Mountain Getaway

by Pine, Heather

  When choosing the campsite, Molly hadn't thought about how being so close to the mountains would cause chillier mornings. All she had wanted was a location where she would escape the heat wave in the city.

  But this was cold. A bone-chilling cold. Her fleece hoodie would not be enough to keep her warm, and she determined she would need more layers.

  Molly placed her bowl of cereal on the roof of her car and pulled a folding chair from the trunk. Setting up the dry chair by the tent, she grabbed an extra blanket and wrapped it around herself.

  “Warmer already,” she said, settling into the chair with her cereal.

  Molly scooped another bite into her mouth and closed her eyes. This was going to be a good day. Despite it being her first night sleeping outside, she had a decent sleep and was excited to see what the day would bring. She may have resisted taking a break, but now she found herself looking forward to doing things at a slower pace without ever thinking about Brad.

  She grimaced. Why did her mind have to remember she had someone she wanted to forget? Perhaps not saying his name would make it easier to redirect her thoughts to other things, like the bowl of cereal. She closed her eyes as she tried to distract herself.

  A drop of milk hit her chin and her eyes fluttered open. Spotting the light-colored dog standing at the edge of the campsite sent her hand to her chest.

  “You startled me,” she said.

  Its tail wagged as it held its position in the underbrush. The dog’s dark-brown eyes stared at her, as if waiting for an invitation to visit.

  “Didn't I tell you to go home?”

  The dog beat its tail against the ground, happy that Molly acknowledged it once again.

  “Are you wanting to play?”

  Its ears lifted. She must have said a familiar word.

  “I won’t play with you.”

  Its ears lifted again. Molly thought of her earlier interaction with the pup. She hadn’t shown kindness when she commanded it to go home. It was early, and she was hungry, not to mention only moments before she had feared for her safety after believing a bear was sniffing around her campsite.

  “I am going to eat because I'm hungry,” she said in a playful tone.

  The dog smacked its lips and lowered its head. Whoever owned this dog had either neglected to give it breakfast or they were still asleep, as the dog was now begging from her. The worst scenario would be that someone lost their dog, but the odds were the dog belonged to a guest at the campground. As hungry as it was acting, all she needed to do was wait and it would run off to its owner.

  She stared at its pleading eyes. “I can't feed you,” she said. “I don't have any dog food.”

  The dog took one step forward.

  “If I give you cereal, it could make you sick. Believe me, you don't want that.”

  The dog's tail wagged.

  Molly leaned to the side and slapped the chair, beckoning the dog to approach. “Come on. I guess you want some company.”

  The dog scampered forward, kicking up gravel around its feet. It nuzzled its face against Molly’s hand, then sat at her feet, turning its head upward to gaze at her.

  “You're friendly, aren't you?”

  Its tail beat against the ground, clearing away the gravel until only a patch of dirt remained. The dog moved its head until Molly’s hand slid to its ears, prompting her to scratch. She placed her cereal bowl onto her lap and gave the dog a two-handed scratch behind both ears.

  “That feels good, doesn't it?”

  The dog's mouth hung open as it panted and stretched its neck. With its nose pointed to the sky, the dog relished in the attention, allowing Molly to scratch under its collar, rattling its metal tags together.

  “Let's see who you are.” Molly held the tags in her hand, turning each over to inspect for a name. “These are only a license and vaccination tags. Do you have a name? I don't even know if you are a boy or a girl. Which are you? Huh?”

  The dog laid down, and Molly leaned back, allowing her visitor to rest at her feet. “I guess getting scratched is exhausting.”

  Molly picked up her bowl and continued to eat her cereal. The dog groaned and sighed as it rested at her feet. It was awkward to eat in front of her furry guest, but she knew better than to feed a stray dog, and especially knew not to feed it unfamiliar food that would make it sick. The owner would feed the dog soon enough, and Molly was already being generous by giving the dog a good scratch. She should have sent it on its way again, giving the dog no attention at all, but she didn’t and was glad she had invited it over. The dog at her feet brought warmth on a chilly morning.

  In a campground this quiet and with wild animals in the surrounding forest, the dog had a calming effect on her. Her body relaxed as her companion protected her. She would be safe with it here, if it alerted her to signs of trouble.

  The dog lifted its head and rose to its feet. She looked over her shoulder at the trees, but nothing had changed. Instead of barking or acting alarmed, the dog sauntered toward the entrance to her campsite.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. “Bored with me already?”

  The dog didn't look back and exited onto the road, turning into the campsite two spots away, wagging its tail as someone stepped out of their trailer onto their gravel pad.

  Satisfied the dog had returned home, she continued eating her cereal, now aware that her once warm feet were cold. The dog had provided her with a little company, without being intrusive or talking back like people would do. It looked up at her, wanting affection, and perhaps a taste of her cereal. Receiving none, it remained at her feet, until its owners emerged from their trailer.

  As much as it had bothered her to have a random dog wander into her campsite, she had enjoyed its brief visit. She didn't need to care for it and only needed to be a friend for a short time while it waited for its owners.

