Page 10 of Squatch Out!
CHAPTER SEVEN
OLIVIA
T he 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, because of course he 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 here after dark, or in bad weather. And we check them regularly so everything is fresh.”
I reluctantly set down the blanket I was folding and walk over to the shelf.
It’s mostly canned goods with some crackers and instant noodles.
I consider grabbing a can of peaches, but then I catch sight of a box of granola bars.
The oats will hold off my hunger longer than peaches, so I reach inside and take a few bars.
Bending down, Owen pulls out a small basket tucked under the shelf with several bottles of water. My hands are shaking when I reach for the bottle he holds out to me.
“Do you want to take the blanket too?” he asks. “It’s still pretty chilly.”
I give the thick wool blanket a long look but then slowly shake my head. “Thank you, but once I get moving, I’ll be fine.” I know once we get farther down the mountain I’ll warm up, then I’ll end up having to carry it the rest of the way to my camp.
He grunts his agreement and then leads me out of the cave and down a narrow trail that a mountain goat would look twice at, but this giant of a man walks down without a care in the world.
I don’t remember it being this narrow and steep on the way up, so I carefully pick my way along behind him. Of course, last night, my mind was on the fact that I was draped over the shoulder of a mythical creature. A very aroused mythical creature.
“So, are you from around here?” Owen asks as he leads me down the side of the mountain.
“Um, no.” I carefully place one foot in front of the other along the narrow path while keeping an eye on my surroundings, in case the bigfoot decides to come back. “I’m from Virginia.”
“Virginia? That’s about as far from here as you can get. What brought you this far?”
I know he’s probably just making small talk, but part of me can’t help but wonder if he’s also fishing for information.
“I was born here. Well, actually in Vancouver, but we moved when I was a kid.”
Owen looks back at me over his shoulder. “So, you’re visiting family?”
Hmm, definitely fishing. “No. Just camping with friends.”
When I don’t elaborate, he turns back to watch where he’s going, and we lapse into a surprisingly comfortable silence. That is, until I decide to do some fishing of my own.
“So how long have you been a park ranger?” I ask.
“Oh, ever since I graduated high school.” He tosses me a smile over his shoulder.
“Did you always want to be a ranger? Or did you have other aspirations?”
We reach the end of the steepest part of the trail, and I’m thankful when it widens so I can walk beside him. “These mountains are in my blood.” Owen lifts his dark eyes to roam across the sky and over the treetops before resting on me. “I’ve never wanted to do anything else.”
A smile pulls at the corners of my lips. “I wish I felt that way about something.”
“Oh? And what do you do?”
My nose wrinkles. “I’m a recruiter for a big insurance company.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh pretty much sums it up.”
“If you hate it, why not find something else?”
“I don’t hate it,” I grumble. I don’t love it either, but… “I’m good at it, and the pay and benefits are too good to turn down.” I finish with a shrug.
I don’t have much of a life outside work.
Pretty much my only hobby is bigfoot. I don’t have a lot of friends because I’ve never really felt like I fit in anywhere.
Except, I feel like I could belong here.
Even after being abducted by the very creature I was hoping to see.
Something about the wide-open sky and crisp mountain air feels?—
Don’t say “like home.”
As much as I love it here, when my time is up, I’ll head back to Roanoke, and that will be it. I won’t have any other excuse to come back again.
Owen nods like he understands, but I know he doesn’t. How could he? He just said this is where he’s always wanted to be.
“I think it’s important to be happy, no matter where you’re at or what you do,” he glances at me and offers a small smile, “because when you’re happy, everything else falls into place.”
I think about that. Then I wonder—have I ever truly been happy?
Like, the soul-deep content kind of happy?
And suddenly I realize that’s how I’ve felt ever since arriving here.
Despite all the hiccups, like creepy Darren and being abducted by bigfoot, this place makes me truly happy.
Which makes me kind of sad, since I can’t stay.
I quickly push that thought away to ponder another day, and not on the side of a mountain with a stranger.
“You should write self-help books,” I say.
He chuckles. “I don’t know about that. Most people don’t care much for anything I have to say.”
“Well, maybe they should.”
“Maybe they should,” he agrees.