Mountain Refuge (Mountain Mutineers #1)

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Brooke

W hy couldn’t I keep my mouth shut around this guy? From the moment he’d opened his deep brown eyes, it felt like my brain was mush. I couldn’t function and seemed to have turned into a babbling idiot. Lord, what he must think about me. I truly hope I never found out. I’d thought I’d left my ego behind when I’d moved up the mountain. I was wrong because I didn’t think my psyche could handle him telling me I was a fool or not worthy.

Worthy of what, I wondered. Adam was a stranger. He probably had a wife waiting for him and the kids at some hotel, terrified when they hadn’t come off the mountain. Mind, he wasn’t wearing a ring or had a tan line from having once worn a ring. I glanced down at my left hand, grateful yet again that my tan line had faded. I didn’t need the daily reminder, despite the lack of jewelry, of the biggest mistake of my life.

And Adam didn’t feel like a tourist. I’d been doubting that assumption since I had made it, but it was the only logical explanation for why he and his kids were up on the mountain road. No one journeyed up that road unless they lived here or it was by accident, and those who lived here used four-wheelers or a snowmobile depending on the weather. When Jack had special visitors join us on the mountain for a time, there was a specific way we got them to their destination—and telling that visitor to drive onto the mountain themselves wasn’t it.

Cars, even a Jeep like the one Adam had been driving, would not make it very far up the mountain before they ran out of room. In fact, Tommy’s place was really the only one that could house a vehicle. I cringed at the thought of Adam having arrived at Tommy’s uninvited and in the middle of a storm. I doubted Tommy would have welcomed him inside or even heard him out long enough to realize he had kids with him.

So, if Adam wasn’t a lost tourist and he wasn’t one of Jack’s visitors, what was he doing on the mountain?

Since coming to the mountain nine years ago, I prided myself on staying out of other people’s business. They kept out of my way and I kept out of theirs. I did not believe Adam to be dangerous. Really, I could just provide him and his kids a safe haven for another couple of days. Then I could dig out the snowmobile to journey out to his car to see if there was any damage done or if it was possible to dig it out and get him back down the mountain. More than likely, I’d have to take him down on the snowmobile though.

I could do that, but I wasn’t going to.

Even if Adam wasn’t a tourist, that didn’t mean someone wasn’t waiting for him and his kids. What if there was an active search party trying to find them? The Whitefish police department wasn’t big. Last I heard, there was the sheriff, his deputy, and a part-time patrolman. The town was a safe one and a big police presence wasn’t necessary. Jack told me during high tourist times, some of the townspeople were deputized if they needed extra help. I’d met the sheriff when I’d first arrived at Whitefish. To be honest, when I went to town, I kept to myself and didn’t listen to any gossip. I have no idea if the man I met, whose name I had forgotten, was even still the sheriff.

There was no cell reception on the mountain. Spotty though it may be, one could get reception from Tommy’s place because there was a tower not too far from his property that butted up to the resort. However, when I’d first moved up here, I’d learned that, while my fellow mountain dwellers were reclusive and antisocial, they did look out for one another. Jack had gotten me a HAM radio so I could communicate with him or the others if I came across a problem. Other than my first winter here, and the time I’d fallen off the roof cleaning the solar panels, I hadn’t had to call anyone for an emergency situation. Most of my communications were requests for Tommy or my own check-ins with the others after a bad storm.

Jack had one in his store. He lived above it in a small apartment so, even if he was upstairs, he’d hear the beep or soon see the message indicator. He was sort of the fairy godfather to all of us. He lived in town but he looked out—or up—for us. I think he was more nervous than I was when I’d first arrived and revealed that I was moving up the mountain. He didn’t doubt me because I was a woman—at least, I don’t think that was it. He was concerned because I’d moved in late August, and there’d barely been any time for me to prepare for the harsh winter months ahead.

Corbin rarely answered his radio. Jack was really the only one who could get him to respond, and that was usually with bribes of food or beer next time he was in town. I didn’t know much about him, though I saw him occasionally on a hunt or at Tommy’s. He was sweet and protective. He was a big guy, probably the biggest if I lined the other mountain men up beside him, but I’d never feared him. There was something in his eyes that was haunting him. I’d never gotten up the nerve to ask him about his life. Each of us was on this mountain for our own reasons and it was our business to share if we chose. I certainly hadn’t told anyone my reasons.

