Stranded with the Mountain Man Read online

  Chapter 9

  Ray stomped through increasingly deep snow.

  Everything hurt. He’d been walking the better part of two days and his muscles were complaining. Loudly. Sleeping on the hard ground, with only a thin mat between him and the rocks, had added to his aches and pains. And now his feet were wet from the snow. He was sure their guide—Aaron—had given him defective boots on purpose. Smug asshole.

  The worst of it was they weren’t even close to their destination. They had a few days to go, according to the know-it-all leading them. He said they were going “slower than he’d anticipated”. Fucker. Just because Ray didn’t spend his life rolling around in dirt and snow.

  He should have sent Howie up with the guide on his own to collect the money, and, if Gia was alive, bring her back. Then Ray wouldn’t have to be in this miserable situation, where every breath hurt from the cold and the altitude and his lack of fitness.

  When he got back to civilization he’d have to up his daily elliptical session to thirty minutes instead of twenty.

  Though, if Ray had sent Howie up on his own, he wouldn’t trust the man would come back with the cash any more than he’d trust the guide. Not with the way Howie had been acting lately. The fucker would probably take the cash and fuck off to some fucking tropical beach somewhere.

  Which is exactly where Ray should be. He should have left the country the instant the money went missing. Written it off as a lost cause and hidden somewhere his investor would never find him. Abandoning everything he’d built was far more attractive now than tromping up the mountainside.

  Why was it taking so long? Was the guide screwing with them?

  Aaron had made them pay half upfront. So maybe he intended to leave them up here. Just fuck off and abandon them to the weather and the cougars or whatever deadly things were up here. Forget about the rest of his five thousand dollars and disappear with what he had.

  The guide liked showing off, too. He often bounded up ahead and then waited for Howie, and finally Ray, to catch up with him.

  Howie, the stupid fuck, was coping okay, which infuriated Ray even further.

  “Think of something motivating,” Aaron called from above. “Your wife is waiting for you, Ray. She needs your help. Push through the pain.”

  Ray would kill the guide. Not until they got back down the mountain, but still. He intended to end the smug bastard’s life.

  Think of his wife, indeed.

  He imagined his money, of handing it to his investor and clearing his debt. He imagined finding Gia. Wrapping his hands around her throat. Squeezing, squeezing, until the life drained out of her.

  Yes, that was motivation after all.

  He pushed past the pain, overtaking Howie until he stood beside Aaron.

  “How much longer, do you think?”

  “A few days,” Aaron said with a shrug.

  The vagueness of his answered concerned Ray. Did this jackass even know where he was going?

  “Where are you taking us?” he asked suspiciously.

  “To the area they think the plane went down in. We’ll start there and then fan out to find the wreckage. If there’s some trace in the forest of where it landed, I’ll find it.”

  “You better. I’m paying you well to do exactly that. And I’m not going back down this mountain without my—” He hesitated. “Without my wife.”

  He’d almost said money, but he wasn’t stupid enough to let that slip to his guide, not while the man held Ray’s life in his hands.

  Aaron squinted at him, but finally nodded. “We’ll do everything we can to bring her home,” he said. “One way or another.”

  Howie finally caught up, panting. A savage satisfaction raced through Ray at the sight. Not so tough now, are you, Howie?

  “Well, come on man. Don’t just hang around here. I’ve got a wife to find.”

  Chapter 10

  “I want to help with your chores today,” Gia declared.

  Elijah stilled from where he’d been tending his vegetables. “I’m happy to do it.”

  “I don’t like sitting around being useless. And I figure there’s a lot to learn.”

  Elijah considered her for a long moment and Gia squirmed under his gaze. Would he refuse? Would he judge her and find her wanting? A useless ornament, just like Ray?

  Instead, he nodded. “Okay. I could do with more soap. Have you ever made it before?”

  She blew out a breath of relief, relaxing tension she hadn’t realized was there, and shook her head.

