Man of the Mountain Ch. 01

Maison hadn't even bothered to learn her name. He wished he had stayed and talked with her. Asked her about herself and where she was planning on going. He decided to do just that. He finished stacking the wood he had just cut and headed back inside. He found the woman sleeping again. Maison waked closer to the bed and sat down in the empty space next to her. She was beautiful, even with a bruised face. She had high cheekbones and a little button nose. Her thick, kinky black hair accentuated her dark face perfectly. She couldn't have been older than twenty. Maison wondered if she had been married. He traced her puffy lips with his finger, wanting so badly to kiss her.

He reminded himself that she was still grieving the loss of her family and she may not even be interested. Many times she called out the name Cole while she was asleep. Perhaps he was a sweetheart of hers. Maison went go feed his animals. Besides Dancer he had a milk goat he bought last spring and a few chickens. He hunted for his meat. Being up in the mountains meant that many things couldn't be grown but he was able grow some potatoes, cabbages, turnips, carrots, and herbs. He bought other things from outposts and a couple of general stores by trading his furs.

Maison spent most of his time alone, going weeks at a time without seeing another person. His only company during this time was Dancer. He bought her three years back from a Pawnee scout. Cost him about a week's worth of furs but she was worth it. He went to the barn he used both as a workshop and to house his animals. He went up to pet Dancer on her nose and she nipped at his coat collar.

"I hope you don't mind but I think I found another lady to occupy my time." He said patting her nose. She nipped him again in response.

He cleaned the barn and put fresh hay down before giving some to Dancer and the goat. Maison left the barn and went around to the side where he had his chicken coop. Maison never tried to be gone for more than a day or two, any longer than that and his animals would starve.

The snow had stopped falling and Maison took the opportunity to check his traps. He trapped all year long trading both meat and fur. Even though the demand for fur was dwindling, it made for a decent living but then again he didn't want for much. His traps were all empty except one rabbit trap. He would bring it back for supper. He wondered if she knew how to cook.

Maison

When Beatrice awoke again the man was gone and the sun was setting. Her head felt as if someone had hit her with a mallet. She reached up and felt the stitches. They were on her shoulder as well.

The image of Clara laying on her side with an arrow in her skull popped into her mind. She shut her eyes against it. Oh god how would she explain this to their mother? All of her warnings had come true. How naive they had been not heed them.

If Beatrice could take it all back she would. She would have remained in Chicago working as a teacher. In a few years she would have probably been married. Her life would be safe and predictable. But now she found herself lost in the wilderness take in by a strange mountain man. All for the sake of seeking a little adventure.

Beatrice had to relieve herself. She raised herself from the bed her head throbbing as she made her way to the floor. Her legs were shaky and the arm with the injured shoulder felt heavy and sore. She held it up by the elbow with her other arm.

Beatrice slipped her feet into her boots, not bothering to lace them then opened the latch on the wooden door. Everything was blanketed with snow. Beatrice had never witnessed such a beautiful scene. Snow and ice hung off the pine boughs as the last of the sunlight filtered through the trees. Snow was never this beautiful in Chicago. After a few days the snow became black and grey. Sullied by the city's grime. But here it was breathtaking.

She only wished Clara was here with her. She also wished Elam and Cole were here too. As well as the little girl from the wagon train that followed her around. And the girl's grandmother who had taken to calling her 'Bea bea'. She wished her younger brother and father was here with her too. Hell, she even wished her mother was with her. Instead she found herself all alone in the wilderness. Tears stung her eyes and her nose began to run. She wiped her face on her shoulder and made her way down the steps. She walked carefully, trying not to tire herself out. The cracks in the door allowed for light and wind to enter the outhouse. There was a small bucket of fresh pine cones near the seat. Back in Chicago Beatrice used therapeutic paper to wipe but she had soon gotten used to other alternatives. There was no room for prissiness out on the frontier.

When she finished she made her way slowly to the cabin. As she reached the door she felt faint. She opened the door and her legs gave out. Before she hit the floor strong arms wrapped around her midsection and pulled her up.

