Dark Mountains Read online

  We both knew that coming home after dark was pretty much forbidden. In the mountains, it was too dangerous to be out once the sun sank below the horizon. The woods came alive at night and it was too easy to get lost, especially if you were afraid.

  I quickly unrolled the sleeves of my flannel shirt and pulled it over my head. The cool air bit at my skin, making me shiver. I threw the shirt down to Libby as she stared at me. A sudden wave of embarrassment hit me as I realized that Libby had never looked at me like that before.

  “Put it on before you freeze,” I stated, surprised by the change in my voice. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.” She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “Hurry, Cole,” she whispered as she put on my shirt. “Please.”

  I ran through the slippery undergrowth like the devil was chasing me. I cleared fallen logs, splashed through streams and stumbled through holes. It took me ten minutes to find the weed-covered blind. With the shadows deepening, I spotted the rope, grabbed it and took off running again.

  The sun wasn’t up anymore. The shadows had disappeared, making it impossible to judge the time. The darkness was creeping in like a fog. I knew it would be black by the time I got back to Libby. We were on the East side of the mountain, the first place to lose the light and the heat of the sun.

  I knew Libby would be freezing now. The temperature had dropped into the low forties and Libby was wearing shorts. I shivered, finally noticing that I was cold, the sweat feeling like beads of ice on my skin. I ran faster, stumbling more than once over hidden stumps and ditches. I reached the ravine out of breath, the darkness making it hard to see.

  I kneeled over the edge, squinting to find Libby. She was curled against the gully wall, her arms wrapped around her legs. Her head came up sharply as I leaned over. She jumped up, limping to the side of the ravine. I uncoiled the rope and tossed it down, my breath coming out in raspy shakes. She tied the rope around her waist as I stood up.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” she called back, her voice trembling.

  “Okay, I’m gonna pull you up. Hold on tight.” I slammed my body weight into the rope, feeling Libby start to rise. The ravine had been at least ten feet deep and as she came closer to the edge, my arms began burning. I was grinding my jaw as I worked, praying frantically that Libby didn’t have any injuries.

  I saw her head first, coming over the edge. Still pulling, I watched Libby scramble over the edge and roll away. Making sure she was away from the drop-off, I let go of the rope and collapsed on the ground next to her. My breath was shallow and fast as I wrapped my arms around her shaking body and held her. My breath began to even out and I finally stood.

  “Oh God, Cole. We have to get back.” Her voice was shaking as she stood. “Pa’s gonna be home. Oh, God.” She pulled at my arm. “You’re cold.” She gasped, feeling my icy skin. She started to pull off the flannel shirt.

  “No,” I whispered, stopping her hands. “You need to stay warm. Keep it on.” Our eyes stayed locked for seconds, an invisible heat sizzling between us. I broke the contact. “Let’s go.” We stopped at a stream and tried our best to wash off most of the mud. We ran through the darkness, instinctively knowing our way home. When we saw the clearing, Libby pulled me to a stop.

  “Here,” she said, shoving my flannel at me. “If he sees me wearing it, he’ll think…” I nodded, not asking her to finish as I pulled the shirt over my head.

  “I’ll go with you.” It wasn’t a question. She nodded and I took her hand as we looked towards the distant light of her house.

  Her Pa was waiting on the porch, his ankles crossed as he sat in a rickety chair. Libby saw him in the shadows and quickly dropped my hand. We walked into the circle of porch light as he stood up.

  Jackson Michaels was a tall, haggard man, his long bony legs making him gangly. On first glance, he looked harmless but the glint in his eyes spelled out danger to anyone close enough to look. His dark hair was greasy and un-kept and his dirty hands remained fisted at his sides. I raised my chin as he looked down at me, making fear shiver down my spine.

  “Where you been girl?” He growled at Libby, spitting out a stream of black tobacco.

  “We got lost, Pa,” Libby whispered, staring at the ground.

  “Louder girl!” He shouted. “You look at me when you talk.” Libby’s head immediately shot up as she murmured a hasty yes sir.

