Sable Peak (The Edens)
Sable Peak: Part 2 – Chapter 30

Mateo’s low chuckle made me pause.

“What?” I threw the question over my shoulder.

“Where’s the fire?”

I stopped and turned. “Huh?”

Mateo had stopped too, hands on hips, on the path behind me. “You’re practically sprinting up this mountain, darlin’.”

“Oh.” My muscles were warm but not burning. My heart rate was elevated but my lungs weren’t straining to keep up. “This is just … how I hike.”

Mateo’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, looking down at me from under the brim of his hat. “You’re the fastest hiker I’ve ever known. When I followed you up here that morning you snuck out, it was everything I could do to keep up. You move like a ghost through these woods. It’s incredible. But we’re not exactly going for a sneak attack, Peach. We’re hoping to be noticed.”

“Oh.”

He was right. Stealth was not the goal.

But this was how Dad had taught me to hike. To move without a sound. To blend into nature’s noises so my own would go unnoticed. Light feet. Strong muscles. Silent mouths. Especially if we were anywhere near a hiking trail like the one beneath my feet.

The only time we were loud was when we were deep in the woods where the forests were thick and progress slow. Those days, we’d talk or whistle. Sometimes Dad would sing so that we were making enough noise to spook nearby predators, like bears or mountain lions, who wouldn’t react well to being surprised.

“I’ll slow down,” I told Mateo.

“Lead on.” With a wink, he swatted my ass.

I set out again, this time deliberately slowing my steps. When I lifted a foot to clear a stick, I quickly changed the movement and stomped on it instead.

The snap made me cringe. For four years I’d dodged branches and twigs. That crunch felt wrong down to my bones.

We’d veered off Sable Peak’s trailhead two miles ago, following no particular path as we wandered through the wilderness. I’d shared my maps with Mateo earlier this week, and we’d agreed on this section to tackle next. To stick around Sable Peak until it was done. After that, I wasn’t sure where to go next.

There were too many mountains. Too many places for Dad to hide. Maybe we’d have to enlist Vance’s help after all. Vance had been trained for this sort of thing, but at the moment, I wanted that to be our last resort.

Vance was building his career as a Quincy cop. If we found Dad, it would mean new secrets. New lies. I didn’t want to ask Vance to lie for me again.

“Vera.”

Behind me, Mateo was lagging. I’d been going too fast again. “Shit. Sorry.”

He chuckled. “Let me take the lead for a bit.”

“Okay.” I waited for him to catch up and pass me, then fell in step behind him. At least the view was nice.

He was wearing a pair of his faded Wranglers, the denim clinging to the curve of his butt and legs. There was something about the back pockets of those jeans. Now that I could, I slid my hands into his pockets whenever possible.

“I can feel your eyes on my ass.” He twisted and shot me a wicked grin.

I giggled. “Guilty.”

“To be fair, I was staring at yours all morning.” He stopped, waiting until I reached his side. Then he bent down to brush a kiss to my mouth. “You okay?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“We’ll find him.” The confidence in his voice was catching.

We would find him.

Our morning had started early. We’d dropped Allie off at Eloise and Jasper’s A-frame house to spend the day playing. Then, like I’d done the last time Swenson had been in Quincy, we’d driven by The Eloise Inn before heading to the mountains—Swenson’s car was in the lot and the light to his room was on.

Still, I’d checked the mirrors countless times as we’d driven to the trailhead, but Mateo’s truck was the only one in sight as we’d parked, and if Swenson was following us, he’d need to be a hell of a hiker.

Mateo might tease me about racing up the mountain, but his pace would outmatch almost anyone’s.

“What do you think would have happened if Vance hadn’t found you?” Mateo asked as we kept walking.

“I don’t know.” I’d asked myself that same question a thousand times.

Life out here had gotten both easier and harder. Easier because we’d had a routine. A home of sorts. Harder because … it was a hard life. Food wasn’t guaranteed. Winters were brutal. Squatting to pee wasn’t exactly glamorous. It had become more and more difficult to summon the strength to keep up with Dad. With every passing month, my energy had waned.

“Living out here always felt temporary,” I told Mateo. “Those years when we were constantly on the move, it was running. Adrenaline was a big motivator in the beginning. I never expected it to last forever. I thought at some point, we’d stop. But Dad just kept going. Kept running. He didn’t stop until I got sick.”

Maybe that was why I’d gotten sick. The idea of moving on, of enduring endless miles, had shut my body down.

“It got easier when we came to Montana.” I tilted my gaze to the treetops and the blue sky peeking past their limbs. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

These mountains had been my refuge. This was where I’d finally … breathed. For the first time since that night, this was where I’d outwardly mourned.

This forest had caught my countless tears. The moments I’d had to myself while Dad was hunting or setting snares and traps, I’d let the lid of that box crack open, just a little. And I’d let myself grieve for my sisters.

Maybe I’d never talk about them again, but I’d cried rivers for Elsie and Hadley. These trees had drunk the tears. The azure-blue sky had swallowed my cries. While I’d mourned two beautiful souls, these mountains had never left my side.

