“You Don’t Need to Lie to Me”
He heard the galloping of hooves as Betsy powered across the grassy plain, the horse’s powerful muscles working with each movement.
Stanley clutched the reins, bouncing in his saddle, his hair fluttering behind his head.
The wind blasted his face and bare chest; it was so refreshing.
As he rode, he gazed about, taking in the vastness of Reyes Ranch.
In the distance, a few cowhands were at work, tending some cattle. He glanced over his shoulder. The ranch house and barns were now in the distance as he raced toward the edge of the property.
Betsy whinnied, leaping over what looked like a dead stump, and Stanley grinned.
“Atta girl,” he said.
Still holding the reins, he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, letting it out calmly.
Riding had always had that effect on him.
So much so that on the day he left this world, he’d hardly panicked, at least until he found himself pinned beneath the weight of that horse in the snow.
Now, as he rode, he could recall that day in almost perfect detail.
It had been a warm summer afternoon. He’d been reading a newspaper when she came into the kitchen, looking disgruntled.
Stanley could remember her words: You sold two of our cows?
Why didn’t you tell me? He’d tried to explain himself to her—he’d sold the cows because the ranch needed some money, and he didn’t think it was much of a big deal—but she’d been more upset that he hadn’t bothered to mention it to her.
When he thought about it, he knew he’d been wrong, and he’d apologized to her. Still, he’d needed to be by himself for a bit, so he’d headed out to the barn and taken one of the horses, Charlie, for a ride.
He’d only been riding for a few minutes when his world suddenly changed.
One second, he was galloping across the ranch, and the next, a cold, unforgiving wind blasted him in the face, and he was riding through deep snow, powering downhill.
Charlie the horse had promptly collapsed into the snow, badly crippled, with Stanley pinned underneath him.
If he hadn’t had a blade on him that day, he might have been a goner. He wasn’t proud of what he’d had to do to set himself free. It had served as his first lesson about the gruesome reality of surviving on Frost Mountain, but not his last.
His first year on Frost Mountain had been particularly brutal.
He’d kept track of the days and months that passed as a way to maintain his sanity as he struggled to stay alive in the harsh conditions on the mountain.
He’d hidden in caves and learned to hunt animals for food and warmth.
More than a few times, he’d nearly lost an arm or a leg, but somehow he’d managed to survive.
It wasn’t until after a year of barely making it alone on the mountain that he stumbled across a community.
It was in a village called Kirnham that he’d learned the truth about Frost Mountain—that it was a dimension apart from Earth that he could never leave, that all he could do was continue to preserve his life.
Finding Kirnham had been a lifesaver—literally.
It felt good to be around other people instead of sleeping in caves.
In a way, it had been almost like he was back in Torpe.
He’d offered to help guard the village. It was in the course of his duty that he’d learned about the Collectors, but it was years later that the marauders invaded the village and took him captive.
For a dimension so cold and snowy, Frost Mountain had been hell.
Still, he imagined it hadn’t been easy for Allison either.
Stanley pried his eyes open and glanced again at the ranch house. His wife’s image swam before his eyes. It must have been lonely and painful for her these past four years. No wonder she’d snapped at him and told him to leave. He winced at the memory. To her, he’d left of his own accord.
If only she knew what had really happened.
I’m home now , he thought, bringing the horse to a slow trot. I’m back. That’s what matters. I’ll make things right with her.
It had been three days since she kicked him out of the house, and he’d hardly seen or heard from her.
The cowhands, Aaron and Julian, still shocked at his insistence on sleeping in the barn, had brought him food over the past couple of days.
He’d spotted his wife a couple of times, but she’d avoided him like a plague.
However, he did have a chance or two to get a good look at her.
One of those times, she’d had on a flowery dress, and all he could think of was what it would feel like to ease it up those sexy thighs of hers.
Not that it was likely to happen anytime soon.
But his strained relationship wasn’t the only problem bothering him now. What about Johan? The cowhands had mentioned someone who fit the man’s description, moving around Torpe. Stanley cursed under his breath. He’d assumed he was completely free of Frost Mountain, but fate had other ideas.
