Ryland had the idea that Duke should go out with them tomorrow. Wyatt wasn't about to turn down any ideas and agreed to take the dog. Chase, Jack and Wyatt once again went over the maps and planned a new search grid.
Albert was going to stay behind. His knee was swollen and they couldn't risk him being injured out there. There was still plenty to do around the house to get ready for the rapidly approaching winter.
It was nearly ten o'clock when Wyatt crept back into the bedroom. His mom had folded the blankets and left them on the floor next to his dresser. He didn't want to disturb Megan and quickly made his bed on the floor again.
As he lay there, wide awake staring into the darkness, he could tell by the change in Megan's breathing that she was awake as well. Neither of them said a word. Wyatt hoped she would invite him into the bed, but she didn't. He fell into a fitful sleep.
The sound of footsteps woke him up. He blinked several times trying to orientate himself. Lifting his head to make sure Megan was still asleep, he rose and folded the blanket over pushing it out of the way before heading out to meet whoever was up. It was Jack.
He stretched and arched his back, trying to work the kinks out. That floor was way too hard to sleep on every night. If she didn't want him in the bed, she probably didn't want him in the room. He was going to take a couch tonight if he didn't bring Caitlin back.
They quickly went over their plans for the search. Ryland and Duke were joining Jack while Wyatt and Chase split up again. They wanted to cover as much ground as possible. He walked outside, appreciating how peaceful it felt. Taking a deep breath, he could feel the moisture in the air. Fluffy gray clouds had rolled in, which could mean rain or even snow. That would be a very bad thing.
“We better get moving,” Chase said.
The men headed out in silence once again.
The tree where they had found the bloody bandage was more than two miles from the lodge. The men covered the ground in no time and went their separate ways. Wyatt was determined to bring Caitlin home today.
Megan woke up feeling better than she had the day before. She hated taking pain pills. They always left her feeling foggy and drained. Her last pill had been yesterday afternoon and she felt much clearer. The pain was still in her ankle and lower leg, but it wasn't nearly as bad.
She had heard Wyatt leave, but pretended to be asleep. She knew she wasn’t being fair to him. They were doing everything they could to find her daughter and yesterday was their first potential clue. It was killing her that she couldn’t be out there too. Under normal circumstances, they’d have to tie her down to keep her from searching for her daughter and Megan’s frustration had turned her into an absolute grouch but she couldn’t seem to get it under control.
The crutches were leaning against the wall next to the bed. Megan didn't want to ask Rosie for help and figured she could manage on her own. She used her hands to lift her leg gently off the pillow. The moment she let it hang off the side of the bed, she hissed through her teeth. The pressure of the hanging limb was always painful for the first few seconds.
She breathed through the pain, grabbed the crutches, and stood up. It felt good to do something without anyone helping. Megan slowly moved out the door and to the bathroom. She would use the outhouse once the ankle healed a bit more but for now, she wasn’t dumb enough to risk falling and possibly breaking the ankle or even her leg.
When she came out of the bathroom, Rosie was standing there, hands on her hips, looking very displeased.
“I could have helped you,” she scolded.
“I needed to do it on my own. I feel a lot better today and if I don't get out of that bed and that room, things are going to get ugly.”
Rosie smiled, “Thank God. I was hoping you would be back to your fighting self!”
Megan grinned and then wiped it away as quick as it appeared. She shouldn't be smiling when her daughter was alone and scared.
“Since you are feeling better, why don't you have breakfast at the table today?”
Megan tried to turn down the offer of food, but Rosie wouldn't listen. She had lost her appetite. The stress over her daughter missing made her stomach turn at the very thought of eating.
Rosie insisted she eat a little to help keep up her strength.
Megan sat at the table for a long time, watching as Rosie went about doing her typical chores. Willow was upstairs, cleaning she imagined. The woman liked a tidy home and was constantly dusting, rearranging, and tidying up. Even before the EMP hit, Megan didn’t spend that much time cleaning but she could understand how it’d help pass the time; not to mention how helpful it was with so many people living under one roof.
“What can I do to help, Rosie?”
Her adopted mother didn't answer right away.
“Well, I do need to darn the socks. If you could do that, it would help me out.”
Even though they had hit the motherlode on warm socks, they couldn't afford to throw any away simply because they had a small hole in a toe. It was an old-fashioned trick that most people didn't even know how to do but since Rosie's mom was old school, it was something that had been passed down to her.
Megan was happy to help. Anything to take her mind off what was happening somewhere in the forest.
Rosie brought her the small basket of socks that had been building up over the summer. Every time someone got a snag or small hole, they dropped it in the basket for mending. The little wood chunk they used to stretch the sock was on top along with a little package that contained a needle and thread. They weren't picky about what color thread was used. It was about being functional, not pretty.
Megan got to work, sticking the wood block in a sock, making a few stitches to close the hole, and moving on to the next one. It was tedious work but the time was mercifully flying by.
“You feel like helping me with dinner?” Rosie asked.
Megan had finished her sock duty and was sitting at the table, staring off into space.
“Sure.”