  But… they should have at least had it on a leash or placed it in a crate, she grumbled. Even better, the dog could have slept inside the trailer with them rather than leaving it outdoors in the cold, where it might wander off in the night or roam where animals could attack it.

  While her opinion of the dog had improved, her opinion of its owners had declined. Sure, some dogs enjoyed the outdoors, but when traveling in strange locations where someone could try to steal one’s pet, the owners were irresponsible. That poor dog was lucky to have wandered into Molly’s campsite, and it hadn’t tried to steal an irritable camper's breakfast.

  She filled a washbasin at a nearby tap and cleaned her dishes at the picnic table. Her fingers were numb as she rinsed soap from the spoon. Molly assumed the water from the tap must come from the creek, fed by the mountain glaciers, and decided tomorrow she would boil water on her camp stove to add to the ice-cold water and provide her hands with some warmth.

  She dumped the dirty water into the drain by the shower facilities and returned her dishes to the trunk of the car. If her hands weren't so cold, she would drive into town to get a hot cup of coffee, but they were much too chilled to touch a steering wheel, which would not be warm. She tucked her hands under her arms and shivered before wrapping herself in her blanket.

  From her chair, she looked up at the blue tarp hanging over her site. The problem with a tarp was how it blocked the view of the mountains and sky. It did, however, keep the covered portion of her site dry and she could always move her chair out from under the tarp to see the view, or go for a walk. She was glad she had braved the rain and hung the tarp when she did, and she would be thankful to have a dry place to sit after the next rainfall.

  After her hands warmed, she unpacked a rope and strung it between the trees to form a laundry line. The washcloth needed drying.

  “There,” she said to herself. It was a decent clothesline that only sagged a little when she draped the cloth over the rope. She glanced down and saw the dog standing beside her, wagging its tail. “You're back. Did you enjoy your breakfast?”

  The dog tilted its head. Molly scratched behind
its ears and its tail beat the ground.

  “Are you proud of my laundry line? It's saggy, but I shouldn't have to hang much.”

  The dog turned and looked across the road.

  “Going somewhere?” Molly asked. The dog preferred not to stay in the same place for long. “You should stick close so they know where to find you.” A rumble of an engine echoed through the campsite, along with the clang of metal. “It sounds like some people are packing up.” But not Molly. She smiled to herself. Those poor folks may have reached the end of their vacation, but hers had only just begun. In fact, she had brought along an itinerary of activities in the area to consider exploring during her stay... if she wanted to. With clear skies, she might try to explore some of them today.

  She checked her watch and quickly covered it with her sleeve. Time didn’t matter here. This was the first vacation where she could sit and be lazy without being judged by her family or friends. The activities could be what she wanted without having to accommodate anyone else's interests. It was all about her, and she didn’t feel guilty about liking it that way.

  But what did she want to do? Trails surrounded the property, and most she would consider safe if she equipped herself with bear spray or stuck to the popular trails. That was her plan. But first, she needed to explore the campground.

  “I’m going to go for a walk.” The dog’s ears lifted. “You should stay here. Alright?”

  The light-colored dog sat on the ground and whined as it watched her walk toward the road. It had been well-trained. If only it would stay in its campsite near its owners.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see the dog now lying on the ground with its head resting on its front legs. Its sad eyes begged her to invite it along with her, but coaxing it to follow her would lead the dog away from its owners.

  Molly walked past the shower facilities to the first loop of campsites. Some sites were empty and ready for future guests. Another site sat occupied with campers already eating breakfast. Next door, a man worked to disassemble his tent. Engines started and the quiet morning Molly had enjoyed was ending. She hoped the noise was temporary. Once those who were checking out had left, all who would remain would be those staying at least another night.

  Molly stuffed her hands in her coat pocket and kept moving. Already, her body warmed, just by keeping a good pace. A small dog on a leash barked by the steps of a travel trailer. The owner poked her head out the door to shush the pup with a wave of a finger. The dog grumbled and curled up on a woven mat at the base of the steps, giving a few stifled woofs for good measure. Molly’s furry visitor was quiet. It was a silent guest and never said a word when it came by. This just proved what Molly had heard before about dogs. The small ones were yappy.

  Chapter Five

  Rick didn’t know why he shoved Robert’s unopened envelope into the back pocket of his jeans. He had glared at the envelope on the kitchen counter where he left it the day before, and yet he felt compelled to bring it with him until he decided what to do with Robert Fletcher’s offer. His family raised him in a business-focused household where they gave each opportunity due consideration, even if they had already made up their minds. His father would have encouraged him to at least look at the offer and see for himself what he was rejecting. Opening the envelope shouldn’t mean anything, yet to Rick, it did.

  He wasn’t interested in selling the cabin he saved to purchase on his own without the help of his family. His city friends encouraged him to continue to live rent-free in his father’s condominium, but the city life wasn’t for him and he wanted to live independently from his family.