The pit that had brought him back must be some kind of portal, he figured.
And it had transported not only him but also the Collector to Earth—to Torpe, to be precise.
That alone had been hard to stomach, and now he had more to think about.
If Johan was in town, then trouble couldn’t be too far away.
The Collector wasn’t from Earth like Stanley was—he’d been born on Frost Mountain.
Stanley couldn’t resist a grim smile. Johan was one of the many threats to his survival that Frost Mountain had thrown his way. If that pit hadn’t brought them both here, Johan would have been the end of him. Not that it wasn’t still a possibility.
He’d managed to escape from hell. And one of its agents had followed him.
He tugged on the reins, and Betsy turned around, trotting toward the barn. “What are you up to, Johan?” he wondered aloud.
Stanley hadn’t gotten wind of any other strange happenings in Torpe.
Maybe the man was lying low. Maybe he wasn’t even in town anymore.
He dismissed the thoughts, hopeful as they were.
Whatever the case, Johan was bad news. Sure, things were different around here.
No more Grim Jim, no Collectors besides Johan himself.
But Stanley’s mind wasn’t quite settled.
He urged the horse into a gallop, heading back for the barn. As he rode, he looked around again.
How is this possible?
No one could escape Frost Mountain. That was one of the first things anyone ever learned about the place. The same magic that had created the dimension and brought in people from Earth had made it impossible for anyone to leave for literally hundreds of years.
Had there been some kind of glitch? Was that what the pit really was? Or had he merely been lucky?
It doesn’t matter much now , he told himself.
His stomach growled, and he grinned again.
Once he got Betsy back in her stable and tended to the other horses, he’d find some food for himself.
It shouldn’t be a problem. Nothing around here was half as difficult as living on Frost Mountain.
If he could survive being holed up in a freezing cave for days with no food and barely enough water, he could certainly find himself some grub.
He smirked at the thought and urged the horse to pick up speed, sighing as they neared the barn.
By the time he reached it, someone was waiting for him.
***
“I brought you some food,” Allison said. “I figured you might be hungry.”
She held out the little basket she’d brought with her. Stanley regarded her for a moment; brows furrowed like he was wondering if she was messing with him. Somewhat tentatively, he took the basket from her.
“Thank you,” he said.
His overgrown hair was somewhat tousled from the ride, and his bare chest heaved.
With each breath, his abs tightened, and Allison’s breathing faltered a little.
She looked away for a moment, her cheeks burning.
Stanley led the horse into the barn. Allison followed closely behind, watching him as he put the horse in back in her stable.
“There you go, Betsy,” he said, stroking the horse’s large brown head. “Hell of a ride, that was.”
He stepped back and glanced in Allison’s direction, and she rubbed her arms nervously, feeling a little out of place. What was she even doing here?
The answer to that was pretty simple. Over the past few days, trying to get him out of her mind had been like trying to lift a tractor with her bare hands—it simply hadn’t worked.
It hadn’t been this much of a problem when he was gone, completely out of reach.
But now that he was back, literally living in their barn, it was different.
Without really thinking—well, she had been thinking about him—she’d baked him a pie, and now here she was.
Stanley sat cross-legged on the floor, looking not in the least bothered by it, and began helping himself to it.
Allison blinked at him in confusion. She’d been feeling somewhat guilty about sending him out of the house since the other day.
By now, she figured, he should’ve headed to a motel or something—anything was better than living in a barn.
“You’re not uncomfortable?” she blurted.
He froze with a pancake on its way to his mouth. “Uncomfortable? Why would I be?”
He bit into his food, and his eyes lit up. “This is really good. Thank you.”
Allison frowned. Sure, Stanley had always loved horses and living on the ranch, even before his disappearance. But this? This was a little over the top.
She eyed him some more. Could it possibly have anything to do with his disappearance? He’d told her he’d been somewhere all this time. Where was that, again? Frosty Mountain?
