Chapter 28

Lance was glad to find Brooklyn sleeping peacefully when he entered the cabin. She had one arm flung over her eyes and the other clutched her purse. He felt a small tug on his heart at the sight. It did not escape his attention that she had done something with her hair, which he took for a good sign.

He had gone out to take care of the animals. Gilbert had wanted out in the worst way, but Lance was unwilling to chance it, even though he had killed the cat. “Sorry, girl,” he had told her as she gave him one of her Gilbert hugs. “Just hang loose a little longer and things will get back to normal.” Then, he had ranged further from home, checking his traps before returning.

Brook stirred from her slumber and he turned to meet her gaze. She said nothing, but watched him from one good eye and one that was starting to open. She covered her purse with the blanket, tucked it around the edges, and then reached up and touched her hair self-consciously.

Shrugging out of his coat and hanging it on a peg, Lance noticed the socks in the corner. He picked them up and felt their wet condition. Shaking his head, he laid them on the hearth in front of the fire to dry out.

“Decided to go for a little stroll, did we?” he asked Brook while suppressing a grin.

Brook froze.

“I’m starting to get the idea you don’t enjoy my company.” He glanced over at Brook and his smile fell when she burst into unexpected tears.

“I have to get out of here,” she wailed. “And I can’t. I don’t know where I am and I don’t know what to do. I need to let everyone know I’m alive. I tried to leave, but I couldn’t. And you were gone so long! And I didn’t know where you went.” Now, why did I say that? She slapped her hands over her sore mouth and flinched.

In three long steps, Lance was at her side, wanting only to comfort her.

“Don’t touch me.” She inched back in the bed, still crying softly. He stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he walked over to the table, putting some distance between them. “I was only teasing about you not enjoying my company. It was a stupid thing to say. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Brook grew calmer and her tears subsided.

In a steady voice, Lance explained, “I know it might seem like I’m keeping you here against your will. And, I know I’ve left you alone some. But, as you probably saw when you went outside, you can’t leave. And, I have chores to do, eggs to gather, animals to feed.” He paused, letting some of this sink in. “But mainly, I had to get the cougar that killed Belinda.”

“Belinda?”

“One of my goats. Do you remember when you saw me in the clearing that first day?” He waited while Brook sorted out the memory. “Well, I had just found her remains. That's one of reasons I had to be gone. I had to find that lion before it got Gilbert, or even the wild goats, as far as that goes.”

“It was a goat you were holding?” Brook asked, stunned. “A goat?”

“Right,” Lance replied. “Why? What did you think it was?”

“Oh, lord,” Brook pressed her hands to her cheeks and stared at Lance as relief washed over her. “I thought it was a person. I thought you had just killed someone. I've been so afraid of you!”

“A person?” Lance absorbed this information and thought back over their short time together. “Well, that explains a lot. I just figured you were scared because of, well, you know…all you’ve been through. I know you’ve been…” He paused to find an innocuous word, a word that wouldn’t, in itself, carry too harsh a blow. He finally settled on one. “Mistreated.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Brook’s throat tightened as tears threatened once more.

Maybe not now, he thought, but someday you will. When you’re ready.

“If you ever do, I’m a good listener,” he said. She ducked her head, looking down at her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Well, I really blew that, Lance scolded himself privately. He felt inept, having no idea how to handle a woman who had been brutalized. He was probably saying and doing all the wrong things.

“I feel dirty.” Brook finally mumbled.

“Dirty?” Lance was surprised at first, and then simply nodded. “That’s probably a normal reaction. I don’t know; I’ve never been through what you have, or for that matter, known anyone who has. But I know it must’ve been awful for you.”

 “Please.” Brook looked up at him, eyes full of misery. “Can we change the subject?”

“Sure.” He took a deep breath, walked to the window, and opened the shutters wide, brightening the room. The pane was framed in delicate patterns of frost. Touching the cold glass with a finger, he stalled to allow her time to compose herself. He had questions, lots of them. He would like to know who hurt her and how she ended up on his mountain. But he wouldn't press her right now. He moved the conversation back to Belinda, a less volatile subject, or so he thought. Turning to face Brook, he put his hands in his pockets.

“Although I hated to do it, one of the things I had to take care of was to retrieve Belinda’s carcass. The meat will help increase my larder. With two of us here now, I’ll be hard pressed to have enough food for the winter. The meat I got from Belinda will really help.”

“Do you have to call her by name?” Brook shivered. “It makes me feel strange, like you plan on eating a friend or something. It's….disturbing. I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.”

“Okay,” he said patiently, puzzled by her reaction. “But, she was livestock, you know.” Maybe I’ve been on my own for so long, I’ve forgotten how people relate.

“I know. It’s hard to explain,” Brook murmured. “It just bothers me. It probably wouldn’t seem so bad if her name had been Goat 1, or Goat 2.” She smiled a feeble smile.

Lance contemplated Brook. “Well, thank god it wasn’t Goat 1,” he said, giving Brook a sly wink. "It would have broken my heart in a million pieces. Gilbert’s become so much of a pet, she’s almost family. Belinda, on the other hand, was crotchety and odd. I never did get attached to her. I’d be weeping like a small child if it had been Gilbert. I love that damn goat so much!”

“Gilbert is a girl?”

