13. Jagger
We doze for a while, a light satisfied sleep, until I hear the radio crackling in my office. Reluctantly I get out of bed, leaving Izzie tangled in the sheets.
Suzie’s on the line with an update. The storm has passed, and the slip on the Black Saddle Road has been cleared.
Which means there’s nothing to keep Izzie here. My ribs grow tight, and it’s hard to breathe. I didn’t want her here, but now I don’t want her to go.
“Is that going to be okay?”
Suzie’s speaking to me, and I’ve missed what she’s said.
“Sorry, repeat?”
“There are no calls from your area, but a lot of folks live alone…” The whine of a child interrupts the call, and Suzie breaks off for a moment to dish out comforting words.
She sounds tired, and it can’t have been an easy few days for her. Suzie’s dedicated to her work, and I imagine she’s spent the last three days at the control center fielding calls for people in need. She often brings George in to work, and they’ve probably both slept there for the duration of the storm.
“I’ll do the rounds,” I reassure her.
The toddler cries, and she gives a quick thanks before signing off.
“I’m coming with you.” Izzie’s leaning in the doorframe watching me. “In case anyone needs medical attention.”
She’s in my oversized t-shirt, and her hair is mussed up. The urge to march her back to bed is so strong I grip the side of my desk to stop myself.
But people on the mountain need us, and Izzie’s already checking her nursing bag.
We shrug on clothes, and Izzie pours us both a coffee to go. There’s no time to talk about what happened or about what’s happening between us.
Soon we’re bumping up the dirt track with Minty in the back seat.
The water course that runs adjacent to the road gushes with dirty stormwater. There’s evidence of small slips, and one part of the road is half washed clean away.
It’ll take some clearing up, and I’ll be busy helping over the coming weeks. This part of the mountain won’t be a priority as it’s less populated, but I’ll do what I can myself.
The first place we come to is Rhys and Indigo’s Cabin. As I pull into the yard, I’m met by a gaggle of mucky kids. With rain boots on, they splash in the large puddles that have formed in the yard.
Rhys comes out to greet me while Indigo scoops water out of the vegetable patch.
They survived the storm okay, as well as you can with four kids cooped up inside the cabin. Izzie pulls a bag of candy from her nursing bag, and the kids gather around as she hands them out.
Rhys offers to help us on our rounds to check on the neighbors, and we split the load. Me and Izzie head further up Lone Ridge while Rhys heads down.
The next stop is Judith’s place. She comes out surrounded by her three large dogs. The oldest is half blind and limps, but the bark is as fierce as ever, a bit like the old lady herself.
“Roof leaked,” she says when we ask if she’s okay. “Filled an entire bucket.”
The old woman wipes her hand over her eyes, and Izzie frowns at a blood stain on her arm.
“What happened?” Izzie asks.
Judith holds her arm to her chest. “It’s nothing. Got a scrape when I slid off the roof.”
“What were you doing on the roof?” I ask.
Judith looks at me defiantly, and her sharp eyes narrow.
“I was fixing the damned leak.”
She’s been living up the mountain alone for the last fifty years and is fiercely independent.
After much protest, Izzie finally convinces Judith to let her look at the scrape on her arm.
They go inside, and while Izzie’s tending to the injury I scale the ladder that’s still leaning against the side of the cabin and take a look at the roof.
There are some lose tiles, and the gutter’s blocked with leaves.
I clear out the gutter and make a mental note to come back tomorrow to fix the tiles. When I come down from the ladder, there’s the sound of cackling laughter and I follow it to the kitchen. Izzie and Judith are sat at the kitchen table with a steaming teapot wrapped in a knitted tea cozy between them. Judith’s arm is wrapped up in a clean white bandage, and they’re chatting and laughing like old friends.
They look up at me when I enter.
“Just like her mother, this one is.” Judith smiles fondly at Izzie, showing off her missing front teeth.
Izzie beams, obviously pleased at the comparison.
My heart warms seeing her like this. We make a good team, her smiling good nature making up for my broody one.
“I’ve cleared your gutters, Judith. And I’ll come back tomorrow and do the tiles. We need to check on the other families up the mountain.”
“I could have done my own gutters,” she says crankily.
“I know you could have,” I say quickly. “But I was bored out there with you two chit-chatting in here.”
She fixes me with a toothless smile and a quick raise of the eyebrows.
“Come back anytime you like, sweetheart.”
She winks at me, and I chuckle. The old girl likes to flirt.
Izzie packs up her bag, and we get back in the pickup where my fierce guard dog has been cowering the entire time.
We spend the rest of the day checking in on my neighbors. At the next cabin, Izzie sweeps water from a shed while I help pull a distressed goat from where it’s gotten stuck in a yard that became a muddy swamp.
Izzie fixes minor cuts and hands out lollypops to children. And I can’t keep my eyes off her.
She’s loved here on the mountain, spreading her sunshine to everyone she touches. Could she really want to spread that sunshine to me?
We drive back in silence as the sun sets, both exhausted from the long day. My body feels weary, and I long to curl up with Izzie by the fire.
I imagine what life would be like with Izzie by my side, bringing sunshine and laughter to my cabin, her belly round with my child.
Would she be happy here? With me and Minty and the mountain?
I’d have to extend the cabin and make the yard safe for our family.
My thoughts are jolted out of my head as we pull into my front yard. There’s a green SUV parked outside the cabin, and Izzie squeals when she sees it. She’s got the car door open before I even stop.
Landon steps out of the SUV, and Izzie runs straight into her father’s arms.
The fantasy of her in my cabin shatters around me.
She’s too young. She’s just a vulnerable girl who needs her dad more than she needs me. This morning was a woman in pain needing comfort, that’s all. She has no intention of staying up here with me. Why would she? She’s got her studies to finish and college life. Why would she want an old, grizzled mountain man like me?
Minty whines and jumps out of the car, and I run my hand over her head. She pushes her nose into my palm, and it’s a small comfort. I have my dog. It’s too much to think I could have the perfect woman too.