The Outpost (Jamison Valley Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  “Hi,” I called.

  Beau’s ax stopped mid-stroke and he set it against a big stump. “Hi. Sorry if I woke you.”

  “It’s okay. What time is it?”

  “A little before noon.”

  Whoa. I’d slept a lot longer than I’d thought I could. Once I’d gotten settled into my cot, it had been surprisingly comfortable. The heavy sleeping bag combined with the warmth from the wood fire had created a cocoon-like bed. That, combined with my exhaustion, had made me dead to the world for almost nine hours. I hadn’t slept that long in years. Six hours was usually my max.

  “Have you been up for long?” I asked.

  He nodded. “A few hours. I turned on the water pump so the bathroom should be working for you now.”

  “There’s a bathroom?” I asked in shock. Last night, he’d said there was water but I’d assumed it was only for the kitchen sink.

  “Yeah. Didn’t you see the door in the back corner?”

  I’d thought that was another exit. The prospect of an actual toilet that flushed had me turning and practically sprinting inside. Ankle and rib pain be damned, this bathroom I had to see immediately.

  Beau’s thudding footsteps followed and Boone appeared from somewhere to trot at my side.

  “It’s not much,” he warned as my hand reached for the bathroom’s doorknob.

  “Who cares? It’s not an outhouse.”

  His chuckle echoed off the log-wood walls.

  Pulling open the door, I stuck my head into the outpost’s bathroom. The toilet was old and the once-white porcelain had yellowed. The shower was no bigger than a standing coffin. The mirror above the pedestal sink was warped and cracked in one corner. The green tiles were about as clean as you’d expect to find in a dive bar.

  Tears of joy filled my eyes. It was the most beautiful bathroom I’d ever seen.

  “Thank you,” I said, turning around to Beau.

  His face softened. “Not a problem.”

  “I’m sorry about last night. I know you’ve sacrificed a lot to bring me up here and keep me safe. I don’t mean to be ungrateful. It was just . . . a shock.”

  There were very few people in the world whose opinion of me mattered. In just one night, Beau had added himself to that list. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was an ungrateful brat.

  “You had a rough day,” he said. “I get it. Coming here couldn’t have been easy for you. I should have done a better job explaining what you’d be getting yourself into.”

  He was such a nice guy. The anti-Anton. “Well, thank you for all you’re doing for me.”

  “You’re welcome.” His eyes locked with mine and I fought the urge to move into his arms. To press my nose against his damp shirt and pull in an intoxicating breath. His broad chest was so tempting. I could just make out a smattering of chest hair beneath the white cotton. I was a sucker for chest hair, that one defining trait that separated the men from the boys.

  I was just about to inch closer, to give into the tractor beam that was his body, when Boone started licking my fingers. I gasped, yanking my hand away from his tongue’s reach.

  “Boone.” Beau snapped his fingers and the dog instantly retreated to his side.

  “He’s fine. Sorry. I’m just not used to pets.”

  “It’s okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck before bending to scratch behind Boone’s ears.

  I shook off the haze of attraction and summoned up a smile. Beau and I had electricity, no doubt about it, but acting on our chemistry would only court more complications. I needed to keep reminding myself of that until the lust faded.

  The giant backward step he took told me that he must have been thinking the same thing.

  “All right, Goliath. What’s the plan for today?”

  He rolled his eyes.

  Why did everyone react so negatively to my nicknames? Didn’t they realize I was kidding? Well, I was kidding when it was someone that I liked. My nicknames for assholes tended to be a little on the evil side. Felicity’s ex-boyfriends had received some of my more creative monikers.

  “The plan is you’re going to eat while I clean out the bathroom,” he said. “Then you can take a shower if you’d like. The water should be heated up by now.”

  “I can clean the bathroom,” I offered.

  “You can, but you’re not going to. In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s more to do than just the bathroom. Never fear, you’ll get your chance to clean in there, but I don’t want you on your hands and knees scrubbing the floor with cracked ribs. Let’s take it easy. You can help me with the lighter stuff today.”