Megan peeled the potatoes they had dug from the garden. They had an excellent potato crop. Willow had planted a variety of red and yellow potatoes and while both did well, it was the red potatoes that really produced the best.
The potatoes they harvested earlier in the season were already forming eyes, which meant they would be in good shape for planting in early spring.
They had plenty of corn as well. That had been another successful crop. Their tomatoes and peppers had not fared quite as well. The growing season was too short and they didn't get the heat needed to make the plants thrive.
Their dinner tonight would be a combination of fried potatoes with some freeze-dried beef cubes and some freeze-dried pepper slices. Megan was instructed on how to make tortillas from scratch. It was essentially a fajita without all the flare.
Then it was shucking corn and getting it ready to boil in a pot of water that was already heating on the woodstove.
Megan knew Rosie was keeping her busy for a reason. Each of the jobs she was assigned allowed her to sit down and keep her leg up.
The scene at the end of the day was a repeat from the day before. Each of the guys returned looking downtrodden. Even Duke had hung his head low. The hope that his dog senses would be what found Caitlin was quickly dashed.
Megan excused herself and went back to the bedroom when Wyatt came home without Caitlin. She couldn't deal with seeing him come back without her daughter. How could life be so cruel?
Wyatt was quietly talking to Rosie in the corner of the great room as Megan strained to overhear what they were saying.
“I can't believe you didn't find her. Someone has to have taken her,” Rosie told him.
“Whether she’s being held against her will, or doesn’t know how to get back home, I just don’t know but I’m not giving up.”
Rosie prepared a plate and took it into Megan.
When she came out of the bedroom, Wyatt looked at her, silently asking how Megan was doing.
“Sh
e's grieving, dear. I don't know how to help her. It is one of those things that each one of us has to get through on our own. Be there for her. Support her. Encourage her.”
Wyatt felt helpless.
“She blames me, mom. I don't know what else to do. We’ve looked everywhere. I just don't know where she could be.”
Chase slapped him on the shoulder, “We will search again tomorrow and we will find her. That's not even a question in my mind. She is holed up with someone who is keeping her safe. We find them, we find her. We need to refocus our search. We aren't looking for Caitlin. We are looking for Evan and his band of misfits.”
“That's assuming it’s Evan that has her.”
Wyatt wasn't sure they could assume that was the case. There were many variables. For now, they would work that theory until they found her or determined it wasn't the case.
“Let's go over the maps,” Chase started. “If there is a group of people living up here, we should be able to find them on the map. They will need to grow food, be near water, and have easy access to hunting. Or at least you would hope they would know they needed that.”
“I don't know,” Wyatt started. “They didn't seem all that self-reliant or ready to live off the land. I think they may be in town or close to it.”
“We'll search this entire mountain until we find her, Wyatt. Let's start at the top and work our way down.”
With tomorrow's search grid laid out, they all sat down to dinner. It was another quiet meal with very little conversation.
Wyatt didn't bother going into the bedroom. He went straight upstairs and collapsed on one of the couches, exhausted. They must have walked close to sixty miles in the past two days. He felt every one of those miles.
The next morning was the same routine. Megan waited until Wyatt, Chase and Jack had left before she emerged from the bedroom. Wyatt had crept in and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving, but they didn't talk.
Albert and Ryland were going to be sticking around the lodge to catch up on some of the chores that were falling behind. Megan knew the wedge between her and Wyatt was growing with each day of Caitlin's absence. It wasn't Wyatt's fault. In fact, it was her fault but she wanted to be angry with someone and he just seemed to draw her ire.
Her day was filled with preserving apples. They had more than they could possibly eat fresh so it was time to start drying them. She washed and peeled each of the apples before carefully cutting them into thin slices. She spread them out on a tray, drizzled some of the lemon juice they had over the top and laid them on the window screens they’d collected. Willow carried the screens to the rack by the stove.
The rack was a dehydrator of sorts that would rely on the heat from the wood stove to dry the food. The contraption stood about four feet high and two feet deep. There were four legs made from thick tree limbs. Smaller two-foot long branches were lashed to the legs to create a ledge, similar to what was inside an oven. The ledges were just wide enough to hold the window screens where the food was laid out.
It looked like a bread rack and actually served multiple purposes. They dried fruit and veggies on it and when it wasn't being used for that, they hung clothes on it to dry.
Willow tried to make small talk, but Megan wasn't up for it. Her ankle was throbbing and her mind couldn't focus on anything but Caitlin and what she was going through.
Once the screens had been filled, Megan started making applesauce. They had plenty of jars and clean lids. Willow had explained that fruit was safe to preserve in a boiling water bath because of the high acidity levels. They didn't need a pressure cooker like they would if they were trying to can vegetables or meat.
Once again, Megan peeled apples, sliced them up into chunks, and put them on the stove to cook for a bit. The actual canning would be done on the stove where they could reach a good rolling boil. They wanted to preserve as much fuel as possible and used the water that was already heated on the woodstove. Putting a lid over the pot would also help trap the heat and bring the water to a boil in no time at all.
