Mountain Refuge (Mountain Mutineers #1)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Brooke

H ow did I not know that Corbin had his mother living up there with him? Mind, I don’t think I’d ever asked if he was married or had anyone living with him. He hadn’t said either. I wondered if anyone else had partners or parents living with them. I had made the assumption we were all alone in our own little slices of heaven.

While eavesdropping had not been my intention, my cabin’s open floor plan made voices echo from the loft more than I ever realized when it was just me. I was also willing to admit that I made no efforts not to eavesdrop. As capable as I was in defending myself, I was alone in the very literal middle of nowhere with a strange man. I trusted Corbin—as much as any of us who dwelled on this mountain trusted each other anyway—but there was something peculiar about Adam’s situation that had my hackles standing on end.

I wandered into the kitchen as I heard Adam’s footsteps descend down the stairs. My cabin only had one hallway, which led to my bedroom, the bathroom, and the stairs to the loft. There was little storage space in the cabin because I didn’t need it. My pantry was probably the size of my bedroom to help house my winter supplies. My meat stores were outside, kept frozen by solar panels on the roof. Any jerky I made was housed inside, not needing to be kept frozen. After my first winter here, I had invested in a meat grinder so I could make ground meat and patties. Well worth the money for the variety. In addition to learning how to make jerky, I also learned how to make different types of bacon.

I canned all my fruits and vegetables that I didn’t eat right away. I had a veggie garden at the back of my cabin that I kept during the spring, summer, and fall. Most of the fruits I picked grew naturally around and on my land. My favorite was huckleberry, but blackberries were more abundant. I made sure to pick any that grew too near to the house so they didn’t draw bears and prey animals close to home. Learned that one the hard way about five years ago.

My pantry also housed rice, flour, sugar, and baking spices. While I grew most things myself, there were some things that didn’t grow well in this area or were too difficult for me to make on my own. I bought those from Jack at his store and had learned tricks on how to keep them from spoiling.

A good part of the warmer months was spent prepping meals for the winter. I would make stews, roasts, soups, pies, lasagnas, and a variety of other meals, then I would dehydrate them so I didn’t have to freeze them. Dehydrated meals also took up less storage space. Add hot or cold water, maybe some spice later, and voilà! Dinner is served.

I always make too much food for the winter. First of all, one never knew if winter would last longer than normal. Sometimes, even if it wasn’t actively snowing, it was still too dangerous to journey down to town. Ice was a big concern in these parts, not just packed snow. Also, it didn’t make sense not to. It was better to be over prepared than under prepared.

But I prepped for one mouth to feed. I now had three and a half mouths to feed. Henry was going through the baby food Adam had brought with them very quickly. I wasn’t sure if that was normal for a baby to eat so much or if Lydia had been overfeeding him. Maybe I should have stopped her from giving him some of those meals. But how did one tell a child not to feed their baby brother when they were clearly hungry?

Nope, couldn’t do it. While I didn’t know how long Adam and the kids would be with me, it would still dip into my stores faster than I had anticipated. I had plenty, but I might have to do some calculations if they were here longer than a week. I’d have to watch my gas and water levels too. I generally could go a week before needing to refill my water tanks, but with three and a half people showering, eating, drinking, using the toilet, washing their hands… My water stores were going to go down a lot faster.

They shouldn’t be here longer than a week, I predicted. Not that I wanted them gone, but if their plan was to meet up with Corbin, it didn’t make any sense to delay once it was safe for the kids to travel.

Having heard bits of their conversation, I understood now why Adam was on the mountain in the middle of a storm. Corbin, and it sounded like Jack too, had lost communication with Adam. It had been their intention to tell him to wait to reach the mountain but they couldn’t reach him to relay the message. I felt better knowing that fact. Adam being stuck in that storm had been a freak accident. No one had put Adam in specific danger and Adam had not been reckless in his need to get onto the mountain.

What I didn’t understand was why Jack would keep it a secret that Adam and the kids were coming. As far as I knew, he’d always told us when one of his special guests was coming to the mountain before. We helped look out for them and offered supplies when needed.

