4. Juniper
CHAPTER 4
JUNIPER
It was dark by the time I pulled into the clearing. I’d skipped the drink Clara offered at the Rusty Elk—good thing, since navigating the winding mountain roads stone cold sober was hard enough. I supposed I’d get used to it if I planned on living up here for a while. And the more I explored the town and the surrounding area, the more I wanted to stay.
I hadn’t planned on stopping in at the Rusty Elk, but after a day driving around, visiting Whispering Falls and stopping at the Misty Mountain Lookout, the thought of coming back to the lodge and having to cook something wasn’t appealing. So, I’d ducked into the Rusty Elk and ordered a burger and fries to go.
Running into Griff had been a big surprise. I didn’t think he ever left the mountain, but there he was, taking up more than his fair share of space at the bar, his usual scowl in place. He hadn’t even waved back when I smiled. The man was built like a slab of granite and just as cold.
Good thing there were plenty of friendly faces in town so I wouldn’t have to rely on my grumpy neighbor for socializing. I got a kick out meeting Miss Lila at the adorable bookstore in town and planned on stopping by the Pine and Petal Café to try one of their lavender lattes next time I drove down the mountain.
I climbed out of the car and carried the bag holding my burger and fries with me. At least what was left of my fries. They’d smelled so good, I’d devoured more than half of them on my way back.
It was so dark I had to use my flashlight app to light the way to the front door. I should have left a light on, but I had no idea I’d be gone so long. Maybe I could look into installing some motion-detector lights. I had zero experience with getting things done around the house. My dad always hired those types of jobs out, but how hard could it be? If only I had WIFI. I’d have to download a few online how-to videos the next time I had internet access.
Appie chastised me for staying out so late as I entered the front door.
“Sorry. I know you’re hungry. Just give me a second.”
He tracked my every move as I opened his can of salmon pate and scraped it into a bowl. Then I sat down at the table and reached for the old leather journal I’d found stashed behind a few field guides last night. I’d read the first few pages, and was eager to dive in. Uncle Caleb had dated the entries, and I flipped to the last few entries—the ones he made right before he died.
November 3rd
Came across some unusual tracks. Might be a bobcat but more likely a large fox. Storm dropped 7” on us last night. Need to get the propane tanks refilled soon.
I flipped forward several pages and spotted Griff’s name in shaky writing.
December 24th
Griff stopped by and gave me one of his knives. The handle’s from that massive elk we took down together last year. I’m lucky to have him as a neighbor. Just wish he’d let go of all that damn guilt. We shared a steak dinner.
I swallowed the big bite of burger I’d just taken and wondered what kind of guilt Griff was holding onto. Clearly there was more to him than the gruff, growly, grumpy side I’d seen. There had to be if my uncle considered him a good friend. I turned a few more pages but there wasn’t anything more about Griff, just notes on the weather, the snowfall, and things he wanted to do around the lodge.
The last entry was dated January 11 th , three days before my dad got the call that his body had been found.
January 11th
Need to talk to the sheriff. This harassment is getting out of hand. I’ll never sell.
The last line was underlined three times, the pen digging so deep it nearly tore through the page. My stomach twisted. Had someone really been harassing him? And if they had—where were they now?
Suddenly, the silence in the cabin felt less peaceful and more like a warning. As much as I loved the lodge and the land surrounding it, it seemed difficult to believe someone would want to try harassing my uncle into selling.
An uneasiness settled over me, and I ended up tossing the rest of my dinner. My stomach was too upset to eat. With no television, no internet, and no cell service, I pulled out my laptop and uploaded the pictures I’d taken over the past few days.
Then I vowed that no matter how much I didn’t want to bother him, I’d head up to Griff’s cabin the next day to find out if he knew anything about what happened right before Caleb died.
The next morning, I baked up a loaf of banana bread figuring I’d use that as an excuse to stop by Griff’s place. After the way he’d ignored me at the Rusty Elk last night, I didn’t expect a warm welcome and thought maybe a fresh loaf of bread might help.
I wrapped it up in foil and pulled on my coat and boots. I’d meant to stop by the general store to see if I could find something more appropriate for traipsing around the mountain, but it was closed by the time I’d figured out a way to end my conversation with Miss Lila. That woman could talk the ears off an elephant.
Smiling, I made my way to the narrow road leading up the mountain. The sun peeked out from the clouds, and I glanced up, hoping it might melt some of the snow that had fallen over the past few days. The light glinted off a piece of metal. What the heck?
I moved closer and shaded my eyes to try to make out what I was looking at. It was a camera. Pointing right at the entrance of the drive to the lodge. How long had that been sitting there and why hadn’t I noticed it before?
With a new purpose in my step, I trekked up the road until it ended in a turnoff to the right. I hadn’t been up this far before, but it had to be the way to Griff’s since his was the only property beyond mine.
