Stranded with the Mountain Man

by Aislinn Kearns

  He taped the backpack to the woman, and the woman to the litter to hold her still. He kept the duct tape for any repairs, shouldered his makeshift harness, and set off on the long, tiring journey to home.

  Chapter 2

  Ray slammed down his phone.

  Leaning on his oversized mahogany desk, he took a deep breath, pushing down his anger. He barely succeeded.

  “Howie!” he called. The door to his office swung open, and his right-hand man stepped through.

  “Yes, boss?” Howie was a big man, chosen specifically for his intimidating appearance. He doubled as a bodyguard when Ray needed one, which these days was every time he stepped outside.

  Howie also wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, a fact Ray found very convenient. He followed orders, but wasn’t smart enough to question Ray’s instructions, or think he could pull a coup on Ray and take over.

  “Any sign of her?” He didn’t need to specify the her to which he referred. There was only one woman in his life who had disappeared. The same one who’d taken half his money.

  His fucking wife.

  “No, boss,” Howie informed him. “We’re still looking.”

  That bitch must have planned her escape well. No other way she could have got away so cleanly if it had been a spur of the moment thing. While he’d lavished her with gifts and praise—and the occasional reprimand when she got out of hand—she’d been plotting to steal from him. Betray him.

  And Ray intended to make her suffer for it, as soon as he got his hands on her.

  “What’s the holdup?” he snapped. “She’s one woman, and you have all my resources at your disposal. You can’t find one person who’s seen her?”

  “No, boss.”

  “She’s not a fucking criminal mastermind,” he growled. “She’s made a mistake somewhere. You need to find it.”

  “Yes, boss,” Howie said with his usual calm. But something flickered in his eyes, something suspiciously like insolence. Ray’s nostrils flared as he again tried to calm himself. Under normal circumstances Howie would be punished for such an attitude. But for now, regrettably, Ray needed him.

  “Just find her,” he said, and waved Howie away.

  Howie gently pulled the door closed. The man was almost expressionless, which infuriated Ray as much as it pleased him.

  As soon as the other man was out of sight, Ray paced across his office, polished shoes sinking into the thick carpet. It was a bad habit he’d developed, one that broadcast his nervous energy to anyone in the vicinity. But it helped him think, so he allowed the indulgence while he was alone.

  His wife was only a means to an end. He didn’t care she was out of his life. She was disposable and had outlived her usefulness. If she hadn’t run away, he would have taken care of her himself before too long.

  But his money? That was unacceptable.

  Quite apart from the betrayal, which was offense enough to be punishable by death, he needed the fucking money back yesterday. He had an investor he needed to pay. And without that money, he didn’t have enough to cover it.

  Which was a big fucking problem. Because the man Ray owed the money to was even less forgiving of debts than Ray himself.

  Was Gia in the city? Or had she already left?

  If she was smart, she would have left, but he didn’t put a great deal of faith in her intelligence. Plus, she didn’t know anyone outside of the city he owned. He’d made sure of that.

  But he had eyes and ears all over the city, and no one had seen her since she’d left three days ago. Not even her mother. No way all his spies kept her from him. Even if she paid them off using the money she’d stolen, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to betray him, too.

  They all knew what he was capable of. He’d demonstrated it enough.

  Sick of his thoughts, he turned on the television, hoping he’d find news of his enemies being taken down. His contacts in the police force said a raid was imminent.

  Not on any of his properties, of course. He paid them too well to let that happen. But while he was the biggest fish in town, he wasn’t the only one. For now. If the police on his payroll did as he’d instructed, he might soon be the true king of this city, with no competition in sight.

  The news didn’t mention anything about the raids, so he tuned it out and focused on work. It had been piling up since he’d discovered Gia’s absence. He still couldn’t concentrate, stewing over Gia and her betrayal. He couldn’t let this stand.

  And then, like a miracle from God, he was given a gift.

  The news reported Gia Angelo had been in a plane crash in the mountains. They even gave an approximate area she might be in. Her face—beautiful, traitorous—flashed on the screen, alongside that of a man Ray assumed was the pilot. He wasn’t listening to the newscaster. He was too focused on his bitch of a wife.

  He couldn’t wait to get his hands around her faithless neck.

  “Howie,” he called again.

  The door opened. “Yes, Boss?”

  “Get the jet. We’re going on a trip.”

  Chapter 3

  Unfamiliar smells woke her. Burning wood. Meat cooking. Man.

  Her eyes snapped open.

  A small, one-room cabin. No, wait, there were doors, but they were shut. She lay in a narrow bed under a scratchy blanket. In the wall above her head, a wood fire burned in a stone fireplace, dancing heat across her skin. The flames and the single window were the only sources of light. Above the stove hung a pot from which Gia assumed the meat-cooking smell came from.

  Across the room, beneath the window, was a tiny kitchen, though only some elements were familiar to her. A strange-looking oven. A cupboard to act as a pantry. A small sink.

  And a large man with his back to her.

  Gia shied back against the wall. The man was completely unfamiliar to her. He was tall. Taller even than Ray’s right-hand man, Howie, was. More solid, too. His shoulders were broad, and the way his woolen shirt pulled across his back revealed plenty of muscles. She’d always liked muscles on a man.

