CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

The noise from the helicopter’s rotors made conversation impossible, so Archie just sat beside Cait and tried to relax. Maybe he looked nervous, because at one point early in their trip, she’d reached over and taken his hand. He’d squeezed it in return, and hadn’t let go.

Since her brilliant idea yesterday, it had taken more than twenty-four hours to prepare and get permission for this “survival crash course”.  Because of the nature of their trip, they hadn’t had to prepare any equipment, but Cait had put in some calls to her friends to arrange all of this.

They were both wearing sturdy jeans and their hiking boots. Archie wore a long-sleeved t-shirt, while Cait wore short sleeves and had a sweatshirt tied around her waist. She’d winked at him right before they’d boarded the helicopter, and said that it was probably cheating to carry protective gear, but she got cold easily.

It seemed like forever before he felt the helicopter begin its decent, and Archie sat up straighter, nervous and excited to begin this adventure. Clay Jeneske was a passionate man who knew how to survive in the Pacific Northwest wilderness. Archie knew from reading the script that by the end of the movie, Jeneske would be desperate to outlast his pursuers, and willing to do anything to survive.

Archie needed to understand that feeling, in order to become Jeneske. And Cait had come up with the perfect way to do it.

They landed and scrambled out. Cait waved at the pilot with a cheery smile.

“Thanks so much, Frank! You were a big help!”

The older man in the baseball cap and headset waved in return and yelled, “Thank Wade, not me! Good luck! If we don’t hear from you by Tuesday, Dani and I will be back with S-and-R!”

Archie and Cait stood back and watched the helicopter take off again, then stood some more as the loud whomp-whomp of its motors faded into the distance and the silence of the little mountain clearing slowly took over.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “S-and-R?” he asked Cait.

Taking his hand in hers, Cait smiled slightly. “Search and Rescue. Wade’s younger sister Dani is one of the leaders, and you can bet she’d come looking for us if necessary.”

Thinking of all the people who would be inconvenienced if he went missing—the director and film crew, not to mention a few good friends like Jack—Archie winced. “But it won’t be necessary, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, squeezing his hand. “Listen, I’ve done this before. I actually cheated and do have a phone which I know will get reception out here.” She patted a fanny pack Archie hadn’t noticed before. “I don’t plan on using it, but if anything goes wrong, help will get to us in under an hour.”

He nodded, slowly exhaling. “And where are we?”

She tugged him into motion, heading towards the other side of the small clearing. “McIver’s Mountain. It’s not ranch property, but nearby. It actually belongs to my best friend’s family—Katie McIver is the one I told you about, the one who makes soap? I met her when we were both lifeguarding at the ranch, and her older brother basically runs the show as the head engineer. So they’re Quinns too, but like, real Quinns, the current generation.”

Remembering what she’d told him about her home town on the day they’d met, Archie asked, “So your best friend is your cousin?”

She snorted. “Like, fifth cousins or something. Katie’s mother was a Quinn, and her parents run Quinn Valley Ranch right now. But she married a McIver, so Katie and Andrew and their siblings have this awesome mountain.” Cait gestured around them expansively, taking in the impressive view, the rhododendron bushes, and the sound of the birdsong around them. “Katie and I used to come up here on our time off a few summers ago, when we were both working at the ranch. There’s a rumor that this is supposedly where Bigfoot lives, you know.”

“I didn’t.” Archie rolled his eyes. “We’re not in danger, are we?”

Striding through the knee-high grass, she chuckled. “No, because the family legend is that Bigfoot used to live here, and buried his gold somewhere on this mountain.”

Bigfoot’s gold. Right. “And did you and Katie ever look for it?”

“Well, we used to hike here, yeah.”

“So you know this place like the back of your hand, right?”

“Not quite. We never had Frank and his helicopter to drop us off, so I’ve only been up this high once before. But I think I know where we’re going…”

Clay Jeneske didn’t have the benefit of knowing his surroundings, but Archie figured this was another little bonus he wouldn’t begrudge. It was nerve-wracking to realize he was alone on this mountain with a woman he’d known less than two weeks…a woman he trusted implicitly to get him out of here.

And what’s more, he’d chosen to do this.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “So, where are we going?”

As they stepped into the shadows on the far side of the clearing, the temperature dropped a few degrees, and Archie felt the forest close in around them. The air smelled sweeter in here, away from the sun, but also a bit mustier. Heavy rhododendron leaves crackled under his feet, and something scurried away into the underbrush in the distance. Here, in the middle of the wilderness, Archie felt something primitive and terrifying beating against his chest.

He slowly smiled.

Cait was ducking under and around the snaking limbs of the bushes. “We’re looking for a game trail. I thought I saw one from the clearing, and that’s the easiest—ah.”

She halted when she stepped onto what was probably considered a trail, even though the path was less than a foot wide.

“This was originally a deer run, probably. But the McIvers allow some hikers up here occasionally—though there shouldn’t be any up here now—so humans have likely expanded it slightly. But it’s wildlife who’ve kept it clear.”