Dalton was on the other side of my property from Tommy. He was also a veteran and had a prosthetic leg. When I’d first met him, I figured that the fake leg slowed him down, but honestly, unless he was wearing shorts, you’d never guess he was an amputee. He generally was the first to start the round of check-ins after a storm, as well as the first to volunteer to come help fix any damage. I thought he was hitting on me once, but he’d assured me he’d given up on love long ago and just wanted to be friends. If I was making pies, I always made sure to make extra in case I ran into Corbin or Dalton at Tommy’s.

Walter was even further up the mountain than I’d ever journeyed. I’d only met him once in the nine years that I’d been living here and probably couldn’t pick him out of a lineup. However, I would know his voice anywhere. Sometimes, when the loneliness got too much I think, Walter would get on the radio and sing. When his amazing bass voice came across the channel, I would lay down on the couch, close my eyes, and just listen. Some nights in the summer, I’d open my windows, look up at the stars, and bask in the vastness while his deep notes remind me that I’m not as alone as I sometimes feel.

And then there was Huck. I honestly didn’t know where Huck’s property was in relation to mine. I’d never met the man. From what I understand from Jack, he’d never come down off the mountain since he arrived some twenty years ago. When we did our rounds of check-ins, all we ever got from Huck was a series of clicks. I’d never learned Morse code, but Jack claimed he understood. I feared the day when Huck didn’t check-in and wondered how we would ever find him in person.

My radio was up in the loft. I loved my loft because of the giant windows that looked out onto the mountain. There was a slight drop about twenty yards from the back of the cabin. On days like today when the snow covered everything, even in the spring or the fall when the leaves were changing, and especially at sunrises and sunsets, I would sit up in my loft for hours. Just watching nature at its finest. My knitting and sewing equipment were up there too. When I had a new hide or knit pattern I was working on, that’s where I did it.

The loft wasn’t very big, only about eight by twelve, and I could keep an eye on the children from there.

I picked up my hand-mic and hit the code for our channel. Technically anyone in the world could listen in but it was rare to hear a stranger’s voice. There weren’t that many HAM radios left in use. At least, in this technological age, I doubted there was. I didn’t know actual statistics.

“Calling Charlie-Foxtrot-Two-Two-Niner-Charlie, over.”

I peeked over the rail to see that Lydia had rolled onto her side, facing the back of the couch. Henry was still laying on his stomach but his butt had risen further up in the air. I had no idea why baby butts were so adorable, given the deposits they left behind, but I smiled when I saw the position he’d moved himself into.

“Calling Charlie-Foxtrot-Two-Two-Niner-Charlie, over.”

If Jack didn’t pick up after my third hail, I’d hit the key to leave a message on the channel. He wouldn’t know which one of us was reaching out but he’d know someone had tried.

Then the speaker crackled. “ Brooke, is that you? ”

I keyed my mic. “It’s me, Jack. How are you?”

“Good. We’re snowed in and the locals are loving it. There’s a snowball war happening on Main Street as we speak.”

While I could imagine the scene he described, it didn’t hold my interest. “Has there been any missing person reports?” A long pause came across. I checked my channel and waited. “Jack?”

“Why do you ask? ”

I found that reply odd. Jack was usually very forthcoming with information. He wasn’t one to answer a question with a question. I opened my mouth to answer—and paused. What if there was another reason Adam and those kids were on the mountain? What if it had nothing to do with bad directions, a family vacation, or skiing? Lydia’s first question rang through my mind again. Are we safe here? I could see clearly the memory of the way her little body was turned, as if to protect her brother. What if Adam hadn’t been lost? What if he’d been running to someone or something? There wasn’t much up here on the mountain but if someone was trying to get lost, this would be the place to do it.

So what were the odds that Adam would choose to come to the same mountain where people were often hidden? But if Adam was one of Jack’s, why hadn’t Jack told me? I hadn’t gotten involved in his side business until recently. Jack mainly used me for when a female wasn’t comfortable being around one of the men.

What was different about Adam? Why the secrecy?

“Brooke, did I lose you?”

“No,” I answered quickly. “Um, I found tire tracks on my way back from Tommy’s on Tuesday just as the snow was hitting hard. Made me wonder if a tourist got caught up in it.”