  He moved quietly for such a big man, his footsteps silent as he shifted around the small space. Dishes. He was doing dishes.

  The simple task made her relax slightly, though she still had no idea where she was. What had happened?

  Oh yes. Ray. The money. The plane crash.

  She should be dead. Instead, she was warm and alive and, hopefully, safe.

  Her eyes followed the man as he moved, drawn by his quiet strength. She pushed passed the fogginess of her brain and assessed herself as best she could without moving, focusing on where her body hurt. Her ankle ached the worst. And her muscles protested. But she didn’t feel like she’d been violated in any way.

  Gia carefully adjusted the position of her ankle. She still wasn’t ready to let her mysterious companion know she was awake. And then her mind blurred over and she wasn’t awake anymore.

  The next time she woke up, she remembered the man and the cabin even before she opened her eyes. He wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. He sat in an armchair by the fire, which was now the only source of light in the room. She hadn’t seen his beard before. Nor his piercing eyes.

  The eyes staring right at her.

  Gia blinked, then gave a tentative smile. “Hi?”

  He inclined his head. “Hungry?” he asked. His voice was low and rough, as if he didn’t use it often.

  Her stomach rumbled at the word, letting her know she was, indeed, hungry. She nodded, swallowing to wet her dry mouth.

  He stood and picked up a bowl from the stone floor. It was made of wood and polished smooth. He ladled some of whatever was in the pot into the bowl. Instead of handing it to her, he crouched beside the bed.

  He was even bigger up close. Some part of her told her to flee from him, but she was locked in place by his intense gaze. Her mouth went even drier than before.

  After a long moment, he dipped a spoon—also made of wood—into the bowl and held it out to her. Gia shook her head.

&nbs
p; “I can do it.”

  He gave her a doubtful look, but set the bowl on the ground. Then, without warning, he cupped the back of her neck and levered her upright.

  Gia squeaked in surprise. He stacked blankets and pillows behind her with one hand, and then gently laid her down again. His thumb accidentally brushed her cheek as he pulled his hand back, making her shiver.

  He picked up the bowl and handed it to her, hands hovering at the transfer, ready to catch the bowl if it fell. Gia was weaker than she’d expected, her arms trembling, so she placed the bowl in her lap and picked up the spoon.

  Soup, with root vegetables and meat. It wasn’t bad, though a little flavorless. She wasn’t about to ask her rescuer for more salt, though. At least, she assumed that’s what he was.

  “Did you save me from the plane?” she asked, then took another mouthful of soup.

  He nodded.

  “Thank you,” she told him sincerely. “You saved my life. I would’ve died if I’d been left out there.”

  He gave a one-shoulder shrug.

  “And this is your cabin?” she pressed.

  “Yes,” he answered. Gia smiled at the fact she’d managed to get a word out of him.

  “So the plane crashed near here?”

  He shook his head. Then, apparently recognizing she needed more information, he added, “I was hunting.”

  Gia frowned in confusion. “The crash didn’t happen near here, but you got me here anyway?”

  He nodded.

  “And I didn’t wake up?”

  “A few times. You wouldn’t remember.” Her concussion must have been serious.

  “How far away is the crash site?”

  “About a day.”

  “Did you drive?”

  He eyed her strangely. “Don’t have a car. I walked.”

  “You…” She paused. “You walked a full day. Carrying me.”

  He shook his head and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I made a litter,” he said, and her heart thumped again. “I pulled you.”

  “That’s…wow. Thank you.” That must have been quite a feat of physical strength, and yet he showed no signs of wear. He must be incredibly fit and strong. She was sad she’d missed seeing it. She’d never met a man who could do something like that, let alone would.

  He shrugged, as if it was nothing to him. Was it truly no big deal, or was he simply the most modest person she’d ever met?

  She was barely halfway through her bowl of soup, but she was already sleepy. Her head swam, making it difficult to concentrate on the questions she knew she should ask. No doubt it was an after-effect of whatever had knocked her unconscious. Soup dribbled down the front of her dress when her weak hand shook. Her rescuer whisked the bowl and spoon away.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  He ignored her apology.

  She sank further into the blankets behind her. “I don’t know your name.”

  “Elijah,” he muttered, then stood. He dumped the rest of her soup back in the pot, then took a cloth and unhooked it from above the fire. He carried it over to the kitchen area.

  “I’m Gia,” she told him, then yawned.

  “Gia,” he repeated, as if testing the name. After doing something in the kitchen she couldn’t quite see, he returned to his armchair.

  It was awkward falling asleep with this strange man staring at her. Her body clearly had other ideas, tugging at her to succumb to the sweet lure of unconsciousness. Her mind drifted. Soon she’d be away from this nice man, this handsome man, and in her own apartment somewhere. No one to tell her what to do or how to act. No Ray.

  She had her money, now all she needed was—

  She sat up. “My bag,” she gasped out.

  Elijah eyed her for a long moment. Then he pointed to the corner, where her backpack lay, undamaged.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for bringing it.”

  He nodded.

  She yawned again. “I’m sorry you have to put me up. I’ll go in the morning.”