  “Sir, we did get lost,” my voice quivered but was strong to defend her. “We didn’t mean to be late but the sun’s started going down a little quicker with fall coming and we lost track of time.” He took a step off the porch, looking down at me with alcohol-glazed eyes.

  “I ain’t stupid. I know what season it is!” He spat again, eyeing me dangerously.

  “No sir. Yes sir,” I answered, trying to keep my chin up.

  “You been messin’ with my girl, boy?” He asked making Libby gasp. I straightened my shoulders, my fear replaced by anger. “Huh, boy?” He stepped closer, the stench of tobacco and whiskey choking my breath. I saw Libby’s face turn white as paper as Jackson took another step closer to me.

  “No,” I answered, anger seeping into my bones. I was young, but I knew what he was asking me. We were almost sixteen but I was shocked that he would think so little of his own daughter. I noticed how embarrassed Libby was and felt my anger begin to boil as I wondered how her own pa could say such a thing.

  “What was that, boy?”

  “No, sir,” I answered, my voice full of fury. “I haven’t touched your daughter that way. I love her too much to disrespect her like that.” I heard Libby’s quick inhale but I continued to look her pa straight in the eye. He was glaring at me, trying to stare me down. I fought my hardest to be a man and keep his gaze.

  The door to the house opened and we both looked away. I felt relief to see Libby’s Momma coming out of the house, her arms crossed over her chest. I saw Libby’s Pa stiffen with rage.

  “Get on back in the house, Carol Ann,” he warned. She pretended she hadn’t heard him even though I saw her flinch at his words.

  “Why if it isn’t Cole Andrews,” she clucked from the doorway. “How ‘bout that, Jackson. You remember Cole, don’t you?” I saw her shiver when Jackson’s lip curled into a sneer. “Don’t you work for his daddy down at the mine?” Everyone, including Jackson, knew that but Carol Ann’s message was clear.

  Daddy was the supervisor for the shift that Jackson worked on and Carol Ann was warning Jackson that he could face consequences at the mine if he started anything with me.

  “It was sure responsible of you to make sure Libby got home okay,” she continued, avoiding Jackson’s burning eyes. “Now that it gets dark so quick.”

  “Not a problem, ma’am,” I answered, feeling unsure of the whole situation. Jackson turned towards Libby and roughly grabbed her arm. I saw her wince as he shoved her towards the porch. I reached for her, prepared to stand between her and Jackson but she sent me a pleading glance that had me dropping my arm.

  “Get in there and clean up,” Jackson growled as Libby scurried up the stairs. “I’ll deal with you later,” he told Carol Ann as she retreated into the house behind Libby. Jackson turned back to me after the door clattered shut.

  “Get on home boy, ‘fore your Pa comes after you.” He looked me up and down once more before he swaggered up the steps and into the house.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, I was anxious to get to Libby’s house. I had blurted out that I loved her, in front of her pa, no less. I was worried that everything would be different because of it and though I was restless to see her, I took my time walking through the woods. Jackson was gone for his shift at the mine and I could hear Carol Ann fidgeting around in the kitchen. I felt a twang of pity, seeing now what kind of man she had married.

  Not wanting to bother her, I walked around the back of the house to where Libby’s bedroom window was. The window was open so I stuck my head, like I’d done every summer before, to let Li
bby know I was there. She was still sleeping, lying on her stomach, her chestnut hair spilling across the pillow. The sheets were tangled and mostly on the floor, along with her pillow. Her pajamas had scrunched up around her legs and waist as she’d slept.

  As my eyes trailed past her shoulder, I started seeing dark smudges on her skin. I took a second look, thinking she hadn’t gotten all the mud off from the night before. Her skin wasn’t dirty but peppered with large splotches of greenish-purple bruises. My breath caught in my throat as I saw that her back was also covered. Her cheekbone was discolored, the yellow tint creeping towards her nose. I hadn’t realized she’d hurt herself so badly from her fall into the ravine.

