Stranded with the Mountain Man Page 3

  That’s where she found Elijah, crouched over and tending to one of the coverings. She shifted, searching for a non-existent warm spot for her feet. The movement must have caught Elijah’s eye, because he glanced up.

  And scowled. “Why are you up?”

  “I needed to find the bathroom. And it’s a bit cold,” she admitted.

  His scowl darkened further, and Gia stepped back. He unfolded his long body and stalked towards her and Gia stumbled back farther into the cabin. But when he reached her, he didn’t touch her, simply gave her a once over, finishing on her bare toes. He stared at them for a long time, then blinked and raised his gaze to her face, and then over her head to the dying fire behind her.

  “Toilet’s that way,” he said, pointing at one of the two doors on the other side of the cabin.

  Gia nodded and limped over to the door. Once it shut behind her, she heard Elijah move around the cabin. Not his footsteps, they were still strangely silent. But a log landing in the fireplace grate, and him restarting the fire using the embers.

  Then, she took in what amounted to the bathroom. There was a shower, though it didn’t have a screen around it. Was the water heated? She’d have to ask before she used it, not wanting to get a massive shock of icy water.

  There was no mirror. Gia ran a hand down her hair, sure it was like a nest on her head but having no means to check. Had her makeup smudged? She probably had two-day-old raccoon eyes and oily skin. She grimaced.

  The toilet—at least, she assumed that’s what it was—was a small wooden box next to the shower. Gia stared at it for a long moment, searching for the flush, but she couldn’t see it.

  She cracked open the door again. “Um, Elijah? I don’t understand your toilet.” Her face flushed with embarrassment.

  He appeared in the gap, confusion on his face. “What about it?”

  “Well, there’s no flush or bowl or…anything.”

  His face cleared. “It’s a composting toilet. I’ll take care of it later.”

  “What’s a composting toilet?”

  “I use it on the garden. After it’s been properly composted, of course.”

  “Of course,” Gia said faintly, as if that explained everything. But she’d never even known such a thing existed.

  “I empty it once a day.”

  Gia nodded, but wanted to be one hundred percent sure. “So I go as normal? In the wooden box?”

  “That’s right.”

  Elijah didn’t seem at all embarrassed by this conversation, so Gia took his lead and nodded with as much dignity as she could manage. She closed the door, then gingerly did her business while Elijah went back to the fire.

  When that ordeal was over, she stepped out and washed her hands in the kitchen sink. A bar of soup sat on the counter, and if she had to take a guess she’d say it was homemade. This tap, at least, had running water, though it was icy cold. That didn’t bode well for a warm shower. She splashed her face with the water, and the shock of it chased away the last of her sleep. She eyed the soap. Should she wash her face? No, she was already freezing from the water and lack of fire, so would wait until she’d warmed up more.

  She shut off the tap. If he could have running water for a shower and a tap, why not for a toilet?

  “Elijah?” she asked, drying her hands on the rough tea towel hanging near the sink. “You clearly have water in your cabin. So why not install a proper toilet?” She ran her fingers through her hair to comb out the tangles as best she could.

  He came up beside her and leaned against the bench. Close, but not too close. Touching distance. Gia had the odd urge to run her hand over his chest, feel if those muscles were as hard as they looked.

  “Many reasons,” he said, distracting her from her thoughts. She needed to keep her brain under control, so she didn’t end up throwing herself at this stranger who had been so kind to her.

  “Like?”

  He sighed, and Gia got the distinct impression he wasn’t used to explaining himself.

  “I don’t have unlimited water. It comes from the stream out back. In winter, snow melts, so plenty of water. Summer, not as much.”

  “Okay,” Gia said with a nod, but he wasn’t done.

  “Plus, the garden needs compost.”

  “So you may as well make your own?” she asked.

  He inclined his head in a nod. “Biggest reason is septic tanks.”

  Gia frowned in confusion. “What about them?”

