Page 15 of Squatch Out!
Olivia’s sweet scent follows me, and I pause to look back up the ridge where Owen is making short work of the steep angle. He just turned forty, which might be considered midlife for a human, but you’d never know watching him.
I twist my neck, letting out a loud crack that radiates down my back, before turning back to trudge down the ridge. He’s five years older than me, so why is it that suddenly I feel like I’m ready for retirement?
When I glance back up the ridge again, he’s disappeared.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I continue making my way back down the mountain.
CHAPTER SEVEN
OLIVIA
The cheerful sound of whistling drags me from my deep sleep. I try to burrow deeper into the warm comfort of my blankets, but the sound keeps growing louder as whoever is whistling comes closer. I start to recognize the tune.
Oh, it’s… it’s…wait.
Who whistles to “Iris” by The Goo Goo Dolls? Whistles are reserved for old-timey songs like “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain” or something.
I’m blinking away the sleepy fog when the whistling abruptly cuts off, and whoever is out there clears their throat. “Um, Olivia? Are you awake?” a man’s deep voice calls from the other side of the tarp.
Suddenly, the night before comes rushing back to me, and I’m wide awake. Bolting upright, I pull the blankets up to my chin with one hand and the knife out from under the pillow with the other. The cave is cold enough that my breath fogs the air, which means the fire must have burned itself out sometime during the night.
“Olivia?” the man calls out again.
“Yes?” my voice comes out high-pitched, and I clear my throat before dropping it back to a normal tone. “I mean, yes. I’m awake.”
“My name’s Owen, and I’m a ranger. I’m here to help you back to your campsite. May I come in?”
Relief rushes out of me along with my exhale. “Yes, thank you.”
The tarp flutters, and a hand pops through, holding an official-looking badge. “See? I’m not here to cause you any trouble, just to help,” he insists.
“It’s fine; you can come in.” I can’t keep back the soft laugh as I push the blankets aside, then think better of it and wrap a wool blanket around my shoulders when I’m hit with frigid mountain air. After swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I push them into my hiking boots to keep from freezing my toes on the cold ground.
The hand with the badge disappears, and then the tarp pulls back, just enough to let someone through. A very tall someone. Owen is broad as well as tall, and also lean enough to easily slip through the small space he made in the curtain. As soon as he’s through, he flashes a disarming grin at me.
“Hi there,” he says as he stands awkwardly by the cave entrance.
“Boy, am I relieved to see you!” I say with my whole heart, just before I notice he’s handsome too.Like,really handsome.His skin is a dark tan, and his face is angular with chiseled cheekbones and full lips. His dark hair is cut short and shot through with silver strands. Deep lines are carved around the corners of his eyes, suggesting that he smiles a lot. He’s wearing a thick red and black flannel jacket on top of a lighter-weight orange and green flannel shirt that clashes badly. As if he got dressed in a hurry or maybe he’s color blind. His long legs are wrapped in denim, and heavy work boots cover his feet.
“I’m Owen Ferrell. Like I said, I’m a ranger. Your friends were worried when you… ah… were carried off.”
He seems embarrassed, which means the guys must have told him exactly what it was that carried me off. I want to drop my face into my palms with secondhand embarrassment, becauseof coursehe wouldn’t believe a word of it.
“I’m sure they are. It was pretty… sudden,” I admit.
He gives me a stern side glance. “Are you hurt at all? Anything I need to know about? You have to be careful out here. The bears might look cute, but they are dangerous, especially the closer it gets to their hibernation.”
“Bears?” Clearly I’m not caffeinated enough to follow what he’s trying to say. But then it hits me, and I realize he’s suggesting a bear carried me into the mountains. “Oh, right.Bears. And I’m fine; it—”wasn’t a bear,“—it was dark, so…”
Owen turns, giving me a curious look. Like he knows I’m bullshitting him by going along with his story. “The mind can play tricks when it’s dark,” he mutters in response.
While I try to unpack his strange behavior, he looks around the small cave, and my heart does an embarrassed little flip when he glances down at the ground where the bigfoot shot his load. I covered it up. There can’t be any way he’d know… right?
“Do you need anything before we get going?” he asks, turning his attention back to me.
Pushing the blanket off my shoulders, I shiver at the rush of cold air that hits me as I start folding the bedding that I slept in. “Just let me tidy up, and then?—”
“There’s no need. I’ll send someone up to reset the camp, so it’ll be ready if it’s needed again.” His mouth quirks, trying to hide his smile when he sees my bigfoot hoodie, and then his dark brown eyes flit over to the shelves filled with snacks. “Help yourself to anything you want for the way back down. We keep these caves stocked for hikers who might get stuck out hereafter dark, or in bad weather. And we check them regularly so everything is fresh.”