Eyeing the “trail” doubtfully, Archie nodded. “And it will lead us…where, exactly?”

Cait shrugged and plopped her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m not entirely sure. I’m hoping that somewhere up there” –she jerked her chin towards a rock face that rose above the trees in the distance— “we’ll be able to find some shelter. An overhang, maybe, or even a small cave.” She bit her lip slightly, then exhaled. “But we’ve got more than enough time to make a shelter, if we can’t find one.”

“Shelter, right, okay.” That didn’t seem so hard. Last week she’d taught him the basics of building shelter, so hopefully this would be easy. “Luckily it’s not winter.”

She threw a smile over her shoulder as she began down the small trail. “No, but even summer in Idaho can have cold nights. And up here on the mountain things will get positively brisk.” A quick pat on her sweatshirt. “Hence my cold-weather gear here.”

As far as he was concerned, it was too hot to be wearing long sleeves at all, so he was looking forward to it getting colder.

As they hiked through the forest, Archie tried to mimic the way Cait moved. She seemed to flow around obstacles in the trail as if she were a deer herself. He breathed deeply and tried to find the focus he’d had as Jeneske, intent on the woods around him. He used Jeneske’s body language—hard and confident and full of coiled energy—and tried to meld it with Cait’s gentle gliding movements. It was an exercise in physical acting his old coaches from the stage would’ve appreciated.

She broke his concentration when she called back to him. “Do you remember the Big Three in a survival situation?”

This was something she’d drilled into him last week. What had they been…? “Shelter, Fire, Signal,” he growled in Clay Jeneske’s heavy snarl.

If the new voice caught her by surprise, she didn’t show it, but threw him a smile over her shoulder. “Yep. And what do you have to remember to do in a survival situation?”

“Sit down. Think. Observe. Plan. A working brain is our best tool,” he parroted back to her, thankful for the “STOP” acronym. “So we’re looking for shelter first?”

Cait pulled up as they reached the cliff face, and she stepped into the shale and rocky area at the base with her hands on her hips. “I think we’re going to have to make shelter,” she said, peering up at the rock.

Oh, excellent. A chance to try out his lean-to-making skills.

As they walked, Cait used the time to lecture. “So in most survival situations, the person is stuck out in the woods with nothing because he or she is in trouble or has screwed up and gotten lost, that sort of thing. Shelter and fire are essential, of course, but ‘signal’ is number three because it’s the sort of situation where people are looking for him or her. Rescue is the goal, because usually survival situations are accidental, and a person doesn’t want to put themselves in it.”

Archie huffed a little bark of laughter. “You mean most people aren’t as silly as us?”

“Adventurous,” she corrected. “But no, you’re right. What we’re going to do for the next few days is something most sane people try to avoid.” She held a branch out of the way for him. “So, we’re not actively encouraging rescue, and we’re not even trying to get home.”

She stopped and peered up through the branches at the late afternoon sun. Then, thoughtfully, she extended her right arm out to her side. “Basically, when we’re ready to get back to the ranch, we head down the mountain, then that way until we get to the road.” She smirked at him. “Benefits of knowing the area you’re trying to get lost in, I guess.”

“Got it.” He nodded. “So what you’re saying is that in a usual situation like this, a person is either actively trying to make his way somewhere, or waiting to be rescued.”

“Yep.” She began walking again. “But we—and Jeneske, from what I understand of your script—are just…surviving. So our only goal is to stay alive for the next few days.”

His flight back to LA left Spokane late Tuesday afternoon. He figured if they could make it back to the ranch by noon that day, he could get to the airport with little trouble.

By the time they’d walked all the way around the rockface, Archie was getting tired. His legs weren’t quite tired yet—thanks to that exercise regimen his trainer put him on—but he could use a rest. And he was really thankful for the big lunch they’d had before setting out; full of protein and liquid.

Still… “Any chance of water?”

“In a survival situation, shelter from the elements—and, say, hypothermia—is more important than sustenance, because you can freeze to death faster than you can starve.” She sounded like a professor, and not at all winded. “We, however, are learning to survive out here, so water sounds good.” She pointed to the west. “Water flows downhill, and there’s a break in the trees over there which I’m guessing is a stream. That’s where I’ve been heading.”

“Did you bring any purification tablets in that magic fanny pack of yours?” He’d been eyeing it speculatively, and not just because it was resting on, well, her fanny.

“Nope, but the water up here is pretty pure. I want you to take a few sips and then rest. I know my gut can handle it, but not sure about yours.”

Maybe he should’ve bristled at the idea of any part of him not being up to the task…but he was ready for a little rest. So he joined her in reclining by the little stream she found, and those first few cautious sips of water from his cupped hands tasted like Heaven.

After twenty minutes or so, she drank some more, then stood and began poking around the small clearing by the stream. “Do you remember how to make an A-Frame shelter?”

He wasn’t sure if he’d given his gut enough time to acclimate, so he didn’t risk another drink yet. Instead he stood and joined her in collecting small branches and sticks from the ground.