I was generally not a liar. In fact, I despised liars and how they believed they could spin any tale to get away with something. But until I knew what Adam was doing on the mountain, I didn’t want to say anything that would draw suspicion on me or lead someone to my doorstep. Not that they could reach my doorstep without me knowing they were coming, but with the kids here, I didn’t want any surprises.

Never thought I’d be the overprotective mother-type but looking down at those innocent kids… I couldn’t risk it. No ch ances. Jack’s radio was in his store. Unless he was closed, anyone inside right now could hear our conversation.

“No one is missing as far as I know.”

That meant no one had reported Adam and the kids as missing. Not a wife, not the ski resort owner. So where had they come from? People don’t just appear on the mountain as if by magic.

The shower turned off below me. As much as I wanted to let Adam have his privacy, I needed answers. They were strangers living in my home after all. I needed to know I wasn’t harboring criminals.

A snort escaped me as I imagined baby Henry dressed up in an old fashioned black and white striped prisoner’s uniform onesie. While my concern was real, I couldn’t help but find that image adorable.

Huh, maybe there was a maternal bone in my body after all. Who knew?

“Thanks,” I said, wanting to cover the silence. “Have you heard from the others?”

If Jack realized I was changing the subject, he didn’t say anything. I was glad for that. With as much as I hated liars, it was a good thing I was a crappy one. I blushed too easily and got flustered. Who could remember all those stories anyway? It was too much pressure. Though sometimes I wished I could get away with a little white lie without the entire world pointing out that I was a crap liar. Maybe because we were over the radio and not face to face, Jack didn’t notice.

“Most checked in earlier. Haven’t heard from Tommy or Walter.”

I hoped they were okay. I’d seen Tommy on Tuesday and he was in for the storm. I didn’t like him there alone at his age, especially after his injury, but there was no way we were ever going to get him to move out of his home or allow someone else to move in with him. If Walter was in trouble, I had no idea how to even start helping him. I knew where his land was but not where his house was on it. Maybe next time I was in town, I should ask Jack to print me off a map of each of their lands so I knew where to go if they needed me. Mind, given that we all loved our privacy and all of us were armed, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to ever show up uninvited or unannounced.

“If you need me to go to Tommy’s, let me know. I’d rather do it in the daylight.”

“Old man’s probably ignoring me after last time. I suggested contacting family to see if they would come and help him. I think he destroyed his radio after that. Kept threatening to do so if I pushed, and of course I pushed.”

I snorted. Of course, Jack did. We were like his little lost ducklings and he was our mama duck.

“Might not be a bad idea to contact them anyway. He needs more help every time I visit, and he’s starting to notice I’ve upped my visits recently.”

“You’re a sweetheart for looking out for him. I know he appreciates it, even through his cursing. But I’d never break his confidence, no matter how much I think he needs help. He’s out there for a reason, same as the rest of you. I don’t know all of his story, but I do know that there’s a reason he hasn’t spoken to his family in over forty years.”

Forty years. I couldn’t imagine it. When I visit Jack’s store, he lets me use his desktop to check my email. I had renounced communicative technology when I’d moved out here. I don’t own a computer, a phone, or a tablet. All my books come from the library or a secondhand store. I don’t even have a TV or a DVD player since streaming would be impossible out here. However, in order to prevent my mother from siccing the FBI on my trail, I send her emails to let her know I am okay. I also gave Jack my username and password since my mother was the only person with that email address so he could send her a message from me when I couldn’t get down off the mountain. On her birthday, thankfully a summer date, I would call her from Jack’s landline.

I hadn’t spoken to my dad or brother in almost nine years. My sister, once my best friend, was no longer considered a member of my family tree.

My mother had mentioned visiting. Other than the state of Montana, she didn’t know where I was. If my mother took the initiative, she could trace Jack’s number to his store, but that still wouldn’t tell her where I was exactly.

I was beyond frustrated and fed up with my family. They were clearly as done with me as I was with them or my mother would have mentioned at least one of their names in her emails or our annual phone call. Yet, I never asked and she’d never offered.

It made me wonder. In forty years, would my family even remember I was alive? If something happened to my mother, would anyone even bother to tell me?

