Page 7 of Captured on Film
But his brother was eyeing him closely. “What’s got yourattled?”
Caleb dropped his gaze and kicked at the rutted road. “Maybeyou should ride in the trailer for the last leg. See howyouenjoy off-roadingwithout suspension.”
Josheb snorted and swung a leg over, scooting forward tomake room. Caleb settled in behind him. “No touching,” he gruffly ordered.
“Oh, you’ll want to hang on.”
“You know what I mean.”
With a brief look that was hard to read, Josheb started theengine, pointedly slapped his palms onto the handlebars, and didn’t let go.
Twenty minutes later, he shouted, “This is Quaking Creek.”
Caleb only grunted. But mentally, he plotted their positionon the map he’d memorized. They were two-thirds of the way there.
They crossed more streams and runnels that somehow meritednames. Slaughter Creek. Broken Bend. Shrill Creek. Clanless Spillover. Lost River.“Is it just me, or are all these names unnecessarily ominous.”
Josheb grinned. “What? Likestranger beware?”
“Shrill, broken, quaking, lost? Come on. They’re horriblenames.”
With a shrug, his brother changed the subject. “What do youwant for dinner?”
“Actual food. I refuse to eat grubs and roots and … andbitter herbs.”
“How ’bout a plate of shrimp. Maybe a side of mashedpotatoes? Some of that fancy-schmancy kale?”
Caleb grit his teeth. “It’s not the same!”
“It’s not that different. But you’re safe for today, brotherdear. I packed your favorite.”
That stumped him. “Which favorite would that be?”
“Guess.”
For the remaining few miles, Caleb made increasinglyimplausible guesses. The road ended in front of a small cabin tucked under a groveof cedars, almost as if the entire trail had been one long driveway.
“Twelve miles to the mailbox,” he remarked.
Josheb stood and scanned their surroundings. “Right.Everything inside, including Nessie.”
“It’s not as if I’d leave her out in the cold. Figurativelyspeaking.”
“Me, either. Too many bear tracks.”
Caleb glanced at the ground. The afternoon was getting on,but there was plenty of light to see by. Even so, he didn’t see tracks. “Areyou trying to scare me?”
Jumping to the ground, Josheb strolled along one side of thecabin, disappearing briefly behind it before circling around the far side. “Elk,deer, squirrel, mouse, and any number of birds. Bear’s the only one I’m worriedabout, for Nessie’s sake. Though a skunk or porcupine would be a nastysurprise.”
The cabin wasn’t locked.
One room. Four bunks built into the walls. A cast iron stoveand its pipe, both of which had been painted a smoky blue. Kindling in a crate.Canned goods on shelves over a sink that had an honest-to-goodness hand pump. Thecalendar on the wall beside the door was almost sixty years out of date.
“Seems about right,” Caleb muttered.
The windows were small and smeared with grit. Nothing hecouldn’t fix with some water and a paper towel. But otherwise, the place seemedstraightforward, snug, and so much better than a tent.
“This won’t be so bad,” he remarked.