The terminology Corbin had used was telling. Somewhat, anyway. He hadn’t said that Adam and the kids had left or even mentioned a leisure vacation exit. No, Corbin had said that Adam had gotten the kids out of there . Out of where? He’d also used the word caught . As in captured and taken against his will?

What if Adam was married? What if his wife or someone else in their family was abusive to him and/or the children? That would explain his running, but not why he needed to come all the way to a Montana mountain to escape. Abusive spouses could be cruel and manipulative, especially when kids were involved. But he must have family who could have helped him? Parents, siblings…?

Except when my life had fallen apart, my family hadn’t lifted a finger to help me. Even my mother, who claimed to love all her children equally, had chosen a side, and it wasn’t mine. Maybe his family hadn’t supported him either.

I hated that for him and those kids. No child should have to live life in a constant state of fear.

I knew Adam hadn’t eaten since he’d woken up. Other than using the bathroom, I didn’t think he’d taken care of himself at all. His concentration was all on his children. I needed to watch him to make sure he was taking care of himself too. There was no reason he shouldn’t be getting a full night’s sleep and three full meals a day up here. Maybe his time on the mountain could help him gain back the weight he’d clearly lost recently.

At the stovetop, I put a pot on the burner with a dehydrated soup mix and then added water to bring to boil. I chose soup for his meal because he hadn’t eaten in over a day. If I gave him something thicker or heavier, it might upset his stomach. Noticing the shredded coyote meat in the pot, I had the absent thought of what if he’s vegetarian? If so, Adam was not going to survive out here long.

It took a lot of carbs and energy to survive a Montana winter. Protein was important, and the best source of protein in these parts was game. I certainly didn’t have any shrimp in my stores. I did keep a lot of vegetables and fruits on hand, but most of my prepared meals had both meat and veggies in them.

By the time Adam had finished checking on his children, the soup had finished boiling and was now simmering on the stovetop. I reached into one of my cabinets for a soup cup. Most of my utensils, drink-ware, and dinnerware were bought at the thrift store in town. Since it was just me—usually—I only had a couple of sets. I didn’t use paper or plastic to preserve the environment and to keep my trash levels down.

Generally, I only accumulated a small amount of trash, which I would dump when I went to town. There wasn’t much about my way of living that left trash behind. Mind, now that I had a baby in the house who was going through diapers like they were a rare commodity, I had more trash in the past day than I had in the past year.

I gestured for Adam to sit at my table and brought him over the steaming cup. “I gave you more broth in that cup to get something easy into your stomach. If you can keep that down, we’ll get you some chunky bits in your next cup.”

He gave me a grateful smile. “Thank you.” He cupped the warm mug between his hands but didn’t move to take a sip. “I take it you heard.”

After going to the fridge to pour a glass of lemonade, I sat down opposite him. Most of the time, I drank water. I filtered it from my stores and kept it in the fridge in a pitcher. However, I did have dehydrated milk, lemonade powder, and iced tea powder. When I asked Lydia what she’d wanted to drink this morning, her eyes had lit up at the mention of lemonade. Rather than making her just a glass, I made up an entire pitcher for her.

“Sorry, voices echo in here more than I realized.”

Adam snorted. “I guess when you live alone and the only person you talk to is yourself, that’s not something you would pick up on.” Then he flinched. “Sorry. Was that insensitive to say? I wasn’t trying to knock your lifestyle. In fact, I admire it. It must take guts to live out here all alone.”

I shook my head, trying to reassure him. “It wasn’t. It’s just a statement of fact. I do live out here alone.”

He hesitated, then asked, “Why?”

I studied him for a moment. Despite feeling comfortable around him, we were strangers. I knew his kids better than I knew him. “That’s a story for another time.”

As in never , I added to myself. Adam had enough serious problems that he didn’t need to hear my sob story.

He looked down at his steaming mug. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

“You weren’t.”

Silence fell between us. I took a sip of lemonade, he took a sip of broth. I didn’t know what to say next. I hadn’t had to force small-talk in a lot of years.