She watched with a critical eye for a minute, then nodded. “I see that you do, my young grasshopper.”

He flashed a smile up at her. “Are we making one, or two?”

From her lecture last week, he knew that the small A-frame structures were meant to mimic “mummy-style” sleeping bags. Or rather, the sleeping bags mimicked them. Either way they served the same purpose; to keep heat close to the body.

She frowned. “It’s really not going to be so cold we need to worry about hypothermia or anything. It’ll probably drop into the fifties, but that’s not too bad, and we definitely can handle it with two people’s body heat.” She chewed on her bottom lip once, then nodded, as if making up her mind. “Let’s make one A-Frame, just for shelter. We’re not going to worry about insulating it too much, and if it’s for two people, it’s going to have to be a lot taller and wider anyhow.” She nodded to a particular stick he was holding. “I’d say more of that length, fewer of the shorter kinds.”

“Aye-aye.” He saluted her with the stick.

The lean-to was constructed around a central pole, laid diagonally from a crook of a tree about three feet off the ground. If it had been for one person, like usual, the pole would’ve been closer to the ground, to better mimic a mummy bag. This one started with an uprooted sapling laid into the crook, then a bunch of smaller sticks leaned against it in a sort of tent structure. She constantly pointed out ways they could make it more insulative, if they were truly concerned about retaining heat. But by the time they were done, sweat was dripping off Archie’s forehead—this beard was hot!—and his stomach was growling.

“Whew!” He threw himself down by the stream once more, deciding his stomach could handle more water. “What’s for dinner. Did you pack granola bars in your fanny pack?” Right now, he could go for a ribeye…

“Nope.”

She settled beside him, and drank from her cupped hands. The way she moved, so sure and graceful, was beautiful to watch. A drop of water streaked down her chin and caught the light from the setting sun as it fell to the dirt. He found himself licking his lips, watching her throat move as she drank…disappointed this outing was all business. Her lips were so kissable like that…

“Sorry, no dinner tonight.” She caught him staring at her, and must’ve thought he was still reacting to her earlier denial. If only she’d known what he was really—

“Wait, what? No dinner?” He sat up.

She shook her head, almost regretfully. “Shelter, fire, signal, remember? We don’t need a fire, not tonight at least, we don’t need to signal, and we’ve got the shelter. You wanted to experience a survival situation, experience the desperation…” She shrugged. “So we can eat tomorrow, assuming we can catch something.”

Catch something? Archie sighed, knowing she was right. In the fading light, there was little they’d be able to do for dinner, anyhow. Heaven knew he wasn’t experienced enough to find nuts or berries or whatever squirrels did. And by tomorrow, he’d probably be hungry enough to eat whatever she told him was edible.

He’d wanted to feel Clay Jeneske’s desperation, and going hungry seemed like a small price to pay to really understand.

The stars weren’t even out all the way when they climbed into their little shelter, feet first. Archie settled himself on his side, his arm crooked underneath him as a pillow, then Cait slithered in next to him. She rolled over onto her side, so her back was to him, but it didn’t feel alienating.

No, instead it felt…right. With only a little hesitation, Archie rested his free arm on her hip, and when she didn’t stiffen in rejection, tightened his hold on her. She sighed softly, and he felt her relax against him.

Holding her, even if it was under an A-Frame shelter they’d made together out in the middle of a mountain, made him feel happier than he could remember. No, it wasn’t just the holding. It was this woman. Cait made him feel happy.

Even if he was lying on the ground, even if he was already sore from hiking through the forest, even if his stomach was empty and uncomfortable…Archie was content. Wonderfully, fully content. With her—the woman who made him wonderfully happy in his arms—Archie was more content than he’d ever been in his life.

But this was just a temporary thing. Not even a vacation; he was at River’s End Ranch for only two weeks, to learn what he needed for his art. His job. He’d signed a contract to finish Big Sky Divide, and in only a few days, he’d be on a plane to resume filming.

Thanks to Cait Quinn, the remaining of the filming would not only go smoothly, it would be amazing. But that meant packing up and leaving her.

Whatever happiness or contentment he’d found here with her, he needed to remember it was temporary. Their lives were too different, and they both had responsibilities.

As Cait’s breathing deepened and she relaxed fully in sleep, Archie made a promise to himself. Once he was gone, he would contact Wade and arrange to have her paid a bonus for the amazing work she’d done for him. Even if he couldn’t be here with her, he would do his best to make her dreams come true. A few extra thousand dollars ought to get her that much closer to her dream of traveling around the world…even if he wasn’t there to see it.

With a supreme effort of will, Archie pushed aside the maudlin thoughts. Next week he’d be deeply immersed in Jeneske’s mind and life. He wouldn’t be able to think about the woman Archie St. John had been so content with…

But for now, he could cherish this unique feeling of contentment. Even with the thick smell of leaf mold all around, the sticks blocking out the sky only a few inches from his face, and the knowledge that if he or she moved even a tiny bit, they’d knock over their shelter…even with all that, he was still content.

He was happy. But for how long?