I was estranged from my family, but at least I still had communication with one of them. To not talk to anyone in forty years… That was difficult to grasp. What had happened to Tommy? Was it something he had done or they had done? Did it have to do with him being a Korean War veteran?

Realizing I’d been quiet for a while, I keyed my mic. “Forty years. Hard to imagine.”

“I worry in forty years you’ll be the same, kitten. I hope whatever drove you up to that mountain doesn’t keep you there indefinitely.”

Except I knew it had. I was never leaving this mountain. I loved my mountain. I loved my life and, most importantly, who I was on this mountain. I couldn’t imagine anything ever bringing me permanently off this mountain.

“It’s not so bad up here. It’s down there that I can’t stand.”

Jack’s laugh came across loud. “I got customers, sweetheart. Thank you for checking in and I’ll keep my ear out for any lost tourists.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Over and out.”

“Over and out,” came back to me.

I turned off my mic but kept the volume up on the speaker. If Tommy or Walter came across the channel, I wanted to hear it.

A throat cleared behind me. I spun around, still not used to having another human being in my cabin. In fact, Adam and his family were my first and only guests. Dalton or Corbin stopped by occasionally to check on me in person but they’d never been inside my cabin or I in theirs. It was a silent agreement that inside was sacred grounds. We’d sit on the porch or the stairs. Even around the fire-pit I had out back. But they’d never stepped foot inside.

Adam being here was…different. But somehow not intrusive. Before two days ago when I’d invited them inside, I never would have contemplated having guests.

“Sorry to scare you.”

I gave him a reassuring smile. He was still standing on the stairs, as if waiting for an invitation to the loft. He looked…good. Like really. Not that he didn’t look good before, but he’d clearly been ragged before. Exhaustion and the bitter cold could do that to a person. Right now, though, his hair was dark from the shower, towel tossed and hanging low behind his ears. His full beard looked washed and a little puffier. He wore his jeans but had a different shirt on. He must have had another shirt with him in that bag, or it had been under his long sleeve fleece. I hoped it was a clean shirt, which would give me time to wash his long sleeve one.

Adam was lean. He wasn’t bulky-muscular like I was used to from the men on the mountain. He had a defined figure though, and I liked the way he held his shoulders back. Stress still weighed heavily on him. The shower had done him wonders, but I could still see it in his eyes.

Maybe that was what had given me pause when I’d been talking to Jack. Beyond Lydia’s initial reaction to me, Adam’s obvious exhaustion had been different than the exhaustion of a man on vacation with his family. His exhaustion was one of fear. I could tell upon him waking that he’d been ashamed he’d fallen asleep. Not because he’d left his children with a stranger in her cabin in the middle of the woods, which was an unusual scenario in and of itself, but because he hadn’t been there for them. Why? To watch and care for them? Or was it something more? Was it because he hadn’t been there to protect them?

Protect them from what?

What could a man and two small children be running from that they would end up on a mountain? A tourist was looking less and less like a possibility.

“Who were you talking to?”

His question came across as casual curious, but I could tell it was more. He was afraid. His eyes kept flickering to the sleeping kids as if he needed to know where they were so he could grab them and run.

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 where here was, 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 resort hotel 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 of their 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 they didn’t know 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 infant and 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.

“I guess I had that coming. Truthfully, I’m completely out of my depth here. I have two little people who are counting on me and I have no idea what I am doing. I have no idea how to help them or protect them. Hell, I’ve spent over a day here and have only been awake for an hour of it.”

I couldn’t congratulate myself about reading him right regarding his shame for falling asleep. Wasn’t like he’d had a choice. The man had literally collapsed from exhaustion. He needed to cut himself some slack.

“Your children are safe, Adam. The snow would have covered our tracks here. Even if someone found your car, and that’s a big if given where I found you off the road, they wouldn’t automatically find you here. So you have time. We’re expecting snow again tonight. Not as much but it’ll still come. Anyone out there looking for you won’t get far. So take a breath and realize you’re safe for now.”

A shudder went through him. He let out a long breath, as if he’d been holding it for a while. Slowly, he sat down again. His gaze was straight ahead, but not on me. He was staring out over the loft rail again. “We haven’t been safe in a long time, so thank you.”

Despite my uncertainty before, I knew in my gut this man was not a criminal, but it was obvious he was running from something or someone.

Maybe my little mountain paradise could be his sanctuary as well.