Stranded in the mountain.., p.6
Stranded in the Mountains, page 6
It was from the deepest chambers of his heart.
Chapter Six
Cassie yelled at the top of her lungs and waved her arms over her head, just like she’d seen on the survival videos. Until her brain registered that the form appearing from the depths of the woods and fog wasn’t a bear, or a mountain lion. Was it an elk or moose? Male or female? She cut off her voice, remembering the online videos she’d watched on extreme survival. A moose! Female.
Laughter rolled up from her belly and she clutched her arms around her middle, willing the nervous reaction away. Please, God, help me. She knew what she needed to do, but nothing was going to work if she wasn’t willing to rely on His help through it all. The moose stopped, turned its monstrous head toward her. This close the fog didn’t matter. Cassie made out one of the large eyes, their campfire reflected in its lower edges. The nostrils were as big as her hand and quivered. She stayed frozen in place, hoping the animal wasn’t going to prod her with its huge muzzle. She had no defense against the creature’s sheer size.
Odd, she’d thought she’d be totally freaked out if this ever happened to her. Or at least losing control of her bladder. Instead, a sense of calm purpose blanketed her, seeming to come from nowhere, not unlike how the fog had rolled across the lake and descended over them, making it feel as if this were the edge of the planet, a place out of time. A large splash reached through the moment and she understood what Daniel had done. The moose swung its head away from her, toward the sound, the seemingly slow movement deceptive. That head would knock her out cold with one swipe.
Cassie knew what she had to do and didn’t give herself time to think, any chance to allow her true terror to seep back in. As the moose took one, two steps toward the lake, Cassie flattened herself and slid down the side of the rock, toward where she’d come from. Toward Daniel.
When her feet hit the ground with a decided thump, she wanted to scream all over again. The noise would draw the attention of the moose and bring her toward them again. She leaned against the rock, her belly and arms flush with it, afraid to make a move as she fought to get her breath under control. Softer footsteps sounded to her left and she moved her head infinitesimally and peeked from under her arm. Running was the last thing to do with any wild animal, but she didn’t think she’d be able to stop herself if the moose was right here, on this side of the boulder. She tensed, ready to run around the rock, not caring that the creature could get around to her just as quickly.
But it wasn’t the female moose. It was a smaller animal, if being her height of five and a half feet tall at its shoulders was any kind of small. A moose calf. The youngster didn’t care one bit about Cassie, or the rock. It was on course to stay with its mother and walked by without incident.
Tears rushed down her cheeks, a release of relief, gratitude and triumph. She was still here, unhurt, and the moose had moved on. She turned to her right, eager to see Daniel’s smile, feel the validation that she’d not become a burden to him, but had been part of a team, their team. A partnership that had managed and distracted their first wildlife confrontation.
His back was to her, his form stark against the smudged-out effect of the firelight in fog as she headed toward him. Before she reached him, though, he turned and closed the gap between them.
“Get back! This way.” His arms were on her shoulders, spinning her around as he grabbed her hand and pulled her alongside him toward the woods. Fear hijacked her heartbeat and Cassie did the only thing she could: she ran with him.
* * *
The last thing Daniel wanted to do was frighten Cassie, or worse, hurt her. He all but dragged her back behind the rock, under a bush that grew up against its backside. There wasn’t time to explain. Thankfully, Cassie didn’t pick this moment to fight him or his decision-making. Or maybe she’d already figured out the same thing as he had.
Only once they were under the cover of the brush, the rock between them and the moose, did he feel secure enough to look at her. The fog made the gray twilight absolute, with only the faintest hint of illumination from the fire, on the other side of the rock. He sensed more than saw her concern, heard how she took gulping breaths, exhaling on shudders.
“You okay?” He kept his voice to a whisper.
“Yes. I thought we got rid of them.” She was panting but he suspected that was more from the scare than physical exertion. She’d scaled and then climbed down from the boulder as only a person in good physical shape would be able to.
“They’re here for the water. They must be really thirsty or the mother would have spent more time on you.”
“I was waiting for her head to knock me over with a single swipe. She’s huge.” Her whispers were full of awe.
“It’s hard to imagine their size until you meet them face-to-face. That was a little closer than I’m comfortable with.” It was easy to admit his vulnerability to Cassie. Natural. He’d never been able to totally let his guard down with another woman, always wanted to appear as if he had his life all together with no hiccups. Now it seemed no more than a silly blustering on his part, an attempt to be what he thought he should be. Maybe he should take a clue from Cassie and let God run his life all the time, not just when he experienced fear.
“You and me both.” He saw her roll her shoulders, turn her head one way, then the other. Keeping herself limber, ready to move when needed.
Silence surrounded them and the soft sounds of lapping reached around the outcropping to them.
“Is that them drinking?” Cassie’s profile was intent as she listened.
“Yeah, I think so.” He quickly ascertained that she had to be crouching in a squat, her back up against the rock. Her muscles would stiffen up in no time. “Here, you can move—slowly—in front of me and we can take a peek. I’m not certain we’ll see anything in the fog, but it’s worth a try.”
