Chapter 3
Spade
“Water, please.”
The woman whose head is on my chest bolts up like she’s been struck by lightening. Dang, she felt good pressed against my side, head on my uninjured shoulder. But the call of nature and thirst were too strong to be ignored.
“Oh shit.”
“No, but I do need to pee.”
She rolls off the opposite side and gets to me as I throw back the blanket and sit on the edge of the mattress. My head spins and floats like a bobber on a lake. I close my eyes.
“Let me help. You’re probably woozy.”
“Yeah.”
She’s a few inches shorter than me and lithe, but sturdy. If nothing else, her nearness is comforting. At the bathroom door, I politely hold her back. “I can take it from here. But will let you know when I need to make the two-mile trip back to the bed.”
She snorts. The woman has attitude and strength. My heart lurches for some odd reason as I close the door behind me.
I’ve got one hell of a headache, and my pupils are a little large, but I’ve had worse.
As long as nothing gets infected, I should be fine in a few days.
She’s left a washcloth and towel on the counter.
After splashing my face, I use the washcloth to clean up.
I study myself in the mirror, feeling better.
I’m pretty sure I’m gonna live. I just have to get past the jackhammer in my head.
When I’m finished, she meets me at the door. “I found a clean T-shirt, briefs and socks in your pack. I’ve got lounge pants that are Mom’s boyfriend’s that will be too short and a little big around your waist. They’ll be more comfortable for sleep. I washed your other clothes, but they aren’t dry.”
She waits outside the door while I change. “Back to bed or you want to sit and try to eat something?”
“Sit and food.”
The cabin is one room. The bathroom has been built out to one side of the large fireplace.
An extensive book collection covers the wall from floor to ceiling on the other side.
A small couch and two chairs are in front of the fireplace.
The bed juts out from the far wall. The kitchen is right by the cabin entrance.
She leaves me in a chair at the table, grabs a blanket and places it around my shoulders. Crossing the few feet to the kitchen area, she grabs a plate.
“Do you have coffee?” I ask
“Yes, but the book says no caffeine for a couple days. I can make you herbal tea.”
“The book?”
“Mom’s medical book. It’s an almanac of some kind. Cover fell off years ago. It’s got good survival information. She used it to raise me out here. It will be fine for you until I can get you to town.”
I smile. She sounds like Gramps. “You grow up in this cabin?”
“Was born here. Midwife was all Mom could afford. Been here ever since.”
“Your father?”
She turns from the counter bringing me a steaming mug and a couple of biscuits on a plate with a scoop of butter and jelly. “Ain’t one. He gave her a baby, this cabin, and a few acres so she’d leave him alone. He didn’t want to see her again or know about me.”
“Your mom still live here? I don’t want to put her out.”
“No. She got sick a year and a half ago and lives in town now above our shop. She has a boyfriend who watches over her and helps.”
“In Kennedy?” She nods. “What kind of shop? I wonder if I saw it while I was in town.”
“Mud & Twine. Down from Mugg’s Up and the dress boutique. She sells her pottery, and I have yarns and different products I knit or weave.”
I remember thinking the sweaters in the window were beautiful and my Gramps would have loved one.
“I’m sorry, you saved my life and I don’t even know your name. I’m Bishop Spade.”
“I’m Fawn.”
I wonder at the lack of a last name but don’t push.
The warm beverage is flowery yet sweet. She must have used honey. The biscuits are good sized, fluffy and moist on the inside with just the right crust on the outside. I scarf both down before I realize what I’ve done.
“This was delicious. Thank you.”
“There’s more, but the book says to see if that settles first.”
She’s obviously been studying up. “You live here by yourself?”
Tipping her chair onto the back legs, she gives me a thoughtful stare over her own mug.
“Naw, there’s Ram who’s a little laid back and Billy who’s a bit more protective.
Marble’s always close and watchful. But Brownie’s the one you need to win over.
She’d rip your throat out if you get on her bad side. ”
There’s a scratching at the door. She stands, letting in two dogs the size of bear cubs. The one with blended shades of blonde, brown, grey and black I remember. The other is chocolate and black.
“Marble?” I question, remembering the dog and her calling out for Marble.
“Yep, the one that looks like dark and milk chocolate is Brownie. Great Pyrenees,” She explains. “Marble and Brownie.”
“So, Brownie is the dangerous one?”
“They’re both dangerous. They can hold their own with cougars and wolves. Most of which stay away from my land because of them.”
“You had a goat on the ATV. So, Billy must be a goat. Ram your male sheep?”
“You know your farm animals. Trust me, all my animals are very protective of the food supplier. Watch out for the chickens, they’d peck you to death.”
I chuckle. “I grew up in Chicago, but Gramps lived in the country. Had neighbors who farmed and had animals. Mucking stalls was fun when I was a kid. I hated the chickens and how they pecked. Got over it as I got older.
