Mariah Stewart - Coming Home

“Seriously?”

When he nodded, she asked, “What’s the big deal with the whole sport thing, anyway?”

He hesitated before answering. He’d never really thought about why he did it, other than the fact that he liked it.

“Well, I guess because it makes for a peaceful day. You have to stand real still so you don’t scare off the fish, and you don’t talk or make any sound for the same reason. There’s just the sun and the water flowing downstream and the fish, and you. It’s just a good excuse to be outside, in nature, all by yourself.”

“But aren’t you always by yourself anyway?” she asked.

“When I’m home I am,” he admitted. “Most of the time, anyway.”

“Where else would you be?”

“Hiking, backpacking, camping in the mountains.”

“Isn’t that dangerous, to do that by yourself? Aren’t you supposed to always go with a buddy? At least, this article I read-”

“When I go for more than a day, it’s almost always with a group that I’m taking on a prearranged trip,” he explained.

“You mean, like a guide?”

“Exactly.” He spotted a towel on the counter and he pointed to it. “Can I use that to dry this stuff?”

“Sure.” She nodded. “So you take people on camping trips?”

“And hiking and backpacking through the mountains, sometimes the state parks.” He picked up the towel and began to dry the measuring spoons. “Sometimes it’s a day hike, sometimes it’s for several days. Depends on what type of experience they want. Sometimes it’s part of their package at one of the nearby resorts or lodges. When things get slow, I advertise in outdoor magazines, and on the Internet, but I’ve only had to do that twice.”

“How did you get into that?”

“When I moved out to Montana, I spent a lot of time hiking on my own at first, to become better acquainted with the area around the house. I graduated to backpacking because I wanted to do longer hikes, then I wanted to try an overnight. As you mentioned, camping alone can be dicey, especially in areas where there are a lot of bears. But after a while, I got bored being off by myself all the time. I’d be walking along and I’d see something… maybe an eagle swooping down, or a stand of trees that had turned a brilliant color, maybe a bighorn sheep. You know, the sort of thing that makes you turn to someone else and say, ‘Hey, look at that!’ Not so much fun when there’s no one else around. So I joined a hiking club and went out with them and a guide a couple of times. Since I was thinking about staying in Montana awhile, I looked into becoming a guide myself. I took some courses at a wilderness training center, then I took a few more. I stopped in at the lodges and a couple of resorts in my part of the state, talked to the managers, gave out my cards.”

“How often do you take people out?”

“A couple of times a month in good weather.” He grinned wryly. “Not so often in the winter, unless it’s a really experienced group, I know the terrain really well, and there are no storms forecasted for that week but that’s really rare.”

She sat on one of the chairs and rubbed the small of her back with her hand. “Wait. Do people pay you to take them into the mountains?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

“Does Mia know about this?” Vanessa looked puzzled. “Because to hear her tell it, you never leave your house and you go for weeks without talking to anyone, and you don’t work.”

He laughed out loud. “Mia has never asked me if I have a job. She assumes that I don’t, so I haven’t brought it up. If she ever asked, I’d be happy to tell her. But she doesn’t ask. She has this image of me as a tragic loner, so I just let her hold on to that pitiful picture.”

“That is just flat-out evil.” Vanessa’s eyes narrowed but there was a glint of humor there. “Your sister’s worried about you and the solitary life she thinks you’re living. She believes that you hole up in that house and only occasionally venture out into the hills with no companion other than a horse.”

“My sister is going to have to learn not to assume.” He paused. “You’re not going to tell her, right?”

“She’s my friend. Come Saturday, she’ll be family.”

“Well, then, let’s just consider this a family secret for the time being.”

The oven timer went off, and Vanessa appeared to be thinking while she took one tray out and put the latest one in.

“Doesn’t it bother you to know that your entire family thinks you’re a pathetic recluse?” she asked.

“My entire family doesn’t. Only Mia.”

“You mean everyone else knows?”

He nodded.

“Even more evil than I thought.” She laughed. “But all right. Your secret is safe with me. Of course, it will cost you.”

“What’s the price of your silence?”

“Why, I don’t know.” She tilted her head, as if thinking. “Certainly I couldn’t be expected to squander an opportunity like this on something trivial. I’ll have to give it some serious thought.” She nodded solemnly. “Oh, yes. This needs to be good. I’m going to have to get back to you.”

“Take your time,” he told her. “I’ll be around for a few more days.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“I’m always hungry.” He started to glance around at the stacks of cookies.

“Uh-uh,” she warned him. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What did you have in mind?”

She went to the refrigerator and opened it. “I have soup. And corn bread.”

“What kind of soup?”

“Chicken rice and cream of broccoli.”

“Either is fine.”

“Really?” She looked over the top of the door at him. “I’d have expected you to shy away from the broccoli.”

“I don’t shy away from much.”

“Great.” She took a container out of the fridge. “We’ll have the chicken.”

She moved the cookie trays from the stove top and found a pan into which she spooned the soup. While it heated she cleaned off a spot at the table and set two places. Grady sniffed the air and looked into the pan, where chunks of chicken were warming in a fragrant yellow broth thick with rice.

“This smells homemade,” he observed.

“You get points for that,” she told him.

He shrugged. “Do I lose points if I admitted I sometimes make soup for myself at home?”

“Actually, that would earn extra extra points. I think it’s great when a guy can make stuff. It says a lot about him.”

“Like what?”

“Like, he can take care of himself. Guys who can’t do for themselves…” She made the thumbs-down sign. “And it says that he’s not hung up on some macho image of himself.” She smiled. “Too mucho macho…” Another thumbs-down. “Besides, a guy who can make his own soup will never have to depend on a woman-or worse, wait for a woman to do it for him, and that is very liberating, as far as I’m concerned. I really like a guy who does things for himself.”

“I feel the need to confess I only know how to make two kinds of soup.”

“Which two?”

“Potato, and beef with vegetables.”

“Good ones. Nothing to be ashamed about there.” The soup began to boil and she turned down the heat. “Seriously. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, but you should know that liberating someone else never entered my mind. Winters are harsh where I live. You can be snowed in for a long time. There was a clear choice between learning how to cook and starving to death.”

“Whatever the reason, I like it.” She brought the pan over to the table and spooned soup into the bowls. “I’ve known too many men who expected women to do everything for them. From my stepfathers right down to my…”

She paused. “Well, let’s just leave it at that.” She placed the pan back on the stove, then returned to the table with a plate of corn-bread squares and sat across from Grady. “Did you teach yourself to cook after you went to Montana?”