  His move from the city was the best decision he ever made. The transition to Lemon Grove brought a change in lifestyle and clarity. The distance to the city meant no daily visits to the office, which reduced the number of meetings the company invited him to attend. His family didn’t expect him at every social gathering with their friends, most of which were also business contacts, and they often used the gatherings as another chance to close a deal.

  Rick avoided playing the business game and chasing the dream of being rich, hoping money would one day make him happy. He already found what would make him happy.

  It was summer, six years ago, when Rick had fallen in love with Lemon Grove, and he remembered the day he discovered the town with fondness. He had spent a long day completing a business deal after a senior sales associate botched the job. The deal shouldn’t have gone sideways, but it did. His father asked Rick to fix the problem, which meant staying behind while the rest of the family left for their vacation without him.

  He grumbled on the drive out of the city. All he needed to do was be the face of the family name and win over a customer. The sale would be easy since he could tell from previous interactions the woman was into him. Suggesting the meeting take place over dinner almost guaranteed the sale before anyone ordered their meal. Rick had influence over women, and his father knew it. He was lucky to inherit his looks from his mother’s side of the family, and his father liked to exploit them for business at every opportunity.

  “We give the customer what they want,” his father would say with a wink. “Use those looks while you still can.”

  Rick hated the way his father paraded him around to flirt with the clients. It didn’t matter if the women liked his attention, or even requested to work with him. He hated using his looks to make a deal. It was manipulative, and it ate away at his integrity. He didn’t want a reputation as a playboy or as a sleazy business executive.

  “It’s part of the territory,” his father argued against Rick’s protests. “Embrace it, Rick. Many men would die to be in your shoes. Who wouldn’t want to wine and dine beautiful women and close a business deal all in one night? You could have it all if you play your cards right.”

  Playing his cards right meant playing the way his father wanted him to. Six years ago, Rick realized his time as the handsome face of the family business had ended.

  He didn’t yet see his next move, but he was ready for a change. The further he drove out of the city, the more he thought about his need to break free. A little distance between him and the family business would create less stress for him and, he hoped, would improve his relationship with his parents. Boundaries were a healthy thing, at least that was what the television experts always said. But boundaries were something he didn’t have when he worked for his parents and lived in their family-owned condominium. Something needed to change, and it needed to happen soon.

  Perhaps his emotions had caught up and overwhelmed him and he needed a moment to regain his composure. Or maybe it was that he didn’t want to join his parents at the, then, much-smaller Lemon Eagle Resort, but when he had spotted a sign for the town of Lemon Grove, he turned off the road to make a brief stop. The smell of nature captured his senses. The quiet as he sat in his car at the end of the road called to him and the rich green trees excited him. While he had been in nature before, he never stopped to appreciate it. The calming effect of the environment brought to the surface a sense of healing and happiness he hadn’t experienced since he was a child. There were no pressures on him as he sat in the car while the wind blew through the open windows.

  When he walked into Patsy’s café and met the locals, their personalities and life sold him on Lemon Grove. Once he discovered the slower pace of the community, combined with the welcoming warmth of the people, he concluded quickly this was home. He never went to meet his parents at Lemon Eagle Resort, and they never forgave him for it.

  Rick didn’t care. He wanted to be in the town, and over the next year he put a plan into motion to move the rest of his life from the city to Lemon Grove. After living here for five years, it was still the best decision he ever made. He never regretted his choice. Not even once.

  Nothing beat getting up in the morning to see the sunrise behind the trees and watch the deer graze in his backyard. He viewed a few homes before looking at the cabin, but this one stood out with its acres of trees, private yard, and a
home he would one day grow into. This would be the place he would raise his family. Not the city. He would protect his future children from the constant pressure to work for the family business, and Rick swore he would never sacrifice family time for a company, like his father.

  He looked forward to finding someone like-minded and starting a family. The children would enjoy running around the backyard while he sat on the back deck holding his wife’s hand. Each time he visualized his future, he couldn’t imagine selling his property to Robert Fletcher. That is why he never opened the envelope, yet he still carried it around in his back pocket out of habit. No amount of money could buy his dream. This place meant too much to him and selling it would mean selling a piece of himself.

  The morning carried on as Rick walked around the northern end of his property to inspect the fence. No one bothered the low-horizontal fence by the road, and it fared well over the winter. A few boards needed replacement, and a fresh coat of white paint would sharpen its appearance and give it several more years of life. He made note of the repairs and continued along the fence when his phone rang.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Good morning. I didn’t know if you were already up.” She knew. He had already responded to his work emails before going out into the yard, one of which he addressed to her. Rick noticed her cool tone. This was not a simple check in call, and there was something on her mind.

  “Did you get my email about the changed deadlines?”

  His mother gave a cheap laugh. She was never great at acting. “Oh, was that you?”

  “That was me,” Rick said as he gave one of the fence posts a shake.

  “Yes, I see that now,” she said. “Well, I understand Robert Fletcher came by the other day.”