  “The lye should be done. Let’s see.” He stood, took her hand, and led her over to a large barrel set on stone. Beneath it was a bucket catching leakage from the barrel.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Basically, you put the ashes of a hardwood at the bottom of the barrel—I have a mix of them—and then you run rainwater through it. You need straw and such for the base, but the most important thing is the ash and water. And in the bucket here…” He pulled it out and showed her the lye.

  “Oh. And you make soap with that?”

  “Yep. I should test it first, though.” He set the bucket down and headed to the chicken hutch, digging around until he produced an egg. When he was back, he cracked the egg on the edge of the bucket and dropped the raw egg right in.

  Gia blinked in surprise as the egg barely floated on the surface.

  “Yup, it’s ready.”

  “Okay.” Overwhelmed and on the back foot though she’d barely started, Gia swallowed and stared wide-eyed at what she’d gotten herself into. Chores out here weren’t simple, like she was used to.

  “Normally I’d make the soap straight from the lye like this, since it doesn’t matter if it’s only for me and I’m used to it. But for you we’ll crystallize it. Makes it a lot easier to work with.”

  “Okay,” she said again. She was starting to regret offering to help. She thought he’d ask her to make bread or sweep the cabin or something familiar, but all this was foreign to her. “How do I do that?”

  “Basically, you boil it until it turns to grey crystals. By way of black ones.”

  “Oh, so watch it?”

  “Yes, for now.”

  Gia breathed a sigh of relief. She could watch a boiling pot without too much trouble. Hopefully.

  Elijah set it all up for her on an outdoor fire and Gia sat. At first, she enjoyed warming herself by the fire and soaking in the crisp outdoor air. Soon, she was bored. She was used to stimulation. Phones, TV, people, constantly something happening. A boiling pot didn’t have the same entertainment value.

  She picked at her nails. She’d broken one sometime recently but hadn’t noticed. Before, this would have been a major disaster. Now, Gia didn’t care. It was freeing to be out here, forcibly away from everything familiar to her. Though she had an occasional urge to check her phone or browse the internet to see what was going on in the world, in other ways it was nice to be away from it. Peaceful.

  But she wasn’t quite used to the silence yet.

  “Is there something I can do while I wait?” she asked.

  Elijah glanced up from feeding the chickens scratching at his feet. He used scraps from the kitchen to keep them fed instead of commercial feed. Of course.

  “Well, what kind of soap do you want to make?” he asked.

  She blinked. “There’s options?” She knew better than Elijah that there were endless choices of beauty products on the market. But out here she hadn’t considered that would be the case.

  “Yeah,” he said, then strode closer. “It’s easier for me to make it from lard, but—”

  “Wait, the soap we’ve been using has lard in it?” She made a face.

  Elijah frowned in confusion. “Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s gross,” she said.

  Now he looked really confused. “You eat animal fat. How is it different?”

  “I don’t know, it just is. It’s weirder putting it on your skin.”

  Elijah sighed. �
�Fine. I have some vegetable oils. You can use those.”

  Gia relaxed. “Okay, that sounds good.”

  He rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem too put out by her vagaries. As a city girl, Gia had been wholly removed from the gross parts of consuming meat. It always came conveniently packaged for her. And she was certain her expensive, organic beauty products, didn’t have lard in them.

  But Elijah was right. There was no difference. Just that she’d never had to think about what she used, and she had someone else to do the dirty work for her. Someone like Elijah.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it’s silly. This is all so new and different for me. More raw, if that makes sense. I never expected this.”

  Elijah exhaled and gave her a small smile. “I know. I’m sorry if my way of life freaks you out. Let me know if you need me to take over, or do any of my chores away from you where you can’t see them, because it grosses you out. I forget life isn’t like this for everyone.”