His cabin sat in the middle of a small clearing. Smoke drifted up from a chimney and several outbuildings clustered around the main cabin. A huge dog ambled over, its tail wagging. It looked a lot like a big, shaggy wolf, and I tightened my grip on the bread. If it got too close, I could toss the bread into the woods and try to make a run for it.
Thankfully, it didn’t join me on the porch when I stepped up to knock on the door. There was a light on inside, but the silence was absolute. His truck parked in front of the garage, so he had to be home. Maybe he was ignoring me again.
Then the sound of metal clanging on metal rang out from behind the cabin. Not sure what to expect, I rounded the building and caught a glimpse of Griff lifting a huge hammer over his head before bringing it done on a workbench.
“Hello?” I called out.
He looked up, surprise quickly turning into a frown.
I held the banana bread out in front of me like a peace offering. “Do you have a second?”
He lifted his arm and swiped it across his forehead. Even with the temperature hovering in the low forties, he was only wearing a tank top. His muscles bulged, and I sucked in a breath. Dirt or something dark smudged his forearms and biceps.
“What do you need?” He set the hammer down and grabbed a towel. “Did your fire go out?”
His assumption that I was incapable of starting my own fire rubbed me the wrong way. “No. I used the stove to bake some bread. Banana with chocolate chips. I wanted to thank you for your help the other night.”
His brows arched with interest, and he held out his hand. “Is it any good?”
Of all the nerve… I wanted to scream. Instead, I smiled, slow and sharp, the way my mother did right before handing someone their own ass at a fundraiser. “Try it and find out.”
He unwrapped the foil, broke off a corner of bread, and tossed it in his mouth. “Mmm. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I waited for him to invite me in or offer me a cup of coffee. Seemed like that’s what neighbors did when someone stopped by, especially with fresh baked goods. But Griff didn’t do any of that.
He set the bread down on his workbench and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Did you need something?”
Irritated and slightly rattled by the sight of so many muscles, I wet my lips and forged ahead. “I found my uncle’s journal the other night and wanted to ask you a few questions about it.”
“Like what?”
“Can we go inside for a few minutes?” My feet were frozen from walking through the snow, and I couldn’t feel the tips of my ears since I’d forgotten to grab my hat on the way out.
Griff let out a sigh. “Follow me.”
He led me up a set of stairs to the back door of the cabin. I paused to appreciate the amazing view from the deck before heading inside. His place wasn’t anything like I’d expected. It was smaller than the lodge, but warm and cozy inside.
“This is nice.” I kicked off my wet boots and left them by the door.
“Built it myself.” A look of satisfaction flashed across his face before his features settled back into his customary scowl.
I reminded myself I wasn’t there to hand out compliments. He’d already shown me he didn’t want to be the kind of neighbors who got together for barbecues and stopped by for conversation. “So, two things. First, do you know anything about someone pressuring my uncle to sell his property?”
Griff’s jaw slid from side to side. “He mentioned he’d received an offer, but said he turned it down.”
“That’s it?” The man was more difficult to read than my college roommate’s annotated Hemingway collection, but even that had been easier.
“What else do you want to know?”
“His notes said something about harassment. That was the last entry he made, and it was just a few days before we found out he’d died.” I paused, searching for even the slightest sign that Griff had a clue about what might have been going on. His flat expression gave away nothing. “Do you think something bad happened to him because he didn’t want to sell?”
“The sheriff ruled it an accident. That’s all I know.” He shrugged those broad shoulders, unafraid to look me straight in the eyes. If he knew more than he was letting on, there wasn’t any sign of it. “I need to get back to work. Was there anything else?”
If I hadn’t already sworn off men, the lack of warmth and concern from Griff would have done it. He might not want to be friends, but we had to be able to at least tolerate each other. Pissed and looking for an outlet to release my rage, I narrowed my eyes and planted my hands on my hips. “You don’t happen to know anything about a camera pointing at my driveway, do you?”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s just a precaution.”
So, he was responsible. “A precaution for what? You’re spying on me.”
“Negative. Just making sure nothing happens to you while you’re playing house up in the woods.”
Just when I thought he couldn’t say or do anything more offensive, he surprised me. “I’m not playing house. You don’t know anything about me. How dare you make assumptions.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked and his shoulders visibly tensed. “I know you’re not cut out for a life like this. You don’t have the right boots, the right coat. Hell, Juniper, you don’t even know how to start a fire in the damn stove. If it weren’t for me, you would have frozen to death your first night at the lodge.”
I opened my mouth to disagree, but the truth was, he was right. Shoving my feet back into my frozen boots, I glared up at him. “Not all of us were born with a fire starter in their hand. I might not have experience, but I’m a quick learner and I’m not afraid to ask for help when I need it.”
He rolled his eyes, and I about lost it.
“I hope you enjoy that bread because I won’t be bothering you again. There are plenty more people around here who can teach me what I need to know to survive up here. Some of them might actually enjoy it.” I stomped across his floor to the front door, pulled it open, and slammed it behind me. So much for being neighborly. The first thing I was going to do when I got back to the lodge was to find a ladder and pull that damn camera out of the tree.