“Living alone on a mountain takes courage,” he adds.
“For a woman?” She raises an eyebrow.
“For anyone.”
“Weren’t you trekking alone? That can be dangerous, too.”
“Yeah but…” Okay, I just stepped in it… I can feel the heat raising up my cheeks. “That came out more sexist than I meant. Obviously, you’re capable and… it’s just…”
“It’s just that you’re trained to protect. And assessing danger is part of your training. What did you do in the army?”
“Spotter for our snipers.”
“How long were you in?”
“Twelve years. I’d planned on a career, but things… It didn’t work out. I transitioned to reserves.”
“Injury?”
“Tried to save my marriage.”
“From what?”
“I was deployed a lot. My ex would get bored while I was gone. She liked my paycheck, but I guess not my distance. Or maybe she liked that too much.
“Did she know you were you in the army when you married?”
“Yes.”
“Then she knew the score, no excuse. What happened?” she asks.
“She hooked up with some guy and while I was gone had his baby. She said she wanted us to work out, but I found out she was still seeing the other guy on the side. She gave me the divorce. I gave her the house.
“I have a friend from my military days who lives not far from you.”
“Jaxon?”
“Yes. We kept in touch. He invited me to come for a visit. I’ve been staying in one of his buildings in Kennedy.
I applied for a deputy position. It looks good for me to get it, but the sheriff said it would be a week or so before we’d know.
I decided to do some trekking to familiarize myself with the area.
“It was my second day out when I saw some guys offloading stuff from a boat. They looked suspicious. I took some photos and was heading out when they drove my way on their ATV and saw me. I remember the gun shot.”
“Two guys in flannel coats? You got pictures of them?”
“Yes.
“That’s great. The sheriff can use those as proof.”
“You said you’ve seen them before. Do they know you live here?”
“Maybe, but probably not. They don’t wander around.”
“Fawn, we need to let the sheriff know asap. If they’re smuggling drugs. If they heard or saw you helping me, they could come for you.”
She shakes her head. “Storm’s too bad. No reception. Not even my satellite phone. I heard the men talking. They saw you laying on that ledge and thought you were too hurt to survive. I had Marble scare them off by howling.”
If her satellite phone isn’t working mine probably won’t either. I’d let Jax know where I was and the direction I was headed that morning.
“When the guys on the ATV don’t find my body, they’ll come looking.”
She shrugs. “They aren’t too wilderness savvy. They may not bother to look.”
“They were headed up the mountain. Do you have an idea where they were headed?”
“There’s an abandoned gold mine about three miles northeast of here.
The sheriff inspected it and there were signs of recent activity.
Like someone is storing things there then moving them out.
You said you thought you saw drugs. Could be they store them at the mine then move it in batches. That would make sense.
“I started hearing the ATV randomly last spring. But I come and go a lot during summer, getting more supplies, helping Mom in the shop, and they could have been here more than I thought. Now that winter is settling in, I stay put. With all my animals, I can’t get stuck in town.
I thought I heard them about three weeks ago but couldn’t find them. ”
“Do you think they left the mountain?”
“They were headed toward the mine.” She looks into her cup before meeting my gaze. “Like I said, they aren’t too savvy. They probably didn’t realize how the storm was trending and got snowed in at the mine. Good luck if they tried to make it down the mountain in the snow.”
“What if they show up here?”
“I’ll deal with them. I’ve lived here my whole life.
Survived twenty-four winters and more wildlife than I care to mention.
Nature has a way of working things out. I feel safer here than I do in town.
If they show up, I know what to do. When we get reception, I’ll call the sheriff and let him know what happened and that we saw them. ”
There is something damn sexy about her confidence and the fact she’s wearing conceal and carry cargo pants. I’m pretty sure there’s a knife in her seam pocket and a weapon at her back waist.
“How’s your head,” she changes the subject.
“I’m feeling it, but I’ve had worse. Still a little hungry.”
“Theres more biscuits. I’ll get you another plate with some cheese, too.”
I’m half way through the plate she fixed me before glancing up. “How about you? You always live here?”
She studies her mug. “I tried doing the town thing. Well, I went to high school in town. Mom home schooled me until I was fourteen. Then she said I needed more than she could give me.
“I didn’t fit in. I didn’t understand their immaturity, the way they talked.
Saying one thing and meaning something else.
Mom insisted I needed a diploma, so I stuck it out.
I like learning stuff and going to town to see different things.
But… I’m plain. I do things simple.” She nods at my plate.
“Like the biscuits. Homemade taste so much better than those tube things. I like my animals and the sounds of the mountain. Life here is simple, honest. You don’t have to worry about people lying to you. ”
Hurting you, is the part she leaves off. But I see it in her eyes.