  “That’s sweet, thank you. But it’ll be good for me to learn. I mean, I don’t want to be in an ivory tower for the rest of my life, cut off from the realities of the world. Even knowing where my food comes from. If I’m not prepared to see an animal be killed I shouldn’t eat it, right?”

  Elijah shrugged. “That’s up to you.” But his eyes shone with admiration.

  She squared her shoulders. And while her stomach roiled in disgust, she was determined. “I’ll use the lard. And I won’t be weird about it. At least, I’ll try not to be.”

  Elijah grinned and shook his head. “Nah, use the vegetable oil.” Gia slumped in relief that he let her get away with it. He continued, “It’s better for sensitive skin. And yours is very soft.”

  His eyes were intense when they met hers. All the breath left her in a rush and her stomach dropped like she was on a roller coaster. That gaze of his was potent. And the fact he’d noticed her skin sent sparks of pleasure racing through her.

  “Thank you,” she said, tripping over the simple words.

  He inclined his head in acknowledgment. Then, apparently unaffected by their moment, he changed the subject.

  “Would you like a scent in your soap? I remember that being a feminine thing.”

  She almost called him on the ‘feminine thing’ comment, but decided it was too much trouble. “What did you have in mind?”

  He shrugged. “What smells do you like?”

  “Cinnamon,” she said immediately. That scent always reminded her of baking comfort food and the most perfect hot chocolate recipe she’d ever tasted.

  He grinned and strode back into the cabin. Seconds later, he reappeared with a small jar and held it out to her. She twisted it open and sniffed.

  “Oh,” she said in pleasure. “Cinnamon.”

  “You can use it in the soap. Though it’s meant to be in oil form,” he said with a frown. “I’ll have to think how to do that.”

  “Why do you have this? Cinnamon is a very…frivolous spice for you.” Considering the only flavor he added to his food was small amounts of salt, cinnamon was a spice she hadn’t expected him to own.

  “It was my ma’s favorite,” he explained. “I saw it in the general store one day I couldn’t resist.”

  “That’s so sweet.”

  He shrugged and that delightful blush stained his cheeks above his beard again.

  The chickens found their way over and clucked at Elijah’s feet, demanding his attention.

  “I better get back to it. I’ll think about the oil while the lye boils.”

  Gia got up, too. She limped around the yard tidying things to occupy her mind. Elijah needed some books. Something to do in his downtime that wasn’t more work. And he also needed to put her to work, too. Properly, not watching a boiling pot. Now that she wasn’t sleeping all day, and they were only waiting for her ankle to heal, she didn’t want to sit around useless and bored while he did all the labor. She’d had enough of that being married to Ray.

  Finally, the lye was the grey colored crystals Elijah had described. “I think we’re done,” she called to him with a rush of excitement. He strode over and peered into the pot.

  “Looks good.”

  He explained what to do next. Then, he stood by as she heated the ingredients, mixed them together in the correct order, and finally poured it into a mold.

  “I only make one at a time,” he explained. “Since I don’t use much of it.”

  She nodded and covered the mold with the blanket he handed her.

  “You could sell soap, too, you know,” she told him.

  “With my leatherwork, you mean?”

  “Exactly. There are all kinds of handmade beauty products you could make. Face wash, face mask, facial moisturizer, hand moisturizer, body moisturizer, body butter, lip balm, all kinds of soap—” She broke off. “What?”

  His expression was blank. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Again.”

  She laughed. “I suppose that’s more my area of expertise,” she told him.

  “If there’s anything else you want to make, feel free. You can experiment.”

  Gia perked up. That actually sounded like fun. She could recreate some of her daily beauty routine with some practice. And if she had excess product, she could leave it for Elijah to sell alongside his leatherwork. It truly was a shame he lived so far from civilization. There must be markets in the area which would love to have stuff like that.

  She studied the soap she’d made, lightly covered in cloth. “And that’s it?” she asked. “So simple?” If so, she could definitely see herself doing it again.

