Page 2 of A Mountain to Climb

I’m confused. “What? I thought I had a month left?”

“I got a call from the Red Cross about three hours before your plane landed. Your mother called in to let you know that your father died last night in a farming accident.”

I can hear what he’s saying, but I feel the room start to close in around me. What’s my mom going to do with the farm now that he’s gone? I’ve never really had any interest in growing corn and soybeans. That’s part of why I joined the Navy right out of high school. I left for training the day after I graduated and have only been back a handful of times. Now, I have no idea what to do next.

“Jethro.” A hand drops on my shoulder and I look to my right. Malcolm is crouched down next to me. “What do you need?”

“I guess I need to go home.” I’m still in shock. What do I need? I need my dad to be alive.

Shit, I didn’t even think of my younger brother. Andrew is about two years younger than me and has always been my dad’s shadow. I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now.

“Your discharge paperwork is being signed as we speak and you’re booked on a flight to Milwaukee tomorrow morning at oh-eight-hundred. Chaplain King will drive you home shortly and you’ll have tonight to pack. He’ll also pick you up in the morning and get you to your plane. He has all the necessary details.” The Commander keeps talking, and I think I catch the important information, but it’s time for me to go.

I stand and salute my Commander one last time. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Fair winds and following seas.” He salutes back.

It’s time for me to get home. Wisconsin, here I come.

CHAPTER TWO

MOUNTAIN

FIVE YEARS LATER

“What the hell are you doing, Roxy?” I walk into my bedroom and see my girlfriend latching a suitcase shut. “And where’d you get that?”

“I can’t be here anymore.” She looks up at me as she drags said suitcase off the bed, letting it fall with a thump to the hardwood floor.

“What’re you talking about?” I roar.

“I’m leaving, Mountain,” she balls her fists on her hips, and starts tapping her high-heeled boot, “and there’s nothing you can do about it.” The venom-filled statement comes flying out of her mouth.

I look around the room and notice a few of the dresser drawers are open a bit, and the closet’s now half empty. Staring at our bed, I see that she stripped off the sheets and tossed my pillow on the floor. She’s normally so anal retentive about keeping things super neat and tidy, it’s usually really annoying. Seeing the way she’s left things in such disarray is throwing me off even more.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You can’t go.”

“I can and I am. This is my last bag.”

“But we have a son.” Holy shit. She’s going to take Connor away. Not as long as I’m on this side of the dirt, she ain’t. “You can’t take him. I won’t let you. I’m his father!” Each word I say is coming out louder and louder. I stalk forward and back her ass up against the wall. I stand at six-foot-five and tower over her by a good ways. She won’t meet my eyes and I’m not liking this one bit.

She mumbles something quickly, but I can’t understand her.

“What’d you say?” I grip her by the chin and make her look up.

“I’m not taking him!” she snaps back.

I drop her chin so fast, almost like she actually bit me. “WHAT!”

Roxy skirts around me and tries to get to the door. I reach it first and slam it shut. The bang makes her freeze and she drops her gaze back to the floor. There’s something she’s not telling me.

I think I know what it is. “You were just gonna leave without saying anything.” I’m dumbfounded. Had I not come home from work early, she would’ve left without a single word.

“I never wanted to be a mother. You knew that from the beginning. I told you the night we met, I didn’t want to ever be tied down. I only agreed to have him because you were so excited. But I can’t handle it anymore. The club. The baby. You. It’s just too much.” She’s rambling, scratching her forearms, and pacing back and forth at the end of the bed.

I’ve had it. If this bitch wants out, she can go. “Leave now. Take whatever you have packed and get the hell out of my clubhouse.” I open the bedroom door, grab the suitcase she dropped earlier, and toss it out into the hall. It bounces off the opposite wall and pops open. Roxy runs out of the room and kneels down to jam everything back in. There’s so much more I probably should say, but I can’t seem to form the words to express my fury.

She finally stands, and with one last look, walks down the stairs.

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