"I got ya." He whispered.

Beatrice felt herself being carried before she was gently deposited on the bed. As she drifted off to sleep she heard the familiar whispering. She found comfort in those arms.

Maison

When Maison got back to the cabin he found that the woman was gone and traced her footprints to the outhouse. He was surprised that she was strong enough to get that far by herself after what she had been through. He kicked off his boots and removed his furs.

Seeing his bed empty made him feel a little lonely. A image of the both of them in bed together came to his mind. He wondered what it would be like to touch her dark breasts. He banished those thoughts from his mind and gathered a couple of bowls and spoons for dinner. He had given her a few sips of water as she slept during those days. He figured she would want real food when she returned.

The door opened and the woman stumbled in. She fell and Maison managed to catch her just in time. He lifted her in his arms and brought her over to the bed. She felt so light in his arms. Maison laid her on the bed and got under the covers with her. He whispered in her ear and held her in his arms as she drifted to sleep.

It had been so long since he held another person in his arms. He had not realized until now what the lack of intimacy had done to him. Maison wanted to stay like this with her forever. As the snowfall resumed Maison drifted off to sleep.

Beatrice

There was a thumping in Beatrice's ear like someone tapping on a small drum. She found it soothing. She moved her head a little and realized she was laying on something hard. Her eyes shot open when she heard the low rumble of snoring. Beatrice looked up and saw the man who had saved her asleep with her in his arms. When she first saw him he looked a bit wild but sleeping he looked handsome, almost gentle.

She didn't dare try to get up and walk around again for fear of passing out. Instead she decided to enjoy the warmth and comfort of this strange man. She wondered if Cole would have held her like this. The thought of Cole brought on more grief. She had not even saw what had happened to him. Her only concern during the attack was to find safety for herself and Clara and she had failed at doing even that. Beatrice could not hold back the tears and she let herself cry.

"Don't cry honey," she heard him say. "You're safe now."

Beatrice was startled, she assumed the man was still asleep.

"I-im sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," he said. "you been through a lot in the last week."

There was a gentleness in his grey eyes that Beatrice had not expected to be there. She had fashioned him in her mind to be some wild, uncivilized mountain man. But seeing him like this took her off guard. When he didn't release her Beatrice tried to sit up.

"No, lay down," he said. "You need to rest."

When the man got out of the bed it felt empty without him. She would never admit it to herself but Beatrice wished he had still held her in his arms. He went to the stove and spooned up a bowlful of soup. It smelled like the chicken soup her nursemaid prepared for her when she was sick. Seeing it made Beatrice ravenous. The man pulled a stool next to the bed and sat on it with the bowl in his hand. He held a spoonful out to her and Beatrice gratefully opened her mouth to receive it. It tasted better than she had expected.

When she finished eating he gave her a cup of water. She was full. Her stomach must of shrunk while she was asleep.

"Thank you."Beatrice said. "For everything you've done."

"No need to thank me." He responded.

There was an intensity in his gaze and Beatrice couldn't quite figure out what was behind it. She looked away embarrassed. The man cleared his throat before speaking.

"What's your name, miss?"

"Beatrice Bell." She said.

"Well my name is Maison Steer." He held out his hand and she shook it.

They talked for a little while. About who they were and how they both ended up here. She found out that Maison was from Iowa and had come out west with his wife and child years ago to farm. When they died of cholera he moved to the mountain and began fur trapping.

Soon Beatrice found herself tired again. She began drifting off to sleep as Maison washed the dishes. Before she fell asleep Beatrice felt the man climb in bed and wrap his arms around her. Beatrice made no protests but instead wrapped her uninjured arm around him.

Maison

Beatrice healed over the next few weeks. She was well enough to cook their meals and look after the cabin. Maison was gone most of the day hunting and checking his traps. In the evenings though they usually sat and talked or played card games. Maison even taught Beatrice how to play the harmonica.

