never forgets the cold
, she
thought.

Even after all the time away, all the time she swore
she would never return, she never forgot the piercing cold of the
mountain air. Underneath her heavy winter coat, Jenn focused on the
crisp inhales filling her lungs, holding it a pause longer than she
needed to, and then, finally, exhaling until her body felt
completely deflated.

She pretended her footsteps crunching in the snow
and ice sounded like
left, right
, keeping time as if she
were in a high school marching band.

Left, right
.

The sky above was a dark inky black. No stars
tinkled above. Ahead of her was the bright white light of the
MacKenzie General Store. How many times had she been in this spot
as a young girl? How many times had she been walking home just like
tonight feeling the cold and dark envelop her with her thoughts
focusing on the warm fire her father had going, the soft orange
glow it produced almost nuzzling her? Jenn shook the thought away.
That was when she was a girl.

Stop being nostalgic
, she thought.
You are
a grown woman who ran all the way home because your boyfriend
dumped you.

She was suddenly very aware of the fact she needed
to remind herself that Max was now her ex-boyfriend.

At the store steps, she unconsciously took the steps
up to the porch two at a time as she always had. The MacKenzie
General Store was just that. It was a tiny one-stop supermarket,
post office, saloon, and all-purpose hang-out for the citizens of
Bear Lake to come in from the cold and chat with others who were
tired of the four walls of their homes of the tiny village in this
part of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. At the top of the steps, Jenn
stomped her boots on the well-worn welcome mat that said
Get a
Warrant
. Her dad’s joke. The porch to the General Store was
just wide enough for a person to sit in a chair with their feet up
on the railing. This time of year it was just virgin snow bank
where the overhang of the roof didn’t quite cover the wood planks
with the occasional small critter paw print.

Jenn hesitated before she reached for the door. Deep
breath. She turned the knob and heaved the door open. Immediately
she could feel the warmth of the room on her face. She could feel
the heat push up against her nose. With it came the savory smell of
the woodstove and the fire in its belly. Almost as immediately, she
could feel the eyes of the room all shift to her. She could see her
dad, Mick, behind the narrow bar leaning in to speak with Big Paul
with intense, almost terrifyingly focused eyes, paired with a
disarming grin. This was the look her father had when discussing
something at once trivial yet of the utmost importance, perhaps who
was the greatest football player of all time or which brand power
tool was the best or what qualified as the worst winter experience
or some such nonsense. But, with her entrance, the conversation was
paused so her father and Big Paul could turn around to get a look
at her. It wasn’t just them, either. All the other regulars were
there too, all reeking of cheap booze. About a half a dozen locals
with nothing better to do besides get drunk. All men. All had known
her since childhood. All eyes were on her. None dare do any more
than ogle her with her father in the room, but Jenn knew,
knew
, that every single one of these men was undressing her
in their minds. Jenn shuddered.

This
, she thought.
This is why I left this
town to begin with.

She didn’t bother taking off her jacket despite the
warmth of the room. She didn’t want to fuel the twisted old
imaginations of the men in the room.

“Come on in daughter o’ mine and take a seat by the
fire,” Mick said. “Did you have a good phone call?” he asked. He
signaled for her to take a seat near him at the bar.

Jenn approached the bar and took a seat next to Big
Paul, a man who, despite the nickname, was average sized. He was
Big Paul and his son was Little Paul. Last time she checked, Little
Paul was in jail. Big Paul was the only gentleman in store. He
wasn’t staring at either her behind or her breasts.

“What are you doing trekking all the way to the
ridge for phone reception for?” Big Paul asked.

“I called my friend from LA to let her know I got in
fine. With the storm coming and all, I figured I would give her a
call while I could. People from LA don’t know what real weather
is.” Jenn grinned.

Big Paul muttered something about how much he hated
LA sports teams.

“Can I—” Mick started to say but was interrupted by
the sound of the local news coming back on. Mick made it a habit of
keeping the TV tuned to local news. Odds were someone in the store
knew someone who appeared in a news segment, plus given the fact
most customers didn’t have access to internet or even so much as a
regular newspaper, it was the one source for news besides the usual
gossip.

“Can I get you anything?” Mick asked. Jenn shook her
head.

“No, thanks. I think I’m going to head up and turn
in early.” Jenn was tired, sure, but she also hated the local news.
To her, the local news broadcast was a reminder of her childhood.
Of how alone and isolated she felt growing up in a tiny mountain
town with a thousand other people. Of how scary it was that this
could be her whole life. Living and dying in this place. The whole
world out there, but the most important thing to report who was
having a bake sale this week or who had died. A constant, daily
reminder that there was no escape to this tiny insular world. Jenn
hated the local news.

“OK,” Mick said.

Jenn started for the door marked
Private
at
the end of the bar which led to a small hallway next to the
staircase that separated the General Store from the MacKenzie home.
In the hallway, she carefully removed her jacket, placing it
carefully on a hook. Next her boots, which felt cold and wet. She
undid her scarf, feeling the soft wool against her neck as she
untangled it from her hair. There was something so satisfying about
shedding all of these layers, especially away from the penetrating
stares of the saloon regulars. Pulling off her sweater and stepping
out of her snow pants, she felt so much lighter, renewed somehow.
She began to tug off her knee high socks when she heard footsteps
on the staircase coming down. A shiver of panic rippled up Jenn’s
spine. No one was supposed to be back here. No one. Here she was
getting undressed with a person casually coming down the steps.