“Just put all the peels and cores in this big pot,” Rosie instructed. “These are going to be great for making apple cider vinegar. I miss having that stuff around!”
Before the EMP, Megan had heard about ACV as it was called, as an excellent weight loss remedy. Rosie laughed when Megan told her that. She said it probably did help, but she liked it for other reasons.
“I use it to treat colds, sinus infections, and for relieving the pain of a bee sting. It's one of those all-purpose things you want to have around.”
Spotting the apples Megan had prepared, Rosie beamed. “Wow! Look at all those slices! This is great. You ready?” she asked, wiping her hands on the flowery apron she was wearing.
“Yep, show me how to make your magic potion.” Megan tried to be upbeat but it just wasn't there.
Rosie grabbed the bucket of raw honey. The honey was a staple around the house and used in meal preparations all the time. While chopping wood last month, Jack had sliced his finger nearly clean off. Rosie stitched it, slapped some honey on it, and it healed in record time with no sign of infection. She always joked that if she could only have one thing in this world, it would be her raw honey.
“So, we are going to put all these peels and cores in this big pickle jar. I'll go get some water, can you spoon about eight tablespoons of honey into the jar. Just put it on top of the slices.”
Rosie came back in carrying a pitcher of fresh water from the potable water supply. She poured it over the slices until all were covered. Then she grabbed a pair of old pantyhose, stretched a piece over the opening of the jar and tied a string around the edge to keep it in place.
“There. That's it. Now, we let nature take its course. In two weeks, we'll strain it, saving the liquid. It will be time to toss out all the chunky stuff and let the liquid ferment for about four weeks. One of us will need to give it a good stir every day.”
“That's it?” Megan was incredulous. All these years, she had been throwing away apple peels and cores, when she could have been making her own magic potions.
“Yup. Now, since we didn't use all the apple slices, we will make us some nice potpourri. We'll just let them dry and put them in a bowl on the table. I love the way they smell for the first week or two. After that, into the compost heap they go.”
Willow chimed in, “Those bad boys are super high in nitrogen. That is going to get that compost heap cooking!”
Megan had to laugh. Willow got very excited about her compost heap. At times it stunk so bad it made Megan want to vomit but Willow said that was a good sign things were really cooking. She would give it a good stir and the smell would die down after a day or so.
There was so much to learn but Megan enjoyed every minute of it.
12
The steady rain and dropping temperature added to Wyatt’s diminishing confidence in finding Caitlin. Under normal circumstances, the first forty-eight hours was critical but this was the new normal and he was at a loss. Sighing, a puff of steam in front of his face reminded him of just how cold it was, as he’d gone numb hours ago. Numb to the miserable cold, wet and the blister that had decided to show up on his heel earlier that day.
Over the last five days, they’d covered more miles than they had in the six months they’d been living on the mountain full time and each new day dawned with hope only to end in failure. Caitlin simply wasn’t out there. Maybe the person who found her was on the move, which could mean that they were sixty miles away by now. He had no idea which direction to look.
During his time with the Chicago PD, they would have used social media and Crime Stoppers to help find a missing child. Out here in the woods, there weren’t enough people out here to make putting up signs worth it; plus it would draw unwanted attention. Their only option was to keep searching but deep down, Wyatt knew that when the weather did turn, that would become impossible.
As it was, the chores around the house were being ignored. They still neede
d to finish the preparations for winter. He had wanted to get another storage bin built to hold the potatoes and carrots. They had also planned to attach a mudroom of sorts onto the back door.
A mudroom would allow them to keep their snowy boots and other gear out of the house. It would also cut down on the drafts and bursts of cold air that came in every time the back door was opened. He had no idea what this winter would hold, but he knew it would be a struggle to keep the entire cabin warm. They were already burning through their wood supply quickly.
Wyatt felt more alone than he ever had in his life as he stared up at the lodge looming before him. It felt as if he was stuck in a horrible repeating pattern. Every morning he went out with the intention of bringing Caitlin home and every night he returned empty-handed.
He couldn't stand the look of disappointment on Megan's face when he came through the door without her daughter. Wyatt knew this would destroy their relationship. There was a very good possibility Megan would leave the group if Caitlin weren’t found. He knew what it was like to run away from the place where there were so many reminders of what had been lost.
It was one of the reasons why he joined the Navy. The loss of his little sister was too much too cope with and while his parents never blamed him, he should have been able to stop her from running in front of that car. He was the big brother. He should have known better.
Wyatt walked through the door, hoping everyone was busy so he wouldn't have to see the disappointed looks on their faces, again.
He wasn't so lucky. Chase and Jack had already returned and were sitting at the kitchen table with Megan. The maps were spread out in front of them showing Megan where they had already searched.
No one looked at him. They all knew he hadn't found her. Their focus was on the maps. His mom and Willow were busy folding laundry and quietly talking. Duke gave out a bark. He was under the table, lying next to Megan's one good foot.
Ryland looked over the railing from upstairs. When he saw it was only Wyatt, he shook his head, apparently telling Albert, who was also upstairs, that he had failed again.
The EMP Lodge Series: Books One to Three Page 27