While they lay in bed together Maison would stay up as Beatrice slept waiting for her to have a nightmare. Then he would hold her in his arms until they both fell into a peaceful sleep. Occasionally he stayed up all night just holding her, imagining the life they could have together.

In his imagination there were no barriers keeping them apart. No one to oppose him taking up with a negro woman. They would marry and stay on the mountain. Maybe Anson would buy up another plot and build a bigger cabin. They could have children.

The daylight managed to sober him of these fantasies. Beatrice showed no hint of wanting that life with him. She talked of her family and friends in Chicago as if they were present. He knew in the spring their time together would end and he would go back to his life of loneliness. But until then he would enjoy what he could.

One day when Maison came in for supper Beatrice sat on the bed looking out the window. Her eyes looked sad and distant. Maison went to sit on the bed next to her.

"You wanna talk about something?" He asked her.

"It's nothing," she said. "I was just thinking how much I would miss this place when I leave in the spring."

"I thought you missed your life back in Chicago." He told her. "figured this place was a little too boring for your tastes."

"No I like the peace." She said looking at him. "And I like talking to you."

Maison felt his heartbeat speed up. Those were the words he wanted to hear all along. Perhaps his dream wasn't too far off.

"You can stay, you know." He said abruptly. "In the spring you can stay here with me."

"And do what Maison?" She asked.

There was a little laughter in her voice. She thought it was a joke. Maison shrugged his shoulders not knowing what else to say.

"Just... just be with me." He said it so softly it was almost a whisper.

Beatrice looked surprised. Her dark eyes held his for a moment before she looked down. Her hands began fiddling with the skirt of his dead wife's dress.

"Maison I didn't know you felt that way." She said avoiding his gaze. "I'm sorry."

Maison though he had prepared himself for this moment but her rejection stung more than he thought it would. All this time he had imagined how happy they would be together. Knowing that would never happen made his heart ache.

"Well," he said. " I gotta go feed the animals."

Maison got up and left without even putting on his coat. He heard Beatrice call out to him but ignored her. The wind and snow whipped around his body chilling him to the bone. He walked quickly to the barn and stepped inside. Safely behind it's door he let tears pour down his face. For years he had pushed away any painful emotions but now he couldn't stop them from overtaking him.

Beatrice

If Beatrice had been honest with herself she would not have been taken by surprise at Maison's proposal. The way he felt about her was evident in the way she sometimes caught him staring at her, when he would touch her and linger, and then there was the time he held her far too long. Beatrice brushed it off as him just being friendly with her. But as she sat near the window waiting for him to come back in she realized that Maison had thought of her this way since day one. And why shouldn't she return his advances?

Maison was handsome, kind, and he had saved her life. He took care of her when she was injured and once she was well given her his dead wife clothing so she wouldn't have to wear the dress she wore when her sister was murdered.

But what would her family think? What would her friends say? No doubt she would be shunned if someone were to ever discover their liaison. And what if a child resulted from that union? That child too would be shunned. Forced to live on the fringes of both societies.

Beatrice couldn't let something like that happen to herself or her future children. It was clear that Maison was not thinking of the consequences so she had to do it. Just because the two of them were alone and away from civilization didn't mean they could do whatever they wanted. Still when she looked into his grey eyes she felt protected.

Maison

When Maison returned to the cabin Beatrice was already asleep. She left the oil lamp on to light the way for him and she had yet to change into her nightgown. Maison was touched that she at least cared for him in some fashion. Even if they could not be together romantically.

Maison ate his dinner before turning into bed. Before he got in he removed Beatrice's dress and shoes. Other than the nightmares she was a heavy sleeper and didn't wake. The clothes belonged to his late wife but they looked just as fine on Beatrice.

Maison lay in bed looking at the moonlight shining through the window. There was going to be a snow storm tomorrow. After living on the mountain for so long Maison developed the ability to predict when the weather was going to change. He probably would not be able to get to his traps until it was over. That meant spending the entire day in the cabin with Beatrice.

He fell asleep worried about what would happen the next day. When he woke again the wind was making the door bang against the lock. Beatrice was thrashing around and begging for mercy. She was having another one of her nightmares.

