Page 12 of Mountain Boss

And if the cramped surroundings make her want to leave…

I turn my back on the window.

So be it.

Chapter 9

Courtney

I lower my shoulder,causing the strap to slide down my arm, before dropping my bag the rest of the way onto the floor.

“Cozy.” My eyes bounce around the space, which is as surprisingly clean as it is sparse.

The cabin is a rectangle, with the front door on the short end, closest to the main house.

To my right, lining the wall, are two washers and two dryers of the industrial type and revolution.

They’re all front loading, and a few inches above them is a plain white shelf boasting a jug of detergent and a half-empty box of dryer sheets.

Beyond the farthest appliance is a deep utility sink with a cabinet above it.

A sink and counter space… basically a full kitchen.

Or it will be when I get my toaster and electric kettle set up.

To my left… is a tiny round table with a single chair.

It looks antique.

And looks like the chair legs might jump ship if I sit on it.

Setting my light cardboard box on the table, I decide to consider the table and chair as decorative only.

I can sit on the bed when I want to relax. And I’ve become a pro at eating off my lap. So, not a big deal.

Before I venture farther into my cabin, I put my backpack on the floor and go back outside to fetch my suitcase.

Pretending my heart is beating wildly because of exertion and elevation and not because I’m worried about bears in the dark woods behind me, I shove my suitcase into the cabin and kick the door closed the second I’m inside.

I spent my formative years living in an RV with my mom, parked in various campgrounds in various states. So you’d think I wouldn’t be such a chickenshit. But apparently, it’s been too long since I’ve been around nature, because the idea of having to walk down one of these paths after dark is making me sweat.

Please, mountain gods, let that door beyond the sink lead to a bathroom.

I saw the two restroom buildings on my way up the driveway—one door stenciled withMen,the other withWomen. Another reminder of my campground days. Drafty showers and wet flip-flops.

The restrooms weren’t far from here, per se, but if I’m forced to find them in the dark, I’ll probably pee my pants before I get there.

I leave the suitcase and all my things where they are and move farther into the cabin.

Passing the sink, I step into the narrow hallway—though,hallwayis a stretch—that separates the front of the cabin from the back.

The mini hallway is just long enough for a door.

I hold my breath as I pull it open, then exhale in relief when I see the beautiful porcelain throne.

It’s just a powder room. With a toilet and the tiniest sink known to man. No shower. But I can shower in the public restroom when it’s daylight. That’s easy-peasy. Peeing in my own cabin? Straight luxury.

I lift my hand and press my pointer and middle finger to my lips, then press my fingers against the door.

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