  I decided not to protest. My ribs were so sore that it hurt to breathe. I didn’t think I’d physically be able to clean behind a toilet and in the cramped shower.

  “Okay. Food sounds good.”

  “What do you feel like?” he asked. “The menu’s limited until we can get the kitchen cleaned out and dishes washed. Today, your choices are granola bars or Pop-Tarts.”

  I chose a granola bar and followed him toward four huge plastic tubs, watching as he rifled through the dry goods he’d purchased last night. Next to the tubs were three large red coolers.

  “How long will all of this last?” Beau’s superhuman physique must require at least four thousand calories a day.

  “Probably three weeks with the two of us.”

  “Then what?” My hopes soared at the prospect of going into town to refill foodstuffs. Even if it was just a day trip, I would gladly welcome a quick reprieve into civilization.

  “Well, that gives us three weeks to teach you how to hunt and fish. I’ll give you the quick and dirty about which berries and roots you can eat. I’ll head back to town and you’ll be on your own. I should be able to come back before winter though and bring you some supplements.”

  My mouth fell open as panic seized control of my major organs. He wanted me to become a hunter-gatherer? That was never going to happen. I’d rather take my chances with the Federovs. I started mentally calculating how long it would take for me to walk back to Prescott.

  “Relax, Sabrina. I’m kidding.”

  I closed my mouth and frowned as my heartbeat went back to normal. “You should have taken up a career in politics. I’ve never heard anyone deliver such a convincing straight-faced lie.”

  The fact that Beau had all but convinced me I’d be scrounging through the wilderness for my own food was quite the feat. In my job, I’d learned quickly to sniff out a bluff.

  “So really, what happens when all this stuff runs out?”

  “You are going to be on your own at times. I’ll have to get back to town for work but I’ll come up every other week or so and bring you groceries.”

  “Right.” An uneasy feeling rolled in my stomach. I knew Beau couldn’t hide out with me forever but the reality that I’d be alone here was unnerving.

  “Here,” he said, handing me my breakfast. “Eat that and stop worrying. You won’t be alone for long.”

  “Uh-huh.” One day alone would be too long. A couple of weeks? I’d be crawling out of my skin. What I really needed was the internet. If I could just find out whether the Federovs had been immobilized by the FBI, then this nightmare would end and I could go home.

  Beau left me to my granola bar while he disappeared into the bathroom with some cleaning supplies he’d unearthed from under the kitchen sink.

  When he was done, he offered me the shower but I opted to help clean first. We spent the afternoon working our way from one side of the outpost to the other. Though the space was small, it took a while to sweep and mop the dusty floors, wipe down the windows and sanitize the kitchen.

  But once it was clean, the place wasn’t all bad.

  While Beau stocked the refrigerator and freezer, I washed the pots, pans and dishes that had been collecting dust in the kitchen’s cabinets. While everything was drying, Beau and I started unloading the dry goods.

  “I don’t suppose there’s a washer-dryer hiding somewhere aro
und here?” I took the box of rice Beau was handing up to me from his crouched position by a plastic tub.

  He shook his head. “You’ll have to hand-wash your stuff. I can take laundry back and forth to town though.”

  “Okay. I’m gaining a new appreciation for modern appliances.”

  “That’s not a bad thing.” He tossed me a loaf of bread. “I like that about roughing it from time to time. Makes you glad to be home.”

  I missed home. “Once I get back to the city, I don’t know if I’ll ever leave again.”

  Holding out my hand while shuffling boxes in the cupboard, I waited for Beau’s next deposit but it never came. He was staring, unfocused, at a bag of pasta.

  “Beau?” I called.

  His eyes snapped to mine and he shook his head out of wherever his thoughts had gone. “Here.” He set the last few items on the counter and stood, disappearing outside with the now-empty tub.