  Libby stirred in her sleep and rolled onto her back, flinging her arm above her head. She moaned softly as she settled her weight onto her bruised back. Her neck had even more bruises. I squinted and felt the color drain from my face as I saw that the bruises were patterned like fingerprints. My stomach rolled as I realized she hadn’t gotten the bruises from falling into the gully. Someone had choked her, hard enough to leave marks on her skin.

  Not wanting Libby to know what I’d seen, I went back to the driveway and picked up a few pebbles. Stalking back to her window, I began tossing them at the glass. On the fourth rock, I heard Libby get out of bed. She came to the window, an old bathrobe wrapped around her. She had pushed her hair around the edge of her face, trying to cover her cheek.

  “What time is it?” She mumbled, leaning on the window frame.

  “Past ten,” I answered, leaning against a tree trunk. I didn’t want her to see my anger so I looked down, shuffling the grass with my foot.

  “Ten? I’ve never slept in that long before,” she answered, rubbing her eyes.

  “Well, you had a pretty rough night,” my voice was flat and I looked at her to see if she’d react. I saw her shiver, like a piece of ice had slipped down her back.

  “Meet me on the front porch. I’ll be out in a minute.” She disappeared into the room and I walked back to the front of the house, kicking at clumps of dirt to vent my fury. Libby came out a few minutes later. She started walking down the gravel road without speaking.

  “Well, come on,” she said when I didn’t immediately follow. She’d put her hair in a loose braid and wore a long sleeved, plaid shirt over her cut-off shorts. I could see traces of powder on her face but could still make out the faint bruising on her cheekbone.

  “What?” She asked, finally turning towards me when I still didn’t follow.

  “Nothing,” I sighed, finally trailing after her.

  We walked for a while, not saying anything. The woods were silent today, the mid-day heat making the birds and squirrels stay in the shelter of the leaves. Even the streams seemed hushed as the temperature continued to climb. We reached the lake an hour later, sweaty and hot.

  I peeled off my wet shirt and threw it over a rock to dry. Libby sat down on the ledge, her feet dangling into the water. I sat down next to her, waiting for her to tell me what she was thinking. For the longest time we stared at the lake, watching as dragonflies tapped the water’s surface.

  “It’s hot enough to swim,” I suggested when she stayed silent.

  “I don’t want to swim today.”

  “It’s too hot for a long shirt, Libby. I don’t know why you even put it on.” I was deliberately prodding her, hoping she’d open up.

  “I was cold,” she answered shortly, twirling her feet in the water.

  “Libby, it’s at least ninety and you’re wearing shorts. Why put on a hot, old flannel?” I knew she wouldn’t have any excuses after that but she just stared at the water and didn’t say anything. Usually I would’ve left it at that and been just fine with watching the lazy ripples come across the lake but not today. The images of her bruised skin kept flashing in my mind, bringing my simmering anger to a boil.

  “Your Pa hit you, didn’t he?” I hadn’t expected my voice to be so loud and it echoed off the mountainside. I heard Libby let out a weak sigh as her shoulders slumped. “Don’t try to deny it, Libby. I saw your bruises before you woke up. I saw what he did to you.” My breath was ragged now, fueled by the heat flowing through my blood. “Look at me, Libby!” I yelled when she didn’t move.

  She turned her head slowly, finally meeting my eyes. It was then that I saw she was crying. Silent tears fell down her face, catching in the noon sun. I had never, in all the years that I had known Libby, seen her cry.

  I couldn’t speak. Libby had always been strong. She’d always been braver than she’d realized and I was shocked to see her crying in front of me. I slowly realized that she’d been dealing with this pain her entire life. I’d never asked or brought it up. But today I had asked and now she was crying.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Libby?” I whispered my voice barely audible. “Why couldn’t you tell me what he was doing to you?” I felt my heart breaking with each tear that came down her face.

  “Oh, Cole,” she cried, throwing herself in to my arms. The weeping finally came, huge racking sobs that shook her whole body. She clung to me as if she was drowning and I was her only lifeline. Her strong, beautiful body, that could do anything, suddenly seemed so tiny and frail. As if the slightest touch would shatter her. I wrapped my arms around her as gently as I would a baby and let her cry.