  “That’s it,” he confirmed. “We’ll leave it covered for about a day, and then uncovered for a while—two to four weeks is standard.”

  Gia deflated. “Oh. I won’t be here to use it.” Who knew soap took so long to make?

  Elijah stared at her for a long moment, as if he wanted to say something and was assessing whether it would be welcome. But then he shook his head. “Maybe we’ll get lucky,” was all he said.

  “Maybe.” But the sadness, the wrongness, didn’t quite leave her. She was already attached to this place. Despite the challenges with the soap-making, she’d conquered them. There was a deep satisfaction that came with doing something difficult, with your own hands, and succeeding at it. Particularly in a place like this where messing up could be deadly.

  This is what it must be like for Elijah like every day. The satisfaction of working hard and making things with your own hands. More so, even. Gia had started with something easy. Soap was safe. They had enough lye to make a few batches if she messed this one up. But what if he ran out of that, or oil? She’d heard once that hygiene was one of the most important factors of staying alive in the wilderness.

  Gia didn’t have any particular urge to leave this place. She liked it here, and she liked Elijah. She could almost see herself staying here forever. Helping Elijah during the day, working side-by-side, and warming his bed at night.

  Not that he gave any indication he wanted that, but her heart was already yearning for this simpler world, which this smart, simple, sexy man embodied.

  She could picture it now. The two of them living in perfect harmony, making money by selling handmade leatherwork and organic beauty products. Coming home and tearing each other’s clothes off. It would be so idyllic.

  There was nothing for her once she left here. Worse, Ray might be searching for her. She hadn’t even considered he might be, but from what she knew of Ray it would make sense. He would want his money, and he would want her back. His wife. His property, as much as his money was.

  Gia couldn’t help a glance through the trees. Surely he wouldn’t find her here. They were so far from anywhere, anything.

  A shiver ran down her spine. She knew firsthand how determined Ray was. If he wanted to find her, he’d move mountains to do so. And he had a frightening amount of resources at his fingertips, amassed through a lifetime of being on the wrong side of the law. Of being one of the
most feared men in the city.

  A lump formed in her throat. She had to remind herself he wouldn’t look for her here with Elijah. She was safe, hidden away.

  Hopefully for a long time.

  Chapter 11

  On a high after her adventures with the soap, Gia decided to cook something nice for Elijah. He’d taken care of her since she’d arrived, as well as doing all the heavy chores, so it was about time she contributed.

  She poked around the pantry and settled on a vegetable curry. She’d make flatbread cooked in a pan instead of rice to accompany it. Elijah had said there wasn’t any fresh meat, so something vegetarian would be a good option. Plus, Gia was still sensitive from the lard discussion earlier.

  She collected as many types of fresh vegetables as she could find at the bottom of the pantry. Potatoes, carrots, pumpkin, onions. She left behind things like parsnips and turnips, since they wouldn’t work with the dish. She went through the jars which took up most of the pantry space. They all had dates on them, which must be the date they were canned, not the best before date. She found a few labeled ‘tomatoes’, most of which looked crushed, but a few were whole. That would work for the base. One jar was labeled ‘green beans’, a perfect addition. Plus some other bits and pieces she could use. She also found a few more spices squashed at the back of the pantry, which was more than she expected.

  Elijah didn’t keep many pots and pans, so she took the chopped vegetables to the pot over the fire and made the dish in there. Once it bubbled, she focused on the bread.

  Pride welled in her. She wasn’t completely useless. She hadn’t needed a recipe, and had managed to put together something tasty with limited ingredients.

  This world was different, yes. But she could make it work. She’d proven that to herself. And maybe, just maybe, Elijah would be proud of her, too.

  And even ask her to stay.

  The thought caught her by surprise. It shouldn’t have. She was happy here, and she could see herself now, living her life like this. Making soap and cooking meals and sewing by firelight. She’d make some improvements to the house—a bigger bed for one thing—but overall she was safe and happy here.