  “Ooh-kaay.” What had that been all about?

  I went back to unpacking, organizing the cramped kitchen as best I could. Beau came back inside and dragged over another tub, setting its contents on the counter in silence. I decided to give him a bit more space and turned to leave the kitchen but my bad ankle gave out.

  Stumbling to the side, I braced for a hard collision with the floor but Beau rescued me first. He caught me around the waist and spun me so quickly I ended up cradled between his knees. My heaving chest pressed up against his. His soft beard just centimeters away from my forehead.

  Tipping up my chin, I looked into his eyes but didn’t make a move to leave his lap or strong arms. I just wanted to savor this fleeting moment for a few more seconds. Then I’d let him go and resign myself to putting some barriers up to block our magnetic connection.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  I shook my head but couldn’t break from his gaze. Those stormy ocean pools were as dangerous as the undertow.

  The intensity of his stare snapped and in one powerful movement, he picked us both up off the floor. When I was steady on my feet, he took a step away, running a hand over his beard and then raking it through his hair.

  “I’m just going to lay it out there,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

  Those words, ones that should have elicited a beaming smile, made me brace. His tone was dreadfully serious. The next statement was certain to ruin his pretty words.

  “We’re from two different worlds. Let’s not get wrapped up in this physical connection, or whatever this is, and do something stupid.”

  “Sure,” I said, swallowing my disappointment. “I agree.”

  He was right, obviously. Beau was the type of man who needed someone with much less baggage than I was carting around. Nothing could happen between us. A fling would certainly lead to disaster.

  But somehow, his rejection hurt worse than the kick Anton had landed in my side.

  Day seven.

  I’d started keeping a tally on a scrap of paper in the kitchen, otherwise, the days would have blurred together.

  Why? Because I was bored out of my damn mind.

  Every day was the same. Wake up. Take a shower. Do my very best to style my hair without a hair dryer, straightener or curling iron. Eat breakfast. Read. Eat lunch. Read. Eat dinner. Read. Sleep.

  Without the company of Felicity’s Kindle, I would have gone mad by day four.

  I had enjoyed the relaxed and sleepy pace at first. I’d lost myself in a few amazing romance novels and time had flown by, but then I’d started getting antsy. This girl was not made for sitting idle. My fingers were in a continuous state of twiddling, and every time I sat down, my legs started bouncing involuntarily.

  I missed my job. I missed my city. I missed my apartment.

  I missed my phone.

  The phantom pains from its amputation were no joke. I reached for it constantly. Social media had never really been my thing but I’d gotten in the habit of checking it periodically throughout the day. I had used it to keep tabs on my brothers’ lives in Florida. To see what rumors the gossip rags were spreading about my favorite celebrities. To stalk enemy reporters at competing newspapers.

  Now I was completely disconnected.

  No texting. No Google. No online shopping.

  Since my ankle had mostly healed, I’d resorted to pacing to pass the time.

  That’s what I was doing now. Pacing. Eight steps to one wall. Eight steps back. If I went from the bathroom to the front door, it took fifteen.

  And where was Beau, my so-called companion, during all these jittery steps?

  Avoiding me.

  He’d disappear first thing in the morning and come back right before dinner. Our evenings were spent mostly in silence. I’d read—or pretend to read while watching him from the corner of my eye—and he’d tinker around the outpost until he set up his bed on the floor and fell asleep.

  Ever since his declaration that he had no interest in exploring our chemistry, things between us had become miserably awkward. Whenever he was around, I was so focused on avoiding his personal space that I could barely carry on a normal conversation. Beau must have sensed my discomfort too because for the last few days he hadn’t even tried to make small talk.

  I had to break this silence.

  Maybe tonight I should clear the air. Tell him that I was attracted to him but had no desire for a romantic relationship. Tell him that all I wanted was the elusive male/female friendship. Surely by day fourteen, my attraction for him would fade and I’d be back to normal. Friendship would be easy then. Right?

