Somewhere Montana

by Platt, MJ

  * * * *

  Meanwhile, in the living room Mac was going over the next day’s agenda. They would be spending it on the mountain. Far enough away from the crash site, yet close enough to the hunting cabin that it could be used in an emergency. The children’s laughter drifted in from the kitchen. When he looked over at Swindon, Mac did not relish the anger exuding from him. It didn’t bode well for the children or Sage.

  “Now we get to the necessary part if you have to remain out overnight. Shelter. Let’s go out to the kitchen where I can spread the information out so everyone can see at the same time instead of trying to absorb each diagram individually,” said Mac.

  He led them to the kitchen table, taking in the activity at the counter by the stove. It reminded him of the times when he was JJ’s age and his mother had him ‘help’ make cookies, especially at Christmas. He caught Sage’s eye and smiled warmly. She turned back to helping GG squeeze a squiggle of frosting on the gingerbread man she was decorating. Swindon strode over to stand behind her.

  “My children are not here to do your work for you!” He grabbed her arm and spun her around, almost knocking GG off the stool on which she stood. “Stop.”

  Mac took a step forward, Jim and Dave on alert behind him, Buck and Alan standing back, watching. Two Feathers clamped a restraining hand on Mac’s arm.

  “Your children are not working,” stated Sage.

  The glare she aimed at him would have made a decent man back down.

  “They are learning how cookies are made in the age-old tradition of children worldwide—hands on. Why don’t you pay attention to what you are supposed to be learning and leave the children to enjoy what they are doing?” With that, she gave him a none too gentle shove backward, leaving a flour handprint in the middle of his chest. His glower implied retribution would be dealt out.

  Mac was seething. If it weren’t for the children, he would gladly haul the upstart so far out in the wilderness he would never find his way back. He had to unclench his jaw and his fists before he could continue.

  “These are the different shelters you could use. I want you to be familiar with all of them. But especially the snow cave, which you will be using tomorrow night. They can be built to accommodate three or four men. You will be making individual ones so everybody gets the experience.”

  Mac spread several sheets of paper on the table. One depicted a lean-to, another a tepee style built around a tree, a snow trench, a snow house, and the snow cave.

  “Why pick the snow cave?” asked Dave.

  “We’ll only be out one night and there’s an abundance of snow. On the mountain there are many areas where drifted snow collects and it’s wind packed.”

  “Why go up the mountain? There’s plenty of drifts in the fields,” said Buck.

  “Those drifts aren’t packed as tightly. Besides, they’re too close to the buildings. Can’t have anyone sneaking back to the cabins,” said Mac with a smile.

  The men laughed and nodded their heads.

  “Tomorrow you will be putting everything you’ve learned this week into one day and night. So, after we have coffee, I suggest you return to your cabins and study the instructions. We’ll meet here at seven A.M. to go over the packs before we start out.” He passed around the handouts on the snow cave to each man.

  Mac led the men back into the living room, giving them time to get comfortable and scan the handout. He answered any questions with in depth explanations. What was with Swindon giving him sly glances and not joining the discussion? The hair on the back of his neck stood up much as it had leading a patrol in Stan. That man would bear watching.

  When Little Mouse brought the tray of coffee and cookies into the living room, Mac was not surprised. He understood Sage’s reluctance to act as hostess tonight.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Okay, guys, gather ’round,” said Mac, leading the men into the living room. “Let’s see how well you’ve learned to pack your gear. Once we’re done, you’ll better understand why I suggested you get the army rucksack instead of the high-end backpack for winter excursions.”

  “Yeah. There’s a place for everything and each thing has its own place,” spoke up Alan.

  “Right,” said Mac. “Now what would you carry in the small outer pockets?”

  “Easy,” answered Buck. “Candy bars, granola bars, small high energy foods you eat while hiking. What about those bags of trail mix? The ones with nuts, M&Ms, raisins, and other dried fruits?”