“Okay.” Cassie moved close to him and he did his best to hold back the twigs and branches of the overgrowth, keeping a clear path for her. His arms seemed to have a mind of their own; once she was right in front of him they lowered and his hands rested lightly on her shoulders, small but strong under his palms. And no use denying the invisible thread that was growing between them. He wasn’t making an inappropriate move, though, but wanted to let her know she wasn’t alone, that he had her back. He’d do whatever it took to reassure her.
“Are you really okay, Cassie? That was a scary scene.”
“I am. Thank you.” She angled toward him and he let his hands drop, not wanting to overstay his welcome. “The top of the rock would have been perfect protection from a bear, I think, at least until you could spray it. Or fire a flare. But the moose—”
“How did you know to stop screaming?”
“YouTube.” Her quick, honest admission humbled him. Would he have been as forthright in the same circumstance, or chalk his reaction up to extreme wilderness experience? He’d like to think his integrity would kick in, but his pride was good at driving his actions at times. Another example of how putting faith first would level his overblown ego. If only he’d figured this out before he’d failed at past relationship attempts!
You hadn’t met Cassie yet.
“YouTube taught you well. I’m sure glad you knew what to do.”
“You helped, Daniel. I would have been way more afraid if I didn’t know you were here.”
A warmth formed under his rib cage as Daniel realized he could stay like this all night, talking to Cassie, hearing her voice in the dark. Except, wildlife.
“We have to stay here until they leave. The mother is unpredictable.” He struggled to keep fear out of his voice. Not for him. When had he become such a protective man? When had being humble ever been a priority over making sure he impressed a woman?
Since you met a certain woman in front of the lousy coffee machine at the backwoods airport.
“Can we try to catch a peek of them? They certainly weren’t interested in me, thanks to you throwing that stone into the lake.”
“Here, I’m taller so I’ll stay behind you. Sit or kneel on the ground, whichever is more comfortable.”
A short laugh left her lips. In the sound he’d heard a million times from other people, he heard something new in Cassie’s. Joy. Hope. An enthusiasm for life. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable in any position again for a long time.”
“I hear you.” They were both feeling the aftershocks of their bodies hitting the lake during the crash. As Cassie sat on the ground, cross-legged, he sank to his seat, his knees bent to his chest. “It’s been a day.”
Another soft laugh, more happiness sprinkled across the night.
“We should probably stop talking. Moose have great hearing.” No matter how quiet they tried to be, nothing was going to pass by the animal, especially the mother. Daniel was grateful it was past calving and rutting season, and that all the cow seemed interested in was getting water for herself and her calf. Something tickled him in his chest, under his rib cage. Gratitude.
They watched in silence as the fog thinned enough to reveal the moose at the lake, lapping up water calmly yet voraciously. The mother lifted her head and sniffed the air several times between drinks, always alert for danger. Daniel never identified with a mother other than his own, but watching how the cow appeared to live for the sake of her calf more than anything, empathy struck him. Since the crash, no, before—since he’d met Cassie and found out they were headed to the same destination, he’d had the same sense of responsibility. That his job was to keep Cassie safe. He wasn’t a chauvinist and Cassie had proven she’d done her share of preparation for the journey here, more than most tourists, in fact. But she hadn’t revealed why she was here, not specifically. So she was either very private, didn’t trust him, or a combination of both. And yet this longing to do well by her came from deep inside him, with little concern as to her motives. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he fully trusted Cassie. He grunted. Maybe it was what it took to grow his faith and become the man a woman like Cassie needed in this moment. Could he meet the challenge?
Yeah, it was definitely time to start praying more.
* * *
Cassie had to wonder if her sudden fascination with the mother moose and her babe was heightened by all she’d been through today. All she and Daniel had survived. The appearance of the moose, so startlingly wild and part of this living and breathing landscape, had shocked her on a physical level, of course. There was never a time she remembered not being intrigued by nature and all things wild and wonderful. What surprised her was how raw and vulnerable it left her, as though she was connected to the very creature that could have done major injury to her or Daniel. She wanted to chalk her emotionality up to the uniqueness of the event. In all her life she’d never been so up close to an animal she’d only seen in photos. But Cassie couldn’t shake what her gut told her. This had been extra special because she’d shared it with this man.
The fact that Daniel, one fine specimen of nature—the human being category—was sitting so close to her as they both took in the precious sight before them had nothing to do with it. Did it? With Daniel at her side she felt safe, protected. Not that she wanted him to think he had to keep her safe, because he absolutely didn’t need to. Cassie was willing to listen to his direction when it came to hardcore survival tactics; he had far more experience than she did. But if he didn’t have that past experience, would she trust him just as much? Allow this connection to form between them? It was bigger than she was, more than anything she’d expected when she’d bought her coffee out of the vending machine this morning.
Cassie had been unable to define the exact characteristics she’d deem essential in the ideal date, boyfriend...or husband. Faith in God, kind, loving, and a sense of humor were definites. And now, so were strong, courageous and thoughtful. Just like Daniel. Nothing like a life-threatening situation to make her ideal man appear!