Maison sat up in bed and held her in his arms. He smoothed her thick, wooly hair and kissed the soft skin on her forehead. Her eyes opened then. There were tears in them, this nightmare had been worse than all the others.

"Maison?" She asked in a confused tone.

"Im here baby." He reassured her.

They stared into eachothers eyes before she kissed him. Maison didn't move for a moment, still too shocked to fully comprehend what was happening. Then he kissed her back and it was everything that he imagined it would be. Both soft and passionate. How long had it been since he shared his lips with another? Since he had felt another warm body pressed against his?

Maison held her tighter not ever wanting this feeling to go away. She broke the kiss suddenly and nuzzled his neck, breathing hard. Maison didn't push her. He wanted more of Beatrice but she clearly did not want the same. After she fell asleep again he stayed awake watching the storm outside. A tree fell somewhere off in the distance.

Sometimes morbid thoughts of his death plagued him. He imagined himself dying of some sickness or perhaps a tree falling on him as he went to check his traps. Maybe a run in with a bear or mountain lion when he was unprepared. He would die alone on the mountain, his body not discovered until months later. And who would be there to mourn him? To bury him? Perhaps when Beatrice left in the spring he would find a wife, settle down on a homestead. So he wouldn't have to die alone.

Beatrice

In the morning neither of them spoke about what happened that night. It was as if the conversation and the kiss never transpired. Beatrice was grateful for this. She had no idea what had caused her to kiss Maison after she rejected his proposal. She could only blame her nightmare for making her so vulnerable.

This time it was not she and Clara in the woods but her and Cole in the camp. He was on his knees in front of her. He smiled up at Beatrice before an arrow plunged it's way through his throat. Beatrice shouted for help as blood squirted onto her skirt and Cole fell over into the dust.

Then all around her there was fire. It billowed in a large circle around her. From the flames emerged a figure. He was man painted red and black with and had a bow in his hands. He raised it towards her. Beatrice fell on her knees and begged for mercy. But still the man approached. She could not get away, the flames trapped her inside.

The man came to stand directly in front of her. Just as he was about to unleash the arrow Beatrice head a whisper. Something faint calling her from behind the flames. She opened her eyes and saw Maison staring down at her. Beatrice didn't think, just acted upon instinct as she drew her lips closer to his.

In that moment when their lips met Beatrice felt safe. There was no fear, no worries. The world washed away and it was just her and him. Beatrice found her head swimming. She broke the kiss and nuzzled Maison's neck. His smell was now familiar to her. Comforting. He held her close to him and rocked her back to sleep.

Although Beatrice had felt safe and protected in his arms she was embarrassed to face him in the light. She needed to strengthen her resolve. Remember the consequences of what would happen were she to ever entertain Maison's desires... and her own.

When Maison left to work on his skins in the barn she was relieved to finally be alone. However, as she went about her chores she found herself looking back at the window checking to see if Maison was returning. She was both anxious and excited.

When he did return they had a dinner of venison and potatoes. Afterwards Maison went to fetch fresh snow to melt for their baths. For weeks Beatrice had been washing herself using just a pail of water and a rag, she was happy to finally be taking a bath. Maison was gracious enough to allow her to go first. He hung a curtain separating the cabin in order to give her privacy.

She settled into the warm bath enjoying the feel on her bare skin. The tub wasn't as large as the one she had back home in Chicago but it was just as soothing. Maison left Beatrice a bar of lemon soap. Beatrice smiled to herself. She found it hard to imagine this rugged man indulging in such a feminine frivolity.

"Maison," Beatrice said. "I never imagined that you would enjoy scented soap."

"Sarah, my wife, liked it." He told her.

Maison's voice held a hint of sadness. He must have loved her a great deal. She wished she could comfort him. Let him know that he wasn't alone.

"Maison," she started. "if things were different I would be with you."

He was silent for a long time. All Beatrice could hear was the crackling of wood in the stove and the wind blowing outside. She turned wondering if he had even heard her.