Page 13 of Mountain Refuge
What if all of this was in my head? My instincts had been wrong before. So wrong, in fact, that when my life had blown up, I’d been so blinded-sided I’d moved myself to a remote cabin on a Montana mountain to never have to face that humiliation or heartbreak again.
And yet, I could see his fear. It flowed off of him in waves. He was a father who would do anything to protect his children. That took such strength, in my opinion. He needed to know they were safe here. I’m not even sure if he knew whereherewas, and maybe that was a good thing. If he was lost, could anyone still find him? If they were even looking for him?
“A friend,” I said vaguely. It was my house and my radio after all. As much as he needed reassurance, I did too. “I think it’s time we talked while the kids are still sleeping.”
I didn’t miss his wince. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about what or who you are running from. I’m talking about why a little girl feels the need to constantly guard her baby brother while her father is sleeping the sleep of the dead from over-exhaustion. I’m talking about why you are up here on this mountain, stranded in a snowstorm.” When he remained silent, gaze still fixated on the kids, I let out a long sigh. “Look, I don’t let strangers into my home. Obviously, your situation demanded immediate action and I’d had nowhere else to take you, but I hope you understand that this is my home. I don’t come here for vacation. I don’t live here casually. I live here to get away from people and their problems. I don’t mind helping you out while you’re stuck here, I really don’t. Those kids are beyond adorable and I’ve found I’ve enjoyed having them around more than I thought I would.
“But I need answers. I need to know who I let into my home. Because you’re no lost tourist.”
“How do you know I’m not?” Adam challenged. He still wouldn’t look at me though. “I took a wrong turn and that’s all.”
“And I call bullshit.” I wasn’t trying to be harsh, yet I needed him to understand my perspective. Now that he was awake, it was hitting me hard that I’d let a strange man into my home and I lived in the middle of nowhere with no next-door neighbors to hear me scream. Did I believe Adam would do anything in front of his children? No. Yet, I still needed to take precautions. “Adam, there were no reported lost tourists. Believe me, this time of year with these storms, they check. The resorthotel is very thorough to make sure no one is left stranded and the inn in town is the same. If you had a reservation—and trust me that’s the only way you’re getting into that resort—and you hadn’t checked in, they would have reported you to the sheriff. Since there was no search party for you or your car, that leads me to wonder how or why you were on this mountain.”
It took a long moment, but Adam finally looked at me. The sorrow in those eyes was heart wrenching. I was starting to doubt my conclusions—after all, it had been a lot of years since I’d been a detective—when he nodded slowly. “I can’t tell you much. In fact, I’m not even sure I should be telling you anything at all. But you helped us and are keeping us safe. I owe you something.”
I gestured for him to come up. I was sitting in a chair similar to the ones in my kitchen in front of a small table that held my radio. The loveseat that was the only other piece of furniture in the loft faced the opposite direction from me. I stood, picked up my chair, and moved it around to the other side of the loveseat. I wasn’t about to sit next to him for this. I wanted to see his face.
I let him take the chair. First, because the couch was more comfortable and it was my couch. Also because I figured he’d want to be able to look over the rail and still see the sleeping kids.
Adam sat, looking as forlorn as a schoolboy being sent to the principal’s office. He rubbed his hands up and down his legs nervously. “I can’t tell you much but I can tell you I was instructed to come to this mountain. My best friend told me to take the turn away from the resort and to keep going, that he’d find me. Unfortunately, we were caught in that snowstorm and never made it, or he never made it. I’m not sure which.”
My face scrunched. His best friend? Who would be crazy enough to tell a guy to take his kids up a dangerous mountain in the best of weather? Mind, our storms tend to have a mind oftheir own and we don’t always know when they are going to hit or how long they are going to last. Our winters are very unpredictable. So why would someone send a man and two children up the mountain knowing that? Unless theydidn’tknow that. What if there was a stranger on my mountain? What if there were others out here that I didn’t know about? The only reason I knew of some of them was from Jack. We weren’t exactly what you would call a sociable group.
There was also the possibility that he was lying. His story certainly was vague.
“Why not send you into town? Why the mountain?”
Adam bit his tongue on that one. So either he was lying or the town hadn’t been an option for him.
I scoffed. Look at me, trying to play detective again. Wasn’t as if my ‘detective instincts’ had worked out that well for me the last time I’d needed them anyway. My head started to throb. Finally, I said, “Fine. What can you tell me?”
“Not much. It’s obvious we need your help and I’m sorry I can’t tell you why but I can offer you money.”
That statement shocked me and, to my surprise, offended me. Did he think my silence could be bought? Out here, who would I tell anyway?
“I don’t want your money. I just need to know if I’m harboring fugitives or if trouble is going to come knocking on my land once the snow clears.”
Adam shook his head quickly. “I’m not a criminal,” but something in his eyes told me he was lying. Or, at least, not telling the full truth. Could someone be half a criminal? “And we’ll be long gone before the snow clears.”
Instant doubt broke through my train of thought, making me forget the criminal aspect for the time being. “And how do you expect to do that, mister? Are you familiar enough with this mountain to trek through it in the dead of winter with an infantand a kid in tow? Your car is likely buried deep and, unless you know where you are right now, you’re not finding it. In fact, do you even know where you are to know which direction to turn when you leave the cabin?”
Adam’s face flushed. He stood up in frustration. “Look, I didn’t mean to bring this to you. I know I owe you. If you won’t take my money then let me help out around the house while we’re here. I need to call my friend. Do you have a phone?”
I gestured behind me at the radio. “You just saw me use it.”
His confusion only grew into further frustration when he saw I was talking about my radio and not an actual phone. “Really? You don’t have a cell phone or anything I can use to make a phone call?”
I shook my head. “Reception doesn’t work out here. The radio is the only reliable way of communication.”
“Shit,” I heard him mutter. He ran his hand down his face, tugging slightly on his beard like he wasn’t used to having it. I wondered how old the beard was. I liked the look of him with it, but then, I’d always preferred a beard to bare skin. “How long will the snow last?”
“Well, let’s see, today is Thursday so… April?”
He looked at me with a start, and then burst into laughter. It took me only a second to follow behind him. I hadn’t meant it as a joke, more like a sarcastic comment, but it had broken the tension that had been building between us. I liked the sound of his laugh. It was full bodied, and it made his eyes sparkle. I wondered when the last time he laughed was.
Adam shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. With his arms on his hips, he looked taller than he was, his chest wider. It was only then that I realized his feet were bare. I’d need to get him a pair of wool socks for around the house and could only hope mine fit him.