She’d definitely examine all of this later, when she was alone with her thoughts. When anxiety over getting attacked by a bear, moose or mountain lion wasn’t her constant companion.
Her stomach rolled and rumbled, and she covered it with her hands.
“I’m hungry, too. We’ll eat when they’re long gone.”
“They’re herbivores, right? So we’re not looking like a tasty snack.” She couldn’t help trying to make light of everything as the giggles threatened to overwhelm her. The tension of the day was proving too much. All Cassie wanted was to get into her sleeping bag—dry, thanks to the extra-large plastic bag she’d packed it in—zip it over her head and fall into the oblivion of sleep.
“No, but we sure don’t want to anger Mama. And I know he looks cute and little next to her, but he probably weighs three times what you do.”
The cow quickly raised her head, her ears flicking one way and then another. Cassie held her breath, hoping their chatter hadn’t annoyed her. The moose turned in a full, languid circle, nose sniffing, until she came back to the water’s edge and her calf. In a gesture familiar to all mammals, she gently nudged her offspring, who turned and followed his mother’s lead toward Daniel and Cassie. She stiffened, ready to scramble back behind the rock. Daniel’s hand on her forearm impressed the need to remain still. Cassie heard her heartbeat in her ears and knew the cow probably heard not only that but all of their conversation, including her stomach growling.
Yet for whatever reason, the moose didn’t appear to perceive Cassie and Daniel as a threat. She walked near the campfire, sniffing about as if expecting an extra patch of grass to munch on. Cassie couldn’t help but compare the animal’s maternal behavior with her mother’s, her grandmother’s. Tears welled as longing to be with them swamped her heart.
Meanwhile the mama moose, in a move also similar to a mother’s, gave a pragmatic snort, clearly unimpressed with the flames. The moose turned and slowly disappeared into the fog. Her calf followed, their steps sounding loud and large with the acoustic capabilities of the fog, providing a ground cloud that made sound travel more efficiently. It was all Cassie could do to not turn to Daniel and give him a hug in celebration for them making it through what could have been a catastrophe. At least one or both could have been badly injured, which, considering the predicament they were in, might mean certain death for both. If they couldn’t get out of here of their own volition, without a signal to ask for help, they weren’t going to make it.
That familiar friend from this morning came creeping back. Fear in all its ugly discomfort tightened around Cassie’s chest and she found it hard to breathe. Mixed with the exhaustion filling each and every inch of her, she knew she needed to do whatever it took to distract herself.
* * *
“Can we move now?” Cassie’s whisper was full of apprehension.
“Yes, I think we’re okay. What do you think?”
“I think that was the least curious pair of moose I’ve ever met.”
“When have you met moose before?” He stood and reached for her hand to help her up. The ground was slippery from the dampness of the fog. She accepted his aid, placing her hands in his as she straightened up.
“Thanks.” Her hands felt warm and small in his. “I’ve never seen moose before except online or in a documentary. That was incredible.” Her words implied enthusiasm, but her tone was flat, her face pale in the firelight. He stared into her eyes and only when she gave a little tug did he release her hands. His palms felt empty, chilled.
“No matter how unimpressed they were with our food, to me the MREs seem like a five-star gourmet restaurant fare. We need to eat. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” He hoped his voice sounded surer than he did. That it didn’t betray his worries. Not over walking out of the crash site, or even of establishing contact with Base Camp or an Inuit settlement, whichever proved closer. Nor was he overly concerned about more wildlife, including polar bears. All were concerns, for sure. But their biggest threat remained the elements, the mountain. There was zero room for a navigation mistake. He’d double-check his maps, be sure to put Sean’s rifle together before he went to sleep tonight. No matter how many times he mentally reviewed his action plan, he couldn’t shake the impression Cassie was making on him in such a short time.
She was causing fissures in his carefully constructed approach to life. Everything he did, she pushed him, made him rethink how he was doing things. The biggest example that gnawed at his conscience was with his prayers—basic, what he thought were good enough to get the job done. Cassie seemed to pray at the drop of a hat, as if it was something she did all the time, the way he remembered his grandmother had done.
When he’d lost her as a sixteen-year-old, only four years after his brother had been injured by a bear, a big part of him had shut down and he’d learned to do what it took to get by without letting the huge hole in his heart break wide open again. Grandma had taught him to pray and talked about God and the Bible when he stopped by her house on the way home from school each day, until high school. But when she’d passed he’d been unable to cope with his grief, instead burying the hurt. Until now, he’d forgotten that he used to pray with frequency all through the day.
Cassie was challenging each brick in the walls he’d built around his heart. His grandfather had survived his grandmother and often remarked that his broken heart had never completely mended. The scar tissue over Daniel’s broken adolescent heart was at once being torn off and melting away.
Why now, God?
“Are you going to have beef barbecue or meat loaf?” She’d returned to the fire and was reading off the labels of the two envelopes he’d dropped when he’d picked up the flare and bear spray.