  “They need emptying and cleaning, or you get diseased. If you flush a toilet up here, where does it flush into?”

  And finally she understood. “Right, you don’t have underground sewers up here to take it all away.” He nodded in agreement. “And so it would build up in a septic tank forever.” Another nod.

  “Okay, that’s smart,” she admitted.

  “Not smart, just life.” But a smile bloomed across his face at her compliment, hesitant, but no less bright. It transformed his face from something rough and intimidating, to something sweet and humble. He didn’t act like he was used to being complimented.

  But he’d have to be smart to live in a place like this. Like the toilet, every aspect of life would require a different solution. It was so different to everything she was familiar with. She was better than some. She’d insisted Ray buy organic foods, and she’d often purchased artisanal items from people at craft stalls and markets. But that had been less about being conscious of the environment, or supporting local makers, and more about buying unique, hand-crafted items as a status symbol. Like having an exclusive Gucci bag.

  As they continued to gaze at one another, Elijah’s expression shifted from sweetness to something much warmer. A shiver ran down Gia’s spine in response. His gaze immediately darkened again.

  “You should get back in bed.” It was more of an order than a suggestion.

  Since her feet were freezing, Gia didn’t argue, and limped back to the bed. Clearly frustrated by her slow process, Elijah, without warning, strode up behind her and scooped her up in his arms.

  “Hey,” she protested, even as her arms wrapped around his neck for balance. He ignored her, pulling her tight against his hard chest and closing the remaining gap to the bed in a few paces. Her stomach tightened at the display of masculine strength.

  “Stay off that ankle,” he ordered as he deposited her on the mattress.

  Gia scowled at him, her skin tingling where he’d touched. “You’re very bossy,” she told him, brushing her fingers over the skin of her arm he’d touched. “Next time ask before you pick me up.”

  Elijah blinked at her, and then red bloomed across his cheeks. His gaze dropped. “Sorry,” he mumbled into his chest.

  Gia’s heart melted. “It’s okay. I know you were trying to help. It was simply a surprise.” She should tell him off more. She didn’t like imperious men. But she didn’t have the heart when he looked so contrite.

  He nodded. “I’m not…I don’t talk to people much,” he admitted.

  “I don’t suppose you get any visitors up here,” she commented.

  He shook his head. “You’re the first.” He raised his gaze and it locked with hers.

  All the breath left her in a rush. “You’ve never had a visitor? In how long since you’ve lived here?”

  “Fourteen years,” he told her.

  “Wait, how old are you? Surely you’re not more than thirty.” She tucked her bare legs under the blanket and held them against her chest for warmth.

  “I’m twenty-nine. My dad brought me up here.”

  “When you were fifteen?” she whispered. “You were so young.”

  He nodded. “He took me out of school.”

  “Why?”

  Elijah shrugged. “He was in the military for a long time. Wasn’t quite right when he got back. Paranoid, you know. Thinking the government wasn’t to be trusted.”

  “PTSD?” she asked carefully.

  He nodded. “I think so. Then, my Ma died. Car accident. He was already int
o survivalist stuff, living a simple life, but after that he wanted nothing to do with the modern world.”

  “So he took you away from everything you knew? After you’d just lost your mother? That seems a little cruel.”

  “He wanted to protect me,” Elijah told her.

  “Wow, that’s…tough.” She’d had her challenges, certainly, but she’d at least been older when she’d had to leave home. Though, now she considered it, not much older. She’d only been eighteen, and in so many ways she’d been as naïve as a child.

  “It worked out okay,” he told her.

  They fell silent for a moment, broken by the rumble of Gia’s stomach.

  “I’ll get you some breakfast,” Elijah said, latching onto the distraction as if relieved to have the conversation done with. He turned away and took the few steps into the kitchen.

  Gia cleared her throat. “So thank you for looking after me. I think after breakfast I should head off, find some transport out of here, right?”