  If he made a reply, she didn’t hear it, since she was out like a light.

  Her soft breaths filled the cabin.

  Elijah couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Marveling at her. That someone was here—in his home, sharing his space—was enough to fill him with a kind of wonder. But adding the fact she was a beautiful woman? That made his heart ache in a way he’d never experienced before.

  He rose from his armchair and silently paced about the room, keeping his back to her as much as he could so he wouldn’t stare at her. It had been a long time since he’d been around other people, but even he knew staring at someone was frowned upon.

  His gaze danced back to her. Just to check she was okay, he told himself. She’d had a head injury after all. But he knew himself better than that.

  He simply liked the sight of her.

  Her dark hair shone, falling in silky waves over her shoulder. So unlike his bristling hair and beard. Her skin glowed in the firelight. That, too, was soft, though he hadn’t meant to touch her. To notice. He rubbed his thumb against the calloused pads of his fingers. She was so different.

  The bag of money drew his eye, reminding him she wasn’t all she seemed. Nothing good came of large bags of money and the people who carried them. At least, he assumed that was the case, from his limited experience in the world. He shouldn’t trust her, would have to watch her.

  It wasn’t only the money telling him not to get too attached to this woman. Her clothes, her hair. Everything about her told him she’d never stick around in a place like this. She’d leave the mountain as soon as she could.

  Which was good. He liked his solitude. It’s why he still chose to live here in isolation, long after his father had passed away. If he wanted regular company, he could move to the city, or even into the town further down the mountain.

  Not that it was much of a town. More a collection of buildings with a few handfuls of people. But still, if he lived there he’d have all the regular company he could stand.

  But he didn’t. He went down every month or two for supplies, and then he came back to his cabin. Silent, cozy.

  Lonely.

  He shook his head to clear it. Thoughts like that wouldn’t help anyone. He liked it here, he did. He didn’t know any other way of life, and couldn’t see himself moving to a city. What would he do all day? He couldn’t hunt in the city. Couldn’t chop wood, or tend his vegetables, or any of the things currently filling his days.

  So, yes. He liked it here. Alone.

  Mostly.

  Though, the woman—Gia—wasn’t loud or unpleasant. So far she’d been a perfect guest, asleep most of the time. The real test would be when she woke up for real. And he’d had someone to talk to. Briefly. Not about anything important, just the little things. But he liked it all the same. He supposed if it was with someone like her, he wouldn’t mind sharing his cabin with them, for a while at least.

  Frustrated with himself, Elijah opened the door and stepped into the cold night air. The bracing shock of it cleared his mind. He needed to stop thinking these things, stop thinking of all the ways life could be different.

  Because it wasn’t. He wasn’t different.

  And spending too long in your imagination was a sure-fire way to become unhappy. At least, that’s what his Pa had always said. He’d been taught to focus on the here-and-now. Not the what-ifs, or the what-could-have-beens. That way of life had served Elijah well in his almost thirty years on this Earth. No sense in changing it now.

  That clear in his head, Elijah returned to his armchair by the fire. He sunk down, laced his fingers over his stomach, and drifted off to sleep.

  And dreamt of all those what-ifs.

  Chapter 4

  Gia woke to weak sunlight filtering through the cabin’s single window.

  Something was wrong. After a long moment, Gia realized it was the silence. She’d never heard such an absence of sound in the city before. It was creepy. And peaceful.

  She
shivered. The fire had died. Her new friend, Elijah, was nowhere to be seen.

  It was tempting to stay under the blanket, where she was at least somewhat warm. But a bathroom beckoned, and after that, breakfast and a cup of coffee. But first, she needed to find her host.

  She sat up, wrapping the blanket around her as best she could to keep out the cold. The stone floor was freezing beneath her bare feet, but she didn’t have any slippers to protect them. Elijah must be used to the cold, if he didn’t have any rugs or heating or anything.

  When she stood, pain rocketed up her leg. She gritted her teeth and looked down to see her ankle was swollen. When she prodded at it, she concluded it was sprained, not broken, but it was an inexpert assessment. Hopefully it would heal quickly. Traveling around on a sprained ankle wouldn’t be fun.

  The cabin only had one exterior door, so she figured that was a safe bet to find him, provided he was still around. She limped across the floor, bouncing more than usual to keep her feet off the freezing stone as much as she could.

  She opened the door and gasped. Forest. It surrounded the cabin in every direction she could see. And it was deep, eventually fading into darkness under the canopy of trees. She was far more isolated in this cabin than she’d believed possible. If she’d considered it at all, she would have known she was miles from civilization. But she was a city girl with no frame of reference for living in a place with no neighbors at all.

  The cabin itself was in a small clearing. Winter light pushed through the clouds, giving the whole world a grey cast. Just inside the tree line was a small wooden structure. It had a ramp, so Gia figured it must house some kind of animal. Dog? Chickens? She couldn’t tell from here.

  Other structures she didn’t recognize dotted the space, but some things she could figure out. Leather tanned over to one side, and raised garden beds stood in orderly rows right outside the door. There were no visible plants. Some beds were empty, and others had small triangular coverings over them.