“Yes, she’s a doe,” Lance said with a smile. “But she looks so much like this guy I knew in high school, I had to name her after him. He had very unique teeth, large and white.”

Brook didn’t return the smile like Lance expected. He thought he must be losing his touch.

“So, you got the cougar?” Brook changed the subject.

“Yes. I didn’t know if she’d come back to her kill, since I left my scent all over the place. But, she did come back. And I got her. A lion in heat has the most haunting scream. It’ll make your hair stand on end.”

“Really? I didn’t know that. I think I may have heard that scream,” Brook said slowly. “While I was lost. But, I thought it was something else.”

“Like maybe a woman?” Lance asked with a good-natured smirk, thinking about how she had thought he was holding a woman.

“I thought they killed Gina,” Brook murmured.

“Gina? Is there someone else out there I should be looking for?” Lance’s demeanor turned serious and he started toward his coat.

“What? No, no! Gina was one of their girlfriends. I don’t want to talk about it.” After a small silence, she asked. “What did you do with her, the lion?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Lance threw her a cautious look, thankful he didn’t need to traipse around through deep snow looking for another lost person.

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry for being so touchy about the goat.” Brook slipped her legs over the side of the bed and leaned forward. “Really, I won’t be bothered to hear a vicious predator was taken down. I hate predators. Hate them.”

“Okay. I shot her and left the carcass for scavengers. Normally, I’d try to save the coat, but I decided not to take the time.”

Brook stared at Lance as if seeing him for the first time, the look of fear momentarily gone from her face. “You have an interesting life.”

“Yes, I do.” Lance acknowledged, glad to see her looking less sorrowful. “And getting more interesting by the day.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and Brook gave a small smile in return. “Now, I bet you could use a visit to the bathroom and then we can rustle up some supper. I don’t know about you, but I’m so hungry I could eat a moose.”

“Please tell me you don’t have a pet moose named Lori Ann,” Brook laughed softly.

“Hmm, now that’s an idea. I’ll have to think on how to tame a moose.” He smiled, lifted her from the bed and carried her toward the bathroom. Noticing Brook wince from discomfort reminded him of his medication supply. “I should mention something probably; I only have one tranquilizer left. If you need it, I can maybe cut it in half. When it’s gone, that’s all there is. Then we’re down to just pain pills and aspirin. I saved some pain pills from the time I had a bad tooth. They’re a few years old, so I can’t vouch for their effectiveness. So, what will it be? Do you want the rest of the tranquilizer?”

“I don’t think I need another one right now,” Brook answered.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” His face was close to hers.

“I still hurt a lot,” she admitted, looking away. “But, I want to try and get by without the drugs."

“Okay,” he said. “But let me know anytime the pain gets to be too much for you. You can always take more aspirin, if you want something a little lighter.”

“Lance,” she said and then hesitated. They were just outside the bathroom door, her arms draped over his shoulders. Mingled with her discomfort at his nearness was a deep sense of gratitude. She struggled for words. He waited patiently for her to speak. “Thank you. For everything. I think you saved my life.”

“It’s okay.” He was humble, maybe even a little shy, as they entered the small bathroom. “Well, here you go,” he said. “Do you want to try and stand?”

“Yes. I can take it from here, I think.”

He lowered her carefully to her feet, watched her grimace as they made contact with the floor, and reached out to steady her. She waved him away and he stepped from the room, closing the door behind him.

 When she was returned to the bed, Lance tried to engage her in conversation as he worked in the kitchen. Her replies were unenthusiastic, and he soon gave up. During the meal, however, she laid her fork aside and cleared her throat, ready to speak.

"There are things I should tell you. I know that," she said, voice low. "I'm sure you want to know what happened. But, I just can't go into all that. Not yet."

"There's no hurry." Lance took another bite, chewed slowly. He followed that with a drink. "No hurry at all."

A look of relief passed over her bruised face and they finished eating in relative silence.

After supper, Lance walked to a high shelf in the corner, and turned on a radio. “I only listen once in a while. I don’t like to waste the batteries,” he explained. “Plus, reception up here is tricky. I can’t move the radio even a fraction of an inch from this very spot or I lose the station.” He left the volume low and soft acoustic sounds filled the room. Together with the cold winds whispering outside and the warm hiss and sputter of the fire inside, the little cabin assumed a safe, homey feel. “I like this folk station,” Lance continued. “They play a lot of songs that never make it into the mainstream. I enjoy hearing music I’ve never heard before.”

Brook drifted as the soft strums and sweet mountain voices soothed her hurts and sorrows. She leaned back against the pillows and let relaxation steal over her.

The meal, a savory casserole of some kind, had been served with flaky biscuits slathered in butter, and roasted sweet potatoes. Either Lance was the most talented cook in the known world, or her days of deprivation had sharpened her senses. Every meal he fed her was tastier than the last. With a full stomach, a warm soft bed, and the cozy sounds in the background, Brook felt almost contented in spite of her injuries and fears. When memories of the horrors tried to pop into her mind, she forcefully shut the door on them.

Lance sat in the rocker and worked at some small project, holding it now and again under the lantern for closer scrutiny. They did not talk, but there was no awkwardness. They listened companionably to the wind, the fire, and the music. Brook’s eyes grew heavy and she slept, unaware when Lance blew out the lanterns, shut off the radio, and turned in for the night.