  He turned, expression odd. “No.” He turned back to what he was doing.

  Gia’s eyebrows shot up and she straightened. “Excuse me?”

  Elijah turned back to her with a sigh. “You should stay off that ankle.”

  “Yes, but I can’t impose on your hospitality much longer.”

  “So you want to hike two or three days down a mountain in bad weather instead?”

  Gia fell silent, staring at him. “Two or three days walk?”

  “Yes.”

  “You live that far from a town?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you get supplies? Or see a movie? Have friends over?”

  He gave her an exasperated look, and Gia remembered he’d already answered that last question at least. “Wow. Okay. But serious question about the supplies.”

  He shrugged, focusing on what he was doing with his back to her. “I go into town once every month or two to pick up what I need.”

  “And you walk? And sleep in the wilderness? Even in snow like this?”

  He nodded. “I don’t go in really bad weather, but sometimes it’s hard to tell beforehand.”

  Gia nodded slowly. “So I guess I can’t go until my ankle gets better.” Unexpected relief filled her at the knowledge, because she didn’t actually know where she’d go once she left here. She’d had a vague plan for once she touched down on the other side of the mountains, but she’d focused too much on the escape from Ray to think far beyond that. It had been the most dangerous part, and she hadn’t been at all sure she would survive getting away from him. Now that she had, this was as good a place as any to hide out while she healed and figured out her next step. If she truly was so far from any town, there was no way Ray would find her. For the first time in a long time, she was safe.

  “Thank you,” she told him sincerely. “I’m sorry to impose, though.”

  “It’s fine,” he said, without looking at her. Gia didn’t know if he meant that, but what choice did she have?

  Her eyes were drawn to her bag in the corner. She was tempted to check the money was all still there, but it would probably be rude. She’d have to wait until he was out of the house again.

  “What happened to Beau?” she asked suddenly. She hadn’t given him another thought.

  “Who?”

  “The pilot. Did he…pass away?”

  Elijah turned to her and gave a sharp nod. The breath left her in a rush and tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, how sad. He was so kind to me. He saved me by landing that plane.”

  “He knew the risks,” Elijah said.

  Gia nodded. She suspected Elijah was well-familiar with risks, too. He lived out here, in a dangerous environment, all by himself. If something went wrong, he’d been all alone. No one to turn to, no one to call.

  “You don’t have a phone, do you?” Gia asked.

  He shook his head.

  “Didn’t think so.”

  She really was trapped here until her ankle healed.

  “In a few days when my ankle is better, will you take me into town? Or will you want to wait until it’s time for your supply run?”

  “It’s nearly time,” Elijah told her. He turned towards her, plate in hand. On it was two pieces of toast, hand sliced and grilled. He’d spread jam across them, but Gia couldn’t tell if there was butter. What resources did he have? Again, she was struck by the differences between their lives. If she’d run out of butter, she went to the shops and purchased more. Out here, he couldn’t do the same.

  “Do you have coffee?” she asked.

  Elijah shook his head. “I can only trade for so much. Coffee’s a waste.”

  She blinked. “How do you live without coffee?”

  “Never needed it.” Elijah returned to the kitchen to get his own plate and then settled into his armchair.

  “How about tea?”

  “Same thing. It’s an unnecessary luxury.”

  “I’ve never lived in a world where coffee was only a luxury,” she said, only partially joking. “Most people I know couldn’t function without it.”

  “I was too young to have a coffee addiction when I got here. I never developed a need for caffeine.”

  “This place is like the ultimate detox,” she said with a smile.

  He frowned in confusion. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Oh, it’s like a cleanse. You clear out your body from the harmful stuff you put in it.”

  His frown deepened. “Why put the harmful stuff in your body in the first place?”

  Gia laughed. “It sounds stupid when you put it that way, but mostly because it tastes really good.”