  “I’ll kill him,” I growled when her sobs began to subside. “I swear it, Libby, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.” She sighed as she shifted her body to look up at me. Her eyes were red rimmed from the tears and the powder she had put on had washed away. The bruise was stark against her pale face.

  “Are you always going to take care of me, Cole?” Her voice was full of sarcasm but her eyes were pleading.

  “Always,” I answered softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. With the softest touch, I caressed her bruised cheek, then gently slid my fingers across the marks on her neck. Tears began to fall again as I touched her. I cupped her chin and lifted her head until she was looking right at me. “You are beautiful,” I murmured with more confidence than I felt. “Nothing he did to you can change that.”

  I leaned towards her, my lips brushing against her swollen cheekbone. I heard her sigh as my lips trailed the path of a tear to the corner of her mouth. I pulled back to look at her and saw that she was blushing. When she opened her eyes, her gaze connected instantly with mine.

  That’s when I kissed her. With all my teenage awkwardness, my lips touched hers. I was inexperienced and slightly shy but Libby’s mouth met mine and I let go of my anxiety. I kissed her without pushing, without asking too much. It was a first innocent kiss that everyone has but no one forgets.

  After I pulled away, I heard her sigh and felt horrible because that sigh meant that things had changed. When I looked back up at her, I saw that she was smiling. I waited for the rush of embarrassment but I smiled back when it never came.

  “Let’s swim a little, Libby. It’ll help you feel better.” She nodded and unbuttoned her shirt. She jumped in with her shorts and tank top on and I followed her with a chuckle. The cold water was a shock but felt amazing. I tried not to let my anger get the best of me as I saw Libby’s bruises in full view. When we finally climbed out of the water to dry in the sun, I noticed that the swelling in her cheek had actually gone down.

  I walked Libby home, though I didn’t want her going back to that house. Her Pa was working a double shift at the mine and would go to bed as soon as he got home. Libby would be safe enough for the night but I knew I had to figure something out. I went back to the lake and sat on the boulder the rest of the day, trying to think of a way to keep Libby safe.

  Chapter 4

  “Yee-haw!” The battered 4x4 barreled through the mud at the edge of a rising stream. Huge chunks of mud and sand flew in every direction, sticking to everything it touched. The last three days of non-stop rain had the streams crowding at their banks. Every spot of earth not covered in grass was becoming a pit of slurping, sticky mud. The rust-spotted Che
vy never slowed down as it reached the worn-down wooden bridge, angry, brown water sloshing right beneath it. The bridge groaned as the truck slid across it, narrowly missing the unguarded edge. I struggled to keep my hold on the doorframe as the lumbering beast I had the bad luck to be riding in, slammed into another water-filled mud hole.

  “Dammit, Libby, slow down!” I hollered over the loud exhaust. She glanced at me slyly, her mud-flecked, auburn hair swinging over her shoulder.

  “More fun this way!” She yelled back, shifting the truck up another gear. I knew the mood she was in. We were almost seventeen and Libby was pissed. She was taking out her anger on the back-woods trails and I was regretting volunteering myself to tag along.

  She had just broken up with her boyfriend at school a few hours before. He was a burly senior who just happened to be the star quarterback for the varsity team. She’d found out he was sleeping with the varsity cheerleading captain. Libby was furious. Not only because he had cheated on her but because his only excuse for it had been because Libby wouldn’t sleep with him.

  I was proud of Libby for standing up for herself and being different from all the other girls. She didn’t care about popularity or sleeping with the hottest guy. To Libby, sex was too important to waste on some zit-faced jock that wouldn’t remember her ten years from now. She had always said she was waiting for the man she would spend the rest of her life with. I’d secretly hoped that man would be me.

  I’d known that all the other girls at school made jokes about Libby behind her back because of it. I think she must’ve known what was being said about her but that didn’t stop her from sticking to her beliefs…or breaking the quarterback’s nose in front of the whole varsity team.

  Libby had confronted him while he was at practice about the rumors she’d heard. I stuck around, just in case she needed me to defend her honor. I should’ve known that Libby could stick up for herself just fine.