Ghost on Black Mountain by Ann Hite

to bring revenue men up here. He came up missing. Nobody would tell on Hobbs because we deal with our own up here. Problem is we’re not doing too good of a job because he’s running the show.” He slapped his knee. “I got to go. My dear stepbrother would raise Cain if he knew I was here talking with you.” He looked deep into my eyes. “Never think you know him cause you won’t, ever.”
    And there was the truth staring me in the face.
    I looked away. “I seen your mama here.”
    “Don’t surprise me none. She’s probably looking out for you. She knew Hobbs well enough. That’s one of the reasons he hated her so bad.” Jack opened the kitchen door.
    “She walked down the front stairs.”
    He nodded like we were talking about something as simple as spring coming. “Don’t talk to Hobbs about her. He’ll ship you off to the state hospital.”
    “If he even comes back.” I cursed the sinking feeling in my chest.
    “Oh, don’t you worry. He’ll come rolling in here when you least expect him. You can’t get rid of him that easy. Enjoy your time. Ain’t no telling what he’ll be like when he comes back.” He laughed.
    I touched his arm without thinking. It was just a natural kind of gesture. His stare locked with mine for only a few seconds, and then he slid his arm away. “More snow tomorrow.” He put his hat on and stepped out the door.
    “Don’t say that, Jack.”
    He grinned. “Aunt Ida’s knee has been aching up a storm, always does when a big snow is coming.”
    “Sounds like my mama.”
    “Why don’t you go down and see her, your mama?” He was watching me close.
    “How? It ain’t like Hobbs left me a way. And he don’t like her one bit since she refused to come to our wedding.”
    He laughed. “Well, sounds like she’s got sense. Let’s see what Christmas brings.”
    After he was gone, I sat in the rocker and watched the flames until I got to that sleepy place where I was awake but couldn’t move. A sound I hadn’t heard in a while, a sound I’d been waiting to hear, pacing around and worrying over, rattled up the drive. I had thought I would dance for joy, but I didn’t. And this caught me off guard.
    The kitchen door opened. “Well, well, look who’s up waiting on me.”
    I didn’t crack a smile. A battle took place in my chest on whether I was going to grab my next breath or not. Hobbs was home.

Twelve

C hristmas loomed in the background as I walked through the next few days not giving joy to Hobbs being home for the holiday. Everything in me had up and buried itself deep in some hole. But Hobbs was purely happy and walked around whistling. We never seemed to be able to feel the same way at the same time. Church was the only place I found a peaceful moment, and it wasn’t even real peace since Jack sat close by, smelling like clean soap, close enough to let me study the line of his jaw. He smiled here and there, tipped his hat, but kept his distance. He was a fine catch for a sensible girl. Up until I met Hobbs I had been just that kind of girl.
    I worked on some gifts, trying to catch the proper mood for the Lord’s birthday. It was a time of new beginnings, of birth, shedding our old skins and gaining something completely new. One night the snow fell in big fluffy flakes. I stood at the bedroom window and listened to Hobbs snoring. The soft whispery voice—Nellie—seemed to move through the tops of the trees, through the river, through the very earth itself. Themountain was talking to me, accepting me. I couldn’t make out all it said, but I knew the day I could, things would change. For good or bad, I wasn’t sure.
    On Christmas Eve, Hobbs took out early to do whatever he had planned for the holiday, and I decided to walk to church for the afternoon service. The trees were bare and a brisk wind pushed me up the path. The whole sanctuary was lit by candles. My heart sank and jumped at the same time. In that candlelight, I thought I saw some hope, a way out of