  He made a disbelieving face, and Gia hid her smile. Elijah’s life out here was so different. No fast food, or muffins from Starbucks, or coffees with whipped cream. Just pure—if flavorless—foods. No harsh chemicals, either, though Gia thought longingly of her beauty regime of expensive skincare products. No chance of replacing that out here.

  She sighed and remembered something he’d said earlier. “What do you mean by trade?”

  “The shop in town lets me trade for the things I can’t grow or catch myself. Like salt and flour.”

  “Oh, of course. You wouldn’t earn money out here.”

  He shook his head.

  “It’s been a long time since I worked, too,” she mumbled. As soon as she’d married Ray, he’d insisted she stay at home. At first she’d been glad for the break, since she’d worked constantly since she’d turned fourteen to help feed her family. But then, later, when she’d been bored and asked to get a job, Ray had refused. He’d wanted her to stay home and “relax”.

  Later, she figured out he’d meant stay home and keep herself beautiful. He even suggested a routine involving regular gym workouts, trips to the manicurist, pedicurist, hair stylist, mall, and so on in a constant cycle. She was to keep herself pretty, like an ornament for him to take out when it pleased him.

  Gia said none of this, though. She was working on not being ashamed of her past, but it wasn’t easy. And Elijah, despite being her rescuer and host, was a stranger to her. He didn’t need to know about her mistakes and weaknesses.

  Instead, she took a bite of her toast and moaned in pleasure. The fresh bread and jam were like nothing she’d ever had before. Even the fancy bread from the bakery didn’t taste like that.

  She opened her eyes to find Elijah staring at her, toast halfway to his mouth.

  “What?” she asked.

  Red stained his cheeks. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

  “Well, this bread and jam are amazing. Did you make them?”

  He nodded, but apparently whatever made him blush had also stolen his words.

  “Well, you have to teach me this.”

  “Okay.”

  They fell into companionable silence. Gia munched on her toast and relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. She’d spent months, and years, living on increasingly thin eggshells as she’d become less blind to Ray’s flaws and potential for v
iolence.

  Finally, she’d taken the steps to escape and start over. It hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but for now she was safe. She’d have to hope she was truly free.

  And that it wasn’t all a cruel illusion.

  Chapter 5

  Ray threw open the door to what passed for a food and drinks establishment in this Podunk town. It was tiny. Four tables and a bar-cum-counter at the back of the room. Jesus, what kind of backward place was this?

  “Get me something to eat,” he ordered Howie. “Make sure it’s not poisoned,” he added, glancing suspiciously around the room to ascertain its level of cleanliness.

  One of the tables was already occupied by a man in his early thirties or thereabouts. Ray chose the farthest table from him. Which, in the tiny place, wasn’t far. Howie stood at the counter and eyed the laminated menu as he waited.

  If the whole town hadn’t been visible from where they’d parked the car—it was literally a few buildings clustered together—Ray would have found somewhere else to eat. But the sign on the door to this place proclaimed it was the only place to buy a meal and wet your whistle within a ridiculous number of miles, and Ray didn’t intend to take any chances.

  He’d been traveling for the better part of two days now. He was tired and increasingly frustrated with this fuckup of a situation. He needed this solved, before anyone found out he had missing money and a missing wife.

  A young woman came out from the back room and plastered on a smile for Howie. “What can I get you?”

  Howie ordered two burgers. Ray almost protested, but since the choice was probably between that and grits and held his mouth shut. Fucking backward town. Probably wouldn’t see a decent steak for miles, let alone filet mignon.

  Howie slipped into the seat across from him.

  “Where do I have to drag myself next?” Ray demanded.

  Howie sighed. “Up the mountain.”

  Ray blinked. “What?”

  “This is the nearest town to the crash site. We need to leave the car here and hire a guide to take us up.”

  “Jesus Christ, no one told me there would be hiking.” He blew out a long breath. “Fine. At least it’ll be over soon. What, a few hours and I’ll have my money back?”