His eyes narrowed, forehead furrowed before he took fast strides across the bank of snow and leaned in close to my face.
His breath smelled like jerky and chewing tobacco. “Or else I leave you on the mountain to die.”
I backed away, forgetting I was on the edge of a rock, and fell backwards off of the edge. I landed in another giant drift, snow cradling me easily as I barely cracked the thick crust of ice that lay on top.
“I need to know why you’re helping me.”
“Why? You’d die up there if I didn’t. Is this your way of saying thank you?” He leaped down after me, agile despite his body’s wide breadth. He wore what looked like a real fur around his neck, something he’d caught or trapped out here, I had no doubt. Was it a wolf pelt? This man was a dominant predator on this mountain and I might be his next prey. Had Tav encountered him too?
I snuck out from under his massive form and struggled to my feet. I clambered for the ski poles, my only protection against him.
“What’s your name?”
“None of your business.”
“Who told you to bring me food?” I pressed, needing his answers.
“Don’t know.” He spun, heading off down the mountain again. I struggled to keep up, finding it easier to land each of my steps inside his larger ones.
“Do you live up here? Are there more of you?” I cringed with my last question.
“More of me?” He huffed, casting me a sideways glare before turning back. “You mean how many neighbors have you got up here?”
I nodded, hating the shrinking feeling he gave me.
“There are more.” He was off again, tracking away from me. “Mostly trappers, livin’ off grid but ask any of them for directions and they won’t let on none the wiser.Ifyou see them, that is. The men that live up here are only seen when they want to be.”
He was so at home here while I was so out of place, it rattled me. He rattled every nerve I had, and yet my entire existence relied on him the further we walked from the chalet.
“How many hours away?” I asked.
He laughed. “Hours? Guess this is your first time on the mountain then?”
I didn’t answer. When he didn’t continue, I finally mumbled that it was my first, and would be my last.
“We’re about forty-five minutes out from my cabin, if that’s where you’re going.”
I had nowhere else to go, and at least knowing I was less than an hour from the nearest...what?Neighbor?Did mountain men have neighbors? Could I rely on him to save my life if it came down to it? I was pretty sure at the current crossroads I had only myself to pull me out of this one.
“Will you tell me about the man that told you to bring me food?”
The mountain man paused his steps, squaring on me fully. “He was alive last I saw him.”
“When was that? The last time?”
He pushed a palm through his beard. “Few days after he paid me to share my rations with you I saw him on television. News stations replayed the footage of him walking out of the woods over and over, like he was some Goddamn hero. I couldn't understand it, it wasn't like he survived anything.”
“Wait, Tav was rescued? Was he on skis?”
“Sure was. Looked like he’d just slalomed down Everest. The look on their faces was like they’d just seen Jesus. Your husband must be an important man.”
Frustrated tears pricked my eyes. “Did he tell them about me?”
“Tell them about you?”
“He said he’d rescue me, have them send a helicopter—”
The man shook his head. “No helicopter can land up here. Not with the wind that whips around these peaks. Your best bet is the ice bridge up around the corner of the pass. But that’s only safe for snowmobiles, that’s why I traded him for that little car you drove up here. Hauled it down the mountain and gave it a jumpstart. Runs just fine, but that’s why I was surprised to see him on skis on the television. Where the hell is my snowmobile?”
