Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
BEAU
“I have a new reservation for the western cabin.” My mother’s voice was a bit distant sounding, but this was the best reception I could find to check in while I was at the hunting cabin.
“When?” I wasn’t exactly thrilled about a last-minute booking, but when your income relied on tourism, you didn’t argue.
It was still shitty timing, nonetheless. Especially since the timber thinning season was ending, and I still had a few miles of the land our family owned on the north side of the Appalachian Trail to cover.
Most of the other landowners in the area used lumber companies to thin their land, but I’d always enjoyed spending a few weeks in my grandfather’s hunting cabin during the fall to do my part to keep the forest healthy.
“Are you sure you want to do this alone?” she asked, going into her annual protective spiel. “What if something falls on you? Or there is an emergency? I just worry about you because I know cell service is spotty up there.”
Her points were valid, but I enjoyed doing it myself. And the guys from the lumber company came in every few days to clear out the larger sections of pine to mill, so it wasn’t like I was completely isolated.
After the summer tourism rush, I was exhausted, and when all the cabins had been booked—save for the one she now needed me to air out—it’d seemed like the perfect time to escape. Because once the rentals died down, I’d have to go into maintenance mode and prep all my properties for the start of the tourism season next spring.
“Mom, it’s fine. I’ll only be up here for a few weeks, and I promise I’ll try to get at least a text out to you every day. I’ve got my emergency beacon if I need it, but the weather is supposed to be nice. I just…”
“I know you needed a break, hun,” she responded, dancing around the subject we never talked about anymore.
When I’d started acquiring land around my tiny hometown of Timber Gap, North Carolina, it hadn’t been just me. But Mae was just another person who’d decided that small town life wasn’t for her and taken off. Not everyone was built like my mother and preferred solitude and isolation to a big, bustling city.
“I promise I’ll be careful. And Ashe is up here with me. I’ll be fine. He’s a good scout.”
“Your pet is a menace,” she laughed, but I couldn’t argue with her. He was a little shit. But he’d claimed me as his, so we were in it for the long haul.
“And he likes it that way.”
“I’m sure he does. Just make sure you keep in touch, so I don’t have to send your brothers up there to find you. Cause I know y’all think I’m this sweet southern belle, but I’ll bring you back from the dead just to kill your behind again if you get yourself hurt.”
“I’ll text every day, mama,” I sighed. “I promise. I’ll be back to town in no time.”
After she hung up, I twisted my neck from side to side to relieve the tension from swinging an axe all day. Deciding to walk through the brush to see if there were any sections I missed, I trudged along the edge of the famous trail to the East, studying the pine stands to my right and deciding if there was any more growth I needed to clear.
Midday quickly transformed into early evening, the chill of the early fall creeping in as the temperature dropped with the setting sun. Deciding I’d done enough for today, I whistled for my little friend and laughed as he came rolling through the fallen leaves on the edge of the trail, scampering along behind me.
I was honestly surprised he hadn’t been pestering me to return to the cabin earlier. Despite his small build, that little fucker was determined to eat me out of house and home. And don’t even get me started on the fact I had to lock up the peanut butter because my guy was a bit of a fiend.
The hum of the generator greeted us long before the small one-bedroom cabin came into view, and I was glad I’d spent the time and energy to refurbish this place. It’d been in the Dixon family for generations, each one adding on a little more or updating what had been done long ago.
That was the way of Appalachia. You valued traditions, family, and living with the land. We were blessed with our own little slice of heaven, and I was happy that we were just a touch too close to the national park for developers to pay us any notice. Our mountain town had stayed small, with just over eight thousand residents, but we’d kept up with the times, leveraging the lucrative tourism market to keep us prosperous.
My father’s side of the family had settled in the area in the mid 1850s, but my mother was a much newer addition. Her appearance in my father’s life had been unexpected, but they’d been inseparable from the day they met. But she still had lingering secrets she never shared, ones that ran deep and I knew wouldn’t stay hidden forever.
“Let’s go, asshole,” I grumbled, motioning to my furry friend, who was taking his sweet ass time with breakfast. I’d been ready to go for twenty minutes, but Ashe ran on no one’s schedule but his.
He leveled me with an unimpressed look when I whistled at him, and I flipped him off, which was met with a growly bark that had my eyes rolling.
“Fine, I’m leaving. I’ve got shit to do and those clouds don’t look too hot,” I replied, nodding toward the sky above the towering trees.
The forecast I’d managed to load on my phone said there were supposed to be scattered storms throughout the day, and the radar hadn’t looked too scary, but I wasn’t taking any chances this time of year. The temperature could swing wildly, and I hated hiking in wet, cold clothes.
Deciding he’d come find me when he was ready, I nudged his furry butt out of the doorway and hit the button to lock the door, listening to the electronic hum of the lock. My brothers had made fun of me for installing an electronic deadbolt on a hundred-year-old cabin in the middle of the woods, but between nosy bears and the odd lost hiker, I wasn’t taking any chances on unwanted visitors in my space.
There were too many people who had gone missing in this area to get lax with my safety, even if I knew this land like the back of my hand.
Stretching my arms above my head as I approached the small shed at the edge of the property, I winced when my back popped. Maybe Mom was right. Eventually, I’d need a company to do the annual timber thinning. At thirty-nine, I was feeling my age.
And according to my older brother, it was all downhill after 40. The dumbass had broken his hip last year, which landed him two months on crutches. Getting old was a bitch. At least, according to Beck.
Not wanting to waste time, I got to work, hoisting my axe over my shoulder and grasping the handle of the chainsaw case in the other to set off for another section I’d just started. I’d work until my batteries ran out and then head back for the day to charge them while the weather passed through.
By mid-afternoon, I was sweating, covered in grime and sawdust, and wondering if this weather front was just fucking with me. I’d briefly seen Ashe running through the woods, so I knew that little fucker was off annoying the local wildlife, but he hadn’t bothered me.
Guzzling some water, I braced my hand on my hip, my hearing protection only covering one ear as I listened to the breeze blowing through the trees.
That was what I liked so much about this area. It was quiet. Not that a small town was all that noisy, but here I could process my thoughts without people, namely my meddling family, crashing into my day unannounced.
I’d just flicked the safety switch on my saw, placing my earmuff back in place when I heard it.
The distinct sound of a blood-curdling scream coming from the trail off in the distance.
Someone was in trouble.
Dropping my saw back into its waterproof case, I grabbed my axe and took off running, watching the forest floor for tripping hazards as I headed toward the screams, hoping I wasn’t too late.