No, Frost Mountain. Allison hadn’t even heard of it. Maybe it had something to do with ... well, all this?
Did it matter? Stay away from him, Celine had advised her.
“You need to get a haircut one of these days,” she blurted with a tiny smirk. “Just head down to Danny’s. You look like a hippie cowboy. How come you didn’t get a haircut all this time?”
He shrugged without looking up at her. “Didn’t need one.”
Allison took a step closer, ignoring the warning in the back of her mind.
In the light streaking in from the open doorway, she could make out the details of his body.
Those scars she’d seen on his forearms and abs weren’t the only ones.
From where she stood, she could just make out a few more across his back.
She couldn’t help wincing at the sight. If she didn’t know better, she might’ve assumed he’d gotten into a knife fight with a gang and barely made it out alive.
Whatever Stanley had been doing, wherever he’d been, it didn’t look like he’d been in the Bahamas.
What could have done this to him? Some wild animal? A meat cleaver?
Once again, she had no answers. It was becoming more frustrating than ever.
This wasn’t right. Stanley was her husband, the same man she’d been in love with since college. They should both be in the house, in the kitchen, having lunch. He shouldn’t be living in a barn, for goodness’ sake.
He abandoned you, said a voice in her head. Why do you still care so much about him?
Because he’s my husband, she told it.
Yes, but he left you.
He could’ve returned to the ranch house any time since that morning. Stanley was no idiot. He knew he could sleep in the house if he wanted to, no matter how many times she asked him to leave. Yet he’d chosen to remain here. Why?
It took her a moment to realize he was staring at her.
“Uh ...” She stepped back. “I’ll be going now. Just wanted to bring you something to eat. I’ll be going now—”
“Allison, wait.”
His voice stopped her in her tracks. She held her breath, staring at him.
He climbed to his feet and drew closer until he was standing barely a foot away, his chest heaving slowly.
“Allison,” he said. “I’ve missed you. I ... I’m sorry I was gone so long. Now that I’m back ...” He paused, looking around as if searching for the right words. “I want to be around for you. I want to be with you.”
She drew a sharp breath. “Stanley ...”
“I never stopped thinking about you.” Those deep blue eyes bore into hers. His fingers reached up to touch the locket he was wearing. “Not for a day, a month, a year. I never stopped loving you. I never could, no matter what was happening to me.”
His words swept over her like a cool breeze, soothing her senses.
She blinked at him, trying to come up with a response, but his words, not to mention the fact that he was standing dangerously close to her, made it almost impossible to form a coherent thought.
She found herself wondering what might happen if one of them took a step closer.
Those lips of his had felt warm against hers the last time he kissed her.
If he could just touch them to the pulse racing in her neck. ..
“Allison...”
She saw him reach out with his hand to touch her cheek. The next thing she knew, she’d swatted his arm aside.
“You never stopped loving me?” she scoffed. “I’m starting to wonder if you even loved me to begin with.”
He blinked. “Of course I did—”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left.”
“I didn’t—”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have had me waiting for four years!” Her eyes welled up with tears, but she made no move to wipe them away. “Did you even care what happened to me while you were gone? I was in pain, but now you’re back and riding horses around like nothing happened.”
“Allison!”
The firmness of his tone made her freeze. She saw his jaw clench, and he moved even closer. He was bigger than she remembered. He was sexy and intimidating all at once.
“I never meant to leave,” he told her. “Not for a moment. It’s like I told you: The whole time, I’ve been stuck on Frost Mountain—”
“Not this again,” she snapped. “You don’t need to lie to me, Stanley. The least you could do is tell me the truth instead of spinning some tale.” She shook her head. “Not that I even want to hear it.”
She turned and marched toward the barn doors.
“Allison—wait!”
“Don’t follow me,” she snapped. “Just leave me alone.”
She left the barn, tears threatening as she headed for the house.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Aaron and Julian on their way to one of the other barns but paid the cowhands no notice.
Only when she was inside the house did she pause to catch her breath. Only then did the tears begin to fall.