Page 15 of The Mountain Man's Secret Baby

His words make me gasp.

“No!” I scream. “You can’t, Christian, it’s not worth it! Come with me!”

But as I cry out, red and orange flames reach towering heights in the distance. They roar to life behind a canopy of trees, and a horrible crackling sound hits my ears. The trees start to bend and break, causing the conflagration to burn higher and hotter even as I stare in horror.

“Go!” Christian screams. “Now, Emily!”

Tears stream down my face as I hop into the cab of the truck, fishtailing the vehicle before roaring down the mountain. In my rearview mirror, I see my handsome lover, wielding the heavy hose while desperately spraying the roof of the cabin with water. I admire the alpha male’s courage and bravery, but will he survive? My heart breaks ... because I can’t live without Christian Degas now.

12

Christian

Istare straight ahead while sitting on the couch of my place in Vegas. It’s a luxury penthouse situated on the top-most floor of the Degas Hotel, outfitted with all the finest touches: plush, pile carpets imported from Persia; multiple chandeliers scattered about; and priceless artwork on the walls. A panoramic view of the city can be seen through floor to ceiling windows, and the apartment is still and quiet, the hushed exclusiveness reeking of money. But I don’t see anything because what the fuck happened a few days ago? One moment, I was enjoying coffee with my girl on the front porch of my cabin. We were giggling and laughing, enjoying each other’s company as Emily shot me sweet, flirtatious smiles. Then the next, a towering fire appeared out of fucking nowhere, racing up the mountain towards us.

I went into protective mode then. I rushed Emily off the property, tears streaming down her face as she raced off in my truck. Then, I grabbed the hose and began to defend my house.I sprayed the roof, the walls, and every conceivable surface with water. I filled garbage cans, the tub, and multiple large bins with water, and shut off the gas. I screamed and yelled, practically beating my chest as the fire approached, as if I could scare the conflagration off with my charisma alone.

But it wasn’t to be. The flames intensified as they rushed up the hill, an ominous mix of flickering reds, oranges, and yellows. I could hear the snap and crackle of kindling lighting up, and branches fell to the ground with massive booms. Stinging ash floated in the air, coating my skin while making my eyes water. The winds picked up in volume, embers glowing like fireflies as they landed everywhere and anywhere. The signs were clear. My efforts were the puny machinations of one human being against the might of Mother Nature. This fire was going to consume the mountain, and everything standing in its way would be decimated.

Screaming with despair, anger, and helplessness, I hopped on an ATV and zoomed down a narrow trail, the heat of the flames surrounding me on all sides. I still don’t know how I escaped because reports are that the fire consumed everything for more than two hundred thousand acres. Firefighters fought valiantly for days before containing the conflagration, and countless damage was done. Officials claim that a man and his son committed arson, firing a gun when projectile discharge from the firearm struck an object, causing heated fragments of the projectile to land in a dry receptive fuel bed, igniting the fuels. But that’s all gobbledy-gook to me because my girl disappeared, and she’s likely dead. My truck was found abandoned in downtown Fairview a few days later, the husk charred and blackened, with no trace of Emily.

There’s no one that can tell us what happened to the curvy girl either because the town was evacuated just twelve hours prior, before being burned to the ground. Nobody saw Emily arrive; there are no cameras capturing her presence; she’s just literally gone. CalFire told me that it’s likely she died, although we have no solid proof at the moment. Right now, the authorities are handling too much to even check for human remains in or around the car.

I sit on my couch, a broken man, tears streaming down my face in the ominous silence of my penthouse. What the hell happened? One moment, I was enjoying a peaceful afternoon with the woman I love. Yes, I know what it is now:love. I adore Emily Robinson, even though our circumstances were fucked up. She was my ex-wife’s daughter, but she was also young, sweet, sassy, and innocent all at once. In the space of two weeks, I lost my heart to the gorgeous blonde, but now all I have left are memories.

At that moment, a knock sounds on my door, and my heart drops to the ground. I get up, my bones creaking like an old man, and open the door silently.

“What the fuck happened?” Pamela screams, barreling in to pound on my chest with her fists. “Where’s my daughter?”

I manage to hold her off, pain etched on my face.

“You know what happened,” I say in a low, tortured voice. “Emily died in the Caldor Fire, Pamela. Your daughter is dead.”

“Noooooo!” Pamela wails as tears course down her cheeks, streaking her mascara and ruining her make-up. “That’s my baby! No, no no! It can’t be!”

Then, the woman collapses onto the ground, sobbing and tearing wildly at her hair as she dissolves into a mess. I do something that I wouldn’t do otherwise. I drop to the ground and hold Pamela in my arms, my tears mixing with hers as sobs wrack us both. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Sure, my ex and I were tangled in a nasty divorce but we weren’t supposed to lose her daughter along the way.

“Nooooo!” Pamela screams again. “No no no!”

“Shhh, it’ll be okay,” I say in a broken tone, my vocal cords trembling as I speak the lie. “Everything will work itself out.”

Pamela’s incoherent now.

“My baby!” she screams, her face blotchy and eyes wild. “That’s my child!”

The only thing I can do is to hold Pamela’s form as we rock and cry together. I lost the love of my life, and my ex is probably the only other person in the world who feels the pain as keenly as I do. My chest expands and contracts with sorrow, my lungs burning as tears wet my cheeks. Snot drips off my nose and splatters onto the foyer’s marble floor as I let out full, throaty sobs. After experiencing utter bliss high up in my cabin, my heart was torn out ... and I’ll never be the same again.

13

Christian

Ipull my truck up to a diner in Fairview before sitting in the cab for a moment to look around. I haven’t been back for more than two years now because there was no point. The entire town was incinerated, including my cabin up the hill, and there was nothing to see.

But in the time since, there’s been a lot of rebuilding, and the downtown looks good. There’s a selection of small shops with fresh paint, their awnings clean and new. When I step out of the truck, there’s no smell of ash in the air, and saplings line the road, their branches nothing more than twigs, thin and puny. Still, it’s good to see trees rather than an apocalyptic landscape. The photos from after the fire were horrifying, and reminiscent of a sci-fi movie, complete with the steaming, burned-out husks of cars, random metal stairwells that survived the flames, as well as an odd chimney still smoking here and there.

“Welcome to the Fairview Diner!” a plump waitress greets with a bright smile when I enter the establishment. “Where the air is clean, and the water is cleaner, all on the South Shore of Lake Tahoe. Where would you like to sit?”

I smile, although it’s more of a grimace.

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