  “Those would be better for when you called a halt to rest. They would be harder to manage while you’re moving and with gloves on. Too many small pieces. You’d drop more than you’d get in your mouth,” explained Mac. “Next are the larger outer pockets.”

  “The supplies for breakfast and supper,” said Dave. “Also an extra cap and socks, gloves, things you need to change if you get them wet. Bulkier items.”

  “What will you do with the rolled up insulated sleeping pad?” asked Mac.

  “Got two choices,” said Jim. “Attach it to the bottom of the pack or under the top flap. I should think under the top flap the better choice. Better chance of it staying dry in case of a storm since the ground cloth and pack cover are in the top flap.”

  “That leaves the main compartment,” said Mac. “Sleeping bag in the bottom. Extra clothing on top for easy accessibility. If you get wet, you’ll want to be able to change quickly.”

  “Why the insulated canteen?” asked Swindon.

  “It won’t freeze at forty below, if you got the arctic one. That gives you at least six hours of hiking time. Remember to drink plenty of water. It’s easy to get dehydrated, even in winter,” said Mac.

  Everybody set to making sure all was packed neatly and in its proper place. Mac checked each rucksack as the man finished it.

  “Everybody have safety matches in a waterproof container? Flashlight? Sunglasses?” Mac asked. Each man held up each item called for. “Make sure they are easily accessible, but in a pocket that you can close so they won’t be dropped or lost along the way. Now, let’s all head into the kitchen for a hearty breakfast.”

  At the table, the children sat quietly watching Sage prepare their plates. Mac watched her set the dishes in front of them, oohs and grins her reward. On the plates were fashioned mouse faces—a large pancake for the head, two smaller ones for the ears, with chocolate chips for the eyes and nose and warm maple syrup drizzled over all. Mac sent her a knowing grin. The men nodded their approval as they took their seats.

  “That’s what I call a feast,” stated Dave with a smile at the children. “I remember my mom doing things like this when I was little.”

  “Anything to get you to eat what was good for you?” asked Mac. “My mother used to do some sneaky things with broccoli and spinach.”

  That elicited comments from the others about foods disliked as children as Little Mouse passed around the dishes of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and fried potatoes.

  “Eat up,” Mac ordered. “It’s a long time until lunch and we’re hiking up the mountain today.” There was very little conversation as everybody heartily dug in.

  Soon the men were ready to head out. Mac led Sage into the office for last minute changes he wanted on the spreadsheets she would set up. After he gave her the instructions, he pulled her in as close as he could get her and kissed her deeply and thoroughly, holding nothing back.

  “You are like an addictive drug,” he moaned. “One I need a daily fix of and this has to last me more than twenty-four hours.” With his hand in her hair, he tilted her head for better access as she willingly opened to him. His tongue slid in to tango with hers. The heat quickly built until he felt he was nearing spontaneous combustion. He was already hard as steel. From zero to ready-for-anything in less than five seconds.

  Then common sense snuck in and whispered to him. This was neither the time nor place. He had business to attend to. Breaking the kiss, he held her close until their breathing became less ragged.

  �
�I have to go,” he said, his voice husky. “You better stay in here until we’re gone.” He ran his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips and left before he could replace that thumb with his lips.

  Mac walked away at the end of the line of men. Two Feathers led the group. Mac looked toward the office window as he passed by, thinking of what he said to Sage. Not enough, that’s for sure. He could still see the doubt in her eyes, even after that earth-shaking kiss. What would it take to make her believe in him? The first priority was making sure she stayed. Then to move forward one step at a time.

  Get the week over with first. Only two more days. Then he could make plans. It was definitely not like planning a foray with his recon unit in Stan. He needed something gentler, more seductive. Since the accident he hadn’t been looking at a future. Not long term anyway. Now he was looking forward, and every variation had Sage by his side. It was fate that brought the plane down on that particular mountain.

