Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 53516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
After chopping the wood, I traipsed around the mountain to check out all the cabins that existed for hikers who found themselves caught in bad weather to make sure there were no leaks and they had a safe place to hunker down for a few hours, if necessary.
Everything was fine, which meant I could head back to my own cabin for a quiet lunch. I shoved away the sound of Nate's voice as I dropped chunks of beef, potatoes, and carrots into a pot along with stewed tomatoes and herbs. Soup was the perfect food for the mountain. Full of healthy nutrients to keep me healthy and fit, and easy enough that I never starved.
Did it get boring sometimes? Sure it did, but what mattered more than excitement was that I ate regularly. I needed my strength to get through tough, physical days on the mountain, and after a difficult rescue, the last thing I wanted was to come home and slave away in the kitchen.
Soup with crackers or crusty bread was more than good enough for me, even if Nate didn't understand it.
A sound broke through the simmering pot of soup, and I froze, closing my eyes to hear the noise clearly. It sounded like someone was crying, and my shoulders fell at the realization that someone else was very likely trapped somewhere close, which meant lunch would have to wait. The sound went away for a minute, and I turned back to my stew, but then I heard it again.
Crying, but not just any crying. It wasn't someone calling for help; it was the sound of a baby crying. "What in the hell," I murmured to myself and wiped my hands on a kitchen towel as I made my way to the front door of the cabin. I yanked it open and looked left and then right in search of the sound, but I saw no one. The cry sounded again, and I looked down to find a chubby little baby girl with big gray eyes, rosy red cheeks, and wisps of blond hair.
She stopped her crying at the sight of me, tilting her head and eyeing me curiously.
"What are you doing here, sweet girl?"
Her legs and arms pushed out into tiny kicks and punches at the sound of my voice. It was getting cold out as the sun slowly sank behind the horizon, and I looked around in search of who might have left her on my doorstep, and why. The area around my cabin was empty as it always was, with no visible footsteps and no sounds to indicate someone else was—or had been—here recently.
"Let's get you inside," I whispered and took the baby and her carrier inside. She was small, less than a year old—I thought—but otherwise, I had no clue. I hadn't spent a lot of time with babies in my adult life, and I was completely out of my depth as the little girl showed off her impressive and loud lung capacity. "What do you need?"
My deep voice stopped her crying once again but only for a few seconds before she voiced her displeasure even louder and with more passion, as if to tell me I was doing it especially wrong.
I searched the carrier and her clothing, looking for anything to indicate who she might be or who she belonged to, and all I found was a small note that left me with more questions than answers.
I finally found you. It wasn't easy, but don't bother looking for me. It's too late for me, so please, just take care of our girl. ~J
I frowned at the note because I have no fucking clue who J is or what she meant by our girl. "Just stop crying. Please." I picked up the little, crying, chubby bundle of flesh and blankets and removed all three blankets to reveal a pale pink, leotard-type thing. "It's all right," I assured her and held her against my chest. Finally, she stopped crying, and the cabin was plunged into blessed peace once again.
The peace returned and it was so quiet, just the way I liked it, that I didn't realize hours had passed with the little girl pressed against my chest. She slept for hours at a time while I finished dinner, ate, and even dozed on the sofa. I woke up hours later, and it was after three in the morning. Her big gray eyes were wide open as she studied me.
"I can't hold you like this forever, you know that, right?"
She made baby noises as if she understood me, her tiny pink lips parting into a smile, or maybe I just imagined that.
"Seriously, little girl, I can't hold you forever." Even though she smelled like lavender and felt like a little fleshy cloud in my arms, I had things to do around here that couldn't be done with a baby in my arms. On top of my other duties, I had to figure out who this little girl was and who she belonged to, because I was sure they might want her back.