“Who’s there?” Jenn called. The footsteps hesitated.
Jenn waited, unsure what to do.

Should I try to cover up?
she thought.

Suddenly, a voice from the staircase. “Oh. Sorry.
Mick said I could borrow a cardboard box… for groceries. I didn’t
mean to intrude.” The voice was embarrassed, shy even, but
definitely male. Whoever it was, they hadn’t moved on the stairs,
which was something Jenn noted. There was something about the voice
that Jenn couldn’t place. Almost familiar but not quite.

Suddenly Jenn could feel the door behind her open.
Glancing behind her, she could see it was her dad.

“Jenn, I forgot to tell you—oh, I guess you’ve
already discovered for yourself. Danny, stay where you are for a
moment. Don’t move.”

“No problem, Mr. MacKenzie.”

Danny? Danny Williams? Was that who was on the
staircase? Jenn thought, of course! That shy voice. It wasn’t shy
now, but it had to be him. It had to be Danny. The last time she
had laid eyes on Danny must have been… years? Was that even
possible? He was only a few years older than Jenn. He would tag
along when his mom did the grocery shopping for the family, and as
a result spent a lot of time in the General Store. Quickly, she
pulled on her snow pants. Not sure what to say, she said, “OK. All
clear.”

All clear? What did that even mean?

The sound of the footsteps resumed, slowly at
first.

The pace made Jenn think of the word
tentative
.

“Did you find the box, Danny?” Mick asked. Danny
held up a squat red box marked
Budweiser
in answer.

“Yes, sir. Thanks for letting me take it. I think I
have too many groceries just to carry myself.” He smiled. Mick
smiled. Jenn thought, what am I missing here?

“Hello Jenn,” Danny said. For the first time since
Jenn arrived, Jenn felt like she was actually being addressed as a
person. “Long time no see!”

“Hi Danny.” She blushed. Could this really be Danny
Williams? The scrawny scarecrow of a teenager who liked to build
model rockets and fire them into the sky? Not that Jenn as was a
winner at that age, either. With a bowl haircut and braces, add to
that her red hair, she wasn’t exactly on the top of the list of
middle school boy’s crushes. And even now, she didn’t exactly
consider herself to be a supermodel.

Danny the scarecrow had filled out. He was tall. He
was… He was… strapping, rugged,
handsome
. He was
gorgeous
. He was wearing a red flannel shirt with specks of
green that seemed to stretch over his shoulders and torso. The top
two buttons were undone revealing a white undershirt and just a
hint of some serious muscle tone underneath it. He held the
cardboard box propped up on his forearms with his hands cupped
around the front corners, but Jenn could see even from that angle
that they showed a kind of sinewy strength that comes from working
with your hands all day. His hair was that same auburn it always
was, only now instead of the buzz cut he favored in high school, it
was straight and long with a part just to the left of center of his
forehead. There was a few days’ worth of dark blue stubble on his
taught cheeks that perfectly framed his face.

How long have I been staring at him? Should I say
something?

“How are you?” Jenn asked, afraid she might be
tomato red from blushing at this point. She was doing her best to
ignore the urge to throw herself at him.

“Good, good. I heard you were back in town,” he
gestured with the box at Jenn’s father. Jenn traced the motion back
to her dad, who gave a shrug. Were he and Dad close now? How come
he never mentioned Danny when they spoke?

“We should catch up sometime. It’s been
forever.”

“Yes!” Jenn said, a little too loudly. “That would
be great.”

“Great,” Danny repeated with a smirk. “Thanks for
the box Mr. MacKenzie. I wouldn’t want to lug all those groceries
without it.”

“Not a problem, Dan,” Jenn’s dad said. “Anything
else I can get you?”

“No, no, this is fine, thanks. Great to see you,
Jenn.” Danny angled himself sideways to walk past Jenn and her
father as he lifted the cardboard above his head. From this angle
Jenn could see that with his arms raised, the bottom of Danny’s
shirt lifted to expose a strip of skin on his abdomen, which from
the look of it might as well be carved from solid stone. A new wave
of blood rushed to her cheeks.

“You, too, Danny,” Jenn could hear herself say but
didn’t remember willing herself to say it.

Jenn floated, not quite sure her feet were actually
touching the ground as she climbed each step up to the second story
to her room. Once inside and door firmly closed, Jenn took off her
snow pants she had so hastily put on just a few moments earlier.
She took a good look at herself in the mirror. She stood up
straight and let her hair drape over her shoulders. She turned to
the side to see her profile. She posed. Her mind drifted. She
pretended she was at a bar—no, a nightclub—and standing alone on
the dance floor. She swayed her body to an imaginary beat, looking
at herself in the mirror. Watching herself move her hips. Enjoying
her body, feeling confident in front of the mirror as she
fake-danced. She imagined someone coming up to her, offering to by
her a drink. Her imagination sketched a face: Danny’s. Imaginary
Danny’s eyes twinkled… She realized her legs were cold and starting
to goose bump. She climbed into bed and tucked the sheets under
herself.

The sheets were cool against her skin. A shiver
ricocheted up and down Jenn’s spine and put an end to her fantasy.
She looked up at the ceiling. Well, girl, here you are, she
thought. Back at home, in your childhood room. Single, broke, and
broken-hearted.