  * * * *

  Sage stood stunned, staring at the doorway through which he disappeared. She rubbed her fingers over her throbbing lips. Her tongue still tingled, her body wound tightly, wanting more than just his kisses. What had he said? Was it a declaration of love or had he only wanted her body?

  She wondered at her thoughts of happy-ever-after. Her life hadn’t managed to follow that path so far. She couldn’t read more into his words or actions. Leaving was the only solution. It hurt to even think about it. But she couldn’t let her love for him put him in danger. Diego was bound to find her sometime. She would think about it after Sunday. Right now the children were her priority.

  Grabbing her camera from the desk, she headed for the kitchen.

  Sage stopped near the doorway a few minutes later and watched the two youngsters help clear the table. When they spotted her, she waggled the camera at them and saw their faces light up with pleasure. It didn’t take long to get them into their snow gear. They practically tumbled over each other to get out the door, like two playful puppies.

  The morning was spent capturing on film all the happy moments and new experiences they had that week. Zeb helped with Belle. Since he was foreman of the ranch, Mac trusted him in all things. Sage knew he could be relied upon for the kids’ safety.

  JJ insisted on pictures of the cabin in which they were staying, inside and out. When they returned to the main house, he had to have pictures of the log ranch they were building. He assured Sage they would build one just like it when they got home, complete with horses and cows.

  Good luck with that, thought Sage.

  The rest of the day was spent in their usual activities. Little Mouse caught a snapshot of the two tykes curled up against Sage as she read them a story. GG had to have a picture of Little Mouse cooking supper.

  After supper, Sage gave JJ and GG the choice of sleeping at the main house with her or joining them at their cabin. They wanted to camp out like their dad. So Sage built a tent in the den with a table and blankets and put sleeping bags inside. She used the fireplace like a campfire where they toasted marshmallows and made s’mores. Naturally, that meant another washing of faces and hands before they could be tucked in for the night. She wasn’t sure they would ever fall asleep, the giggling and whispering coming from their sleeping quarters. She planned to sleep on the couch to oversee the ‘campout’.

  As she fixed her pillow and blanket on the couch, she thought of her kiss with Mac before he left with the men. What was he trying to say? Was it a kiss of love or seduction? Her love for him was undeniable. She had put everything into that kiss. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Her fear of being rejected again was still dominant.

  She laid down, propped up on the couch, and picked up the book she was reading. It lay open on her lap, unable to concentrate on the story. She thought of the conversation she had with Vanessa a few nights ago. Marcos was still in San Francisco and continued to follow Vanessa, probably thinking she would lead him to Sage. When he showed up at her work one day, Vanessa told him Sage had flown out in her father’s plane and could be anywhere in the world.

  Sage hadn’t told her where she was and Vanessa never asked. It was safer that way. Marcos could check with every airport, large or small, and find no record of her landing. In a way, she was thankful she crashed the plane where she did. She thanked her lucky stars that she had walked away from it with only the injuries she had sustained. Now that she considered herself healed, again the dilemma of whether to leave or stay presented itself.

  If she left, it would remove the danger from Mac and his family. That was a predominant concern. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him or anyone on the ranch. They had treated her with kindness and friendship whenever she was there. This was not their problem. It was solely hers.

  Yet, did she really want to leave? Staying would mean seeing him each and every day. She couldn’t let her love show. Although she would savor more kisses like that morning. She let her mind wander into the realm of their being lovers and felt the warmth suffuse her body. What type of lover would he be? Best to get her thinking out of that dimension. Her scars would deter any man. With that she turned out the light and snuggled down under the covers. She had to think of the children in her care first.

  * * * *

  Two Feathers led the men up the mountain, heading for where they set the snares. Buck gave a whoop when they came across his, which had caught a rabbit. Jim and Dave had also each caught one. Alan’s was empty, not even tripped. Swindon was irate when they reached his. It had caught a rabbit, but it was now gone. Around it was blood and cougar tracks.

