Page 13 of Curvy Girl and the Mountain Man Wolf
Chapter 5 - Lois
The descent is easier than the climb, though I still find myself breathing heavily, muscles burning in a way that reminds me how long it's been since I've done any real hiking. Kane moves ahead of us with that same unsettling grace, his massive frame somehow navigating the snowy trail without a single misstep or stumble.
I find myself staring at him: the breadth of his shoulders, the easy strength in his movements, the way he occasionally pauses to make sure Lily and I are keeping up.
"You're doing great," he tells Lily when she slips but catches herself.
"I'm super tough," Lily informs him seriously. "Mommy says I'm as tough as they come."
Kane's eyes flick to me, something like amusement warming their gray depths. "Your mom's right."
My cheeks heat despite the cold. There's something about the way he says it, like he's talking about both of us, not just Lily. Like he sees the strength it took to pack up our lives and leave, to drive into an unknown future with nothing but hope and determination.
The forest around us is pristine, untouched except for our own tracks from earlier. Occasionally, a clump of snow falls from a branch with a soft thump, or a bird calls from somewhere unseen. It's peaceful in a way I've never experienced before. Not the manufactured quiet of a spa or meditation retreat, but a living, breathing stillness.
"Look, Mommy!" Lily suddenly points to a set of tracks crossing our path. "Animal footprints!"
Kane pauses, glancing at the tracks. "Rabbit," he says. "Probably looking for food."
"How do you know?" Lily asks, peering at the prints with fascination.
"The shape," Kane explains, kneeling down beside the tracks. Lily immediately joins him. "See how they're grouped in sets of four? The front two are smaller, the back two larger and longer. That's how rabbits move."
"Can you tell what other animals are around just from their footprints?" Lily asks.
Kane nods. "Tracks tell stories if you know how to read them. Where an animal is going, what it's doing, sometimes even how it's feeling."
"Like if it's scared or hungry?"
"Exactly."
I watch them, this giant of a man and my small daughter, their heads bent together over tracks in the snow. There's a natural ease to their interaction that surprises me. Kane seems more comfortable with Lily than with me, perhaps because children are simpler, more direct. They don't carry the baggage adults do.
"What about the wolf?" Lily asks, and I tense slightly. "Can you show me its tracks?"
Kane's eyes meet mine over Lily's head, something unreadable in their depths. "Not today," he says after a moment. "We should get back to the cabin before dark."
Lily sighs but accepts this answer, standing up and brushing snow from her mittens. "Maybe tomorrow?"
"We'll see," Kane says, rising to his full height again. "Come on, we're almost there."
The cabin comes into view just as the sun begins its descent toward the western mountains, painting the snow in shades of gold and pink. Smoke rises from the chimney. Kane built up the fire before we left to keep the cabin warm, and the sight of it fills me with an unexpected sense of comfort. It's not my home, not by any stretch, but after our ordeal in the blizzard, it represents safety and shelter.
"I'll check the generator before it gets dark," Kane says as we stomp the snow from our boots on the porch. "Make yourselves comfortable."
Inside, the cabin is wonderfully warm after the sharp cold outside. Lily immediately begins peeling off layers, chattering about the hike, the view, the rabbit tracks. I help her, then remove my own outer gear, hanging everything by the fire to dry.
"Can I read another book?" Lily asks, already eyeing the shelves beside the fireplace.
"Sure, but remember to ask permission before taking anything," I remind her.
She nods and makes a beeline for the shelves, examining the titles with the concentration of a child who is just learning to read independently. I take the opportunity to look around the cabin more than I did last night.
The furniture, a mix of pieces that look handcrafted and others that must have been brought in from outside, is arranged for practicality rather than aesthetics, but the effect is pleasing nonetheless.
Bookshelves line one wall, filled with volumes on subjects ranging from wilderness survival to classical literature. A small desk sits in the corner, papers neatly stacked, a laptop closed beside them.
So, he does have some technology, despite the remote location. I wonder how he powers it, if the generator is just for backup or if the cabin is off the grid entirely.