“Corbin suggested we stay here longer. He doesn’t think it’s safe to travel with the kids right now. I don’t want to overstay our welcome?—”

“I was already planning on you staying about a week. With this next storm, it’ll be a few days before we’ll be able to dig ourselves out of here.”

“Thanks.” He took a bigger sip. “Deer?”

“Coyote.”

He nodded once. “That’s a new one.”

I cracked a smile. “Wait until you try squirrel.”

Adam actually looked curious. “Does it taste like chicken?”

“Better in my opinion.”

Again, he nodded. “I look forward to it. Though if Lydia asks, everything is chicken. I don’t need her accusing me of serving her Bambi and his woodland friends.”

“Definitely don’t want to scar the kid.”

He winced and I wondered what went through his mind just then. He cleared his throat. “I need to take inventory of the kids’ supplies. I don’t know what we have left. I don’t know where the car is to try to get what we left behind there. Corbin said he had supplies at his place in anticipation of our arrival. Despite the weather, he claims he can get it to us if we need it.”

Unfortunately, I think there were only a few diapers left. Lydia had changed Henry again just before Adam had woken up. “We could definitely use the supplies.”

“Is it safe for him to come out in this? I get not wanting to take the kids out, but what about him?”

“He’s a mountain man,” I said in lieu of an explanation.

“And you’re a mountain woman. Would you go out in this?”

He was looking at me like he was trying to read my soul. His eyes were so intense, they darkened. I liked how the black of his pupils blended in flawlessly with the deep brown of his eyes. His sandy beard twitched slightly and it made me realize that, even though he’d been staring at me, he’d noticed me staring right back.

I blinked, shaking my head to clear it. I sat up straighter. I hadn’t intended to lean forward towards him. My body had just done it.

“If I needed to, I could. In fact, if my neighbor doesn’t answer his hails by the end of today, I might just have to in the morning.”

Concern crossed his face. “I don’t want you putting yourself in danger.”

“My lifestyle is dangerous but this is the life I chose, the life I love. I know what I’m doing.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about his concern. It was sweet and not entirely unwanted, but it also brought on strange feelings in the pit of my stomach. Feelings I hadn’t had in almost a decade.

“How old are you?” I asked to change the subject .

“Thirty-six,” he replied. “Am I allowed to ask you the same?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I knew my hard lifestyle aged me more but I wasn’t ashamed of my looks or the years I’d lived up here. “Thirty-five.”

“Really?” Adam tilted his head to the side, studying me. “This isn’t a pickup line but I would have guessed younger.”

Now I knew he was lying. “I don’t have access to anti-aging skin-care products up here.” Even if I did, I wouldn’t use them. Too many chemicals.

“You don’t need them.” Having finished his cup, Adam stood to walk to the stove. He refilled his soup and took his seat again. “How long have you been living up here? Were you born here?”

“Nine years and no.”

His eyes narrowed when I didn’t elaborate. “We’re going to be stuck here a week together. The least we can do is get to know each other.”

“Oh really?” I leaned forward again. “And where are you from?”

Adam clamped his mouth shut. After a long pause, he conceded. “Touché.” I sat back. “How about this?” he continued. “We can talk about our lives without specific details.”

I was intrigued but not sure how that would work. “Like?”

“Like if we mention the name of a friend or relative, we use fake names or just the title. Mom, dad, sister, uncle… And we use fake locations too.”

“How does this get us to get to know each other better?” I was surprised he wanted to get to know me at all. After all, would we even see each other after he left in a week?

“We can still talk and learn, but it keeps the specifics a secret.”

And you couldn’t tell a secret you didn’t know. What was the saying? The only way to keep a secret between two people is if one of them is dead.

I didn’t like lies but was this even lying? It was storytelling, maybe. I’d still get to learn about him. Eventually, my curiosity won out. “All right.”

Before Adam could respond, a baby cry echoed through the house. He looked over his shoulder at his son, then looked back at me with a smirk. “Raincheck.”

I watched him go, wondering yet again why it was so important to me that I learn about him. He was a stranger. Even if I did learn all there was to know about him in a week, it didn’t change the fact that he was leaving.