“This was home. We made a home,” I said. “But it wasn’t home. It was temporary too. Eventually, I knew we’d run out of money. Not that we spent much, but there were just certain supplies from town I’d get each month. I’d pick up certain foods whenever Dad worried we weren’t getting enough fat in our diet. It all cost money. Every trip to town was a risk. Down deep, I knew it couldn’t last.”

And it didn’t. Vance had caught me on a trip to Quincy.

I’d run from him that day. It had been out of fear for Dad that I’d raced in the opposite direction when I’d recognized his face. But my first reaction, before the panic had set in, had been this crippling relief that it was over. That we could stop running.

That I could live again.

“I think Dad knew I was fading. It was his idea that I go back with Vance.”

Mateo slowed to a stop, waiting for me to step up beside him. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

“Part of me is terrified that when we find your father, you’ll stay with him.” The air rushed from his lungs, like he’d been holding that secret in for weeks.

“No. Even if we find him, I won’t stay.” I missed Dad so much it hurt, but this wasn’t the life for me. “Dad loves it out here. This is where he belongs now. What happened … it broke him. Broke us.”

Mateo’s hand took mine. “Not you.”

I was broken, whether he thought so or not. Irrevocably broken, like Dad? No. But a part of me had shattered that night and no amount of time or love would ever repair what had been destroyed. All I could hope for was enough strength to move forward. To balance the broken with unbroken and find peace.

All this time, I’d been worried about normal.

But my definition of normal was wrong, wasn’t it? Normal didn’t mean I became the woman I would have been if not for that night.

Maybe my version of normal meant finding peace with a very not-normal past.

Maybe if I’d had a therapist or counselor years ago, it wouldn’t have taken me so long to come to that realization.

“I’ve been thinking about school,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been enjoying my psychology classes. When I registered at the beginning of the semester, I was hoping maybe it would help me understand my parents. But the more I learn, the more I want to keep learning. Maybe I could become a social worker or a counselor or … I don’t know. It was just a thought.”

“I like that idea.” Mateo used our clasped hands to tug me into his arms. “Whatever you decide, you know I’m in your corner.”

“I know.” I smiled against the thermal shirt that pulled tight across his broad chest. “It’s a lot of school. I might not be able to take them all online.”

“We’ll make it work.” Mateo kissed my hair and let me go. But he kept my hand in his as we continued to hike, picking our way past trees as we scanned our surroundings.

We hadn’t put a limit on how long we’d stay out today, but as the sun passed directly overhead, the disappointment in another unproductive journey settled like a gray cloud. Another hour at most, and we’d need to head back to the truck.

That hour passed too quickly. The forest wasn’t as thick here, and the grass swished against the hem of my jeans, the taller stalks brushing my calves. White and yellow wildflowers dotted the field of green. It was hard to appreciate its beauty today with that cloud hanging over my head.

“We should probably turn around,” I said.

Mateo let go of my hand and took a step forward, like he hadn’t heard me.

“Mateo.”

He lifted a finger to his lips.

I clamped my mouth shut and craned my ears, listening for anything as my eyes swept from left to right. There was no one. No sound.

He jerked his chin for me to follow as he took off into the field, walking so fast I had to jog every other step to keep up.

Mateo’s gaze roved from side to side, searching. The minute he spotted whatever it was he’d been looking for he changed paths, marching straight toward a row of bushes in the distance. His body blocked my view until we were just ten feet away.

I saw the gap in the bushes first. The small hole and narrow, trodden path in the grass. Dad had taught me to identify bunny trails where rabbits would leave the safety of the thicket to feed on wild carrot and sweet cicely.

So focused on the trail, it wasn’t until I was standing directly beside Mateo that I spotted a fluff of white and tan, stark against the greenery.

A rabbit.

My heart climbed into my throat as Mateo bent to inspect the dead animal. A thin wire was looped around its neck.

I knew that wire.

Two years ago, before I’d left, I’d bought Dad three new rolls of that malleable, thin gauge wire for his snares. Mateo had found his snare line.

“How?”

Mateo glanced up. “I heard it scream.”

Rabbits often let out a scream of terror and panic before they died. A sound that made my heart twist so violently I’d stopped going with Dad whenever he checked his snare line.

There had to be more. My gaze darted around, searching for more trails and wires.

Twenty feet from where Mateo was still kneeling, a shrub had been nibbled recently. I slowed, crouching to find a gap in the grass.

The wire was nearly invisible, but I’d built enough snares to pick it out against the foliage. Its loop was about the size of Dad’s palm. He’d tied it to a nearby shrub, positioning the loop about four finger widths off the ground. A stick had been shoved into the earth below the snare’s loop, something Dad liked to do to ensure the animals didn’t duck under the wire but instead jumped through it. Then the wire would kink around the rabbit’s neck so it couldn’t get loose.

“It’s him,” I said as Mateo came to stand by my side.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

I shifted the pack off my shoulders, unzipping the front pocket to retrieve the note I’d written in the kitchen this morning.

It should have been easy, leaving it on the grass for my father to find. But I stared at the words for a long moment, doubting what I’d written.

Stop hiding from me.

Everything would change when he found this note.

Because if nothing changed, if he ignored it, it would break my heart.

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