  “We should have brought guns,” said Swindon.

  “No,” said Mac. “We don’t have an open season on cougars. Besides, you’re here to learn survival without one. You normally wouldn’t carry one on a hike unless you were hunting. As you can see, the cat only took one. Even if Two Feathers’ and mine are empty, we have enough to feed all of us.”

  Swindon wasn’t placated by Mac’s reasoning. Mac sensed he liked being the one who outdid the rest to prove he was better than them. Plus he no doubt wanted to get that cat, just for the pleasure of killing it.

  Two Feathers conducted them on a round-about circuit to an area near the crest of the mountain where there were few trees and a lot of ledges against which the wind had packed deep mounds. Mac sent the men out to scrounge up firewood while he and Two Feathers dug out the fire pit. Since this was an ideal site, it was where they usually did the overnights for the winter survival camps.

  A shallow creek ran nearby where they would get their water supply. It gurgled and splashed over rocks and gravel as it lazily traveled to join with Elm Creek above the falls.

  Soon the men returned, arms laden with dead limbs they had broken from trees and dug from the snow. Jim and Dave even managed to drag in a fair size dead tree.

  “How are you planning to utilize that?” asked Mac.

  “Knock off the limbs with the hatchet and we can use it for seating,” said Jim.

  “Then, if we need it for firewood, we can feed it gradually into the fire. It’s too big to cut up with a hatchet,” added Dave.

  “Good thinking,” said Mac. “Shows you’re using more than what you were taught. Keeping a level head in a time of crisis is necessary, and also team work. By working together you ensure all survive.”

  “Okay, now we set up camp,” announced Two Feathers. “Since you two hauled that in here, Jim, Dave, start working on it. Buck and Alan start the fire. Graham, we need six forked sticks, about two feet long and a little bit bigger around than a ski pole. Also three straight ones not forked. Preferably green ones. We’ll use them as spits to cook the rabbits.”

  When the camp had been set up, Mac called them all together.

  “Now comes the part of fashioning your sleeping quarters. I hope you studied your instructions well. I’ve picked out three drifts that look large enough and appear pretty tightly packed. Two of them could be two man, if you like. The one that’s
packed against the ledge over there to the left would be a good one for you, Graham. It’s the right size for a one man. Otherwise, we can try to find a couple more, if everyone wants their own,” said Mac.

  “I don’t mind teaming up with Dave,” said Jim. ”We’ve been in the same cabin all week.”

  “Same here,” added Buck. “Alan and I are okay together.”

  “At least I won’t have the children to worry about,” said Graham. “Some alone time would be good. What about you and your partner?”

  “We’ll take that big fir tree over there.” Two Feathers pointed to the large pine with the snow packed up around the lower boughs. “We can show you another safe habitat. So unpack your shovels and let’s get started.”

  “Remember, start your entrance tunnel as close to ground level as you can get. You want the sleeping level higher than the tunnel entrance so the air is warmer—no cold drafts. The side walls need to be three feet deep to hold the arched roof, which should be at least a foot thick,” Mac instructed them.

  “Make sure the opening is away from the downwind side. If it should snow during the night, you don’t want drifting snow blocking it. Then excavate your sleeping area to the right and left of the tunnel,” Two Feathers added.

  “Strip down to the least amount of clothing you need to be warm enough while digging. You will sweat and also get wet from the snow. You’ll want dry clothing to change into when finished,” said Mac.

  While the men excavated their snow caves, Mac and Two Feathers fashioned a tree-pit shelter. Enlarging the natural pit around the tree, without disturbing the snow on the branches, they soon had their lodging for the night. They added a layer of boughs on the ground for insulation. Over that they spread the waterproof ground cloths and sleeping bags.

  When the men finished the snow caves, Mac inspected them. Then he showed them how and where to put the ventilator holes to ensure fresh air while sleeping.