  Right.

  “Hey.” Beau’s deep rumble startled me. I spun toward the front door, clutching my hands to my pounding heart. “Sorry.” He stepped inside. “Thought you heard me come up.”

  I shook my head. “I was thinking. What’s up?” I tucked my hands into the kangaroo pocket of my green hoodie to keep them still.

  “I just finished with a project. I was wondering if you wanted to come out and see what I’ve been working on.”

  “Uh, sure?”

  His eyebrows went up. “Is that a question or an answer?”

  “An answer? I mean, sure. I’ll go out,” I gulped, “there.”

  I’d spent these last seven days inside. I wasn’t a nature lover, and without Beau around, I hadn’t wanted to go exploring on my own. The only time I’d ventured out the door had been to take a bag of trash to the burn barrel. Afterward, Beau had told me to make sure I locked the lid up tight to avoid attracting raccoons or bears. That had terrified me so much that I’d made it my personal mission in life to avoid creating garbage.

  “Come on out when you’re ready. I’ll split a few more logs.”

  I nodded and went to dig out my tennis shoes. The sound of Beau’s ax cracking through wood echoed off the walls as I bent to tie my shoes, breathing through the tenderness in my still-sore ribs.

  “Ready,” I called, stepping outside and shielding my eyes as they adjusted to the bright afternoon light.

  He took one last powerful swing and I struggled to ignore the flutter in my belly. I fell in step beside him as we walked away from the road and outpost, his long strides slower than normal and mine doing double time to keep up.

  “So, are you done acting weird?” Beau asked.

  My chin fell and I gaped at him with huge eyes. “What?”

  “I asked if you were done acting weird.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the smirk on his face. How could he pin this all on me? He had been acting strangely too. Well, maybe his behavior had been more in reaction to mine. Whatever. This was the last topic I wanted to debate.

  “I’m not even going to acknowledge that remark.” I held my chin high and picked up my pace. His chuckle elicited an eye roll.

  We walked past a grouping of trees and into a long, wide clearing of lush, green grass. I tipped my chin up, the sunshine on my face incredible. My spirits instantly perked up. I needed to force myself to go outside more and boost my vitamin D levels.

  I fe
lt better now than I had all week.

  Dropping my chin, I looked around. The outpost was situated in a mountain valley. The meadow we were walking through was surrounded by evergreen hills that turned to blue mountains as they rose into the sky. About halfway up their steep slopes, the trees were still dusted with snow. Standing out in the open, I felt so small compared to their majesty.

  “This is beautiful.” The grass was the bright, neon green of spring and its clean smell was a welcome change from the woodsy aroma in the outpost. The air was still cool but not sharp. A breeze rustled through the evergreens, filling the air with a gentle whisper.

  “Believe it or not, this is an airstrip,” Beau said. “I’ve been working to clear trees that started growing too far into the meadow.” He pointed to a few big piles of fallen trees around the edges of the field.

  “Why is there an airstrip in the middle of nowhere?”

  “In case a small plane needs to do an emergency landing. There are a bunch of these little strips throughout the mountains. Usually they’re located by an outpost so there is shelter. Part of my job with the forest service is to make sure the fields are clear and the tree line doesn’t encroach too much.”

  “That sounds like a lot of work.”

  “I don’t do it all myself. I’ve got a crew that goes around to the larger places. A couple of the bigger outposts have full-time residents that live there year-round. But since this place has always been my favorite, I usually come up here and clean it up myself.”

  That didn’t surprise me at all. Though Beau hadn’t been overly chatty with me this week, he had seemed happy and content.

  “You really love it out here, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Why?” My question wasn’t judgmental, just curious. I had been plopped down in the middle of a different culture, a different world. Maybe if I understood what Beau found so appealing, the strange things here wouldn’t frighten me as much.

  “I guess it just suits me. It speaks to my soul. I’ve always felt at peace in the woods, and life just seems . . . simpler out here.”