Page 12 of Mountain Shadow

She picked up her dirty, wet clothes and walked out into the large living area. It was a beautiful, impressive space—as masculine as the man standing in front of her.

“I’m okay. I was just … getting dressed.” She looked down at herself, suddenly embarrassed by the clownish outfit. Jens’s eyes flared for a moment with something she could have sworn was desire.

For me? Dressed in this?

By the time the thought crossed her brain, his expression was neutral again.

“Are you feeling better? I warmed a cup of soup for you. I don’t have any tea,” he apologized.

She walked over to the large wooden dining table, made from the same color wood as the bookshelves. It looked like it would seat eight people comfortably.

“Do you … have a large family?” she asked, picking up the steaming mug. There were no toys or signs of children around, and no sign of a woman’s presence, but that didn’t mean anything.

“I live alone. I have a large family—my parents, two sisters and one brother, but they all live in Germany. If you’re wondering about the table, I built it with some leftover wood after building the bookshelves.”

Sarah blew gently into the soup, not wanting to burn her mouth.

“You built these shelves?” she asked, walking around to that side of the room. The entire wall of the chalet was covered with books. She saw quickly that they weren’t arranged by shape or size or color, or any of those sorting strategies that were so popular nowadays and that always left her scratching her head. There was a differentiated non-fiction area, with a large section of books on mountains. Then fiction, with novels in at least three different languages—German, French and English. The different sections were separated from each other with large, almost playful-looking brass book-ends.

A horse’s head.

A globe.

A pair of flamingos.

A leaning elephant.

A goat.

She looked up at Jens in surprise.

“Yeah, my siblings have a sense of humor. They get me a couple of these every Christmas.”

Sarah nodded and took a sip of the soup. It was hot and comforting and felt glorious going into her empty stomach. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she rubbed them away angrily.

Jens pulled out a chair for her. “Please take a seat. I’m boiling some pasta—it’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Sarah sat down, still grasping the warm mug.

He approached her almost cautiously. In his hand, he carried a small black bag.

“What’s that?” she asked cautiously. She wasn’t afraid of him. He’d had ample opportunity to hurt her, and had shown her nothing but concern and respect.

“I’d like to take your blood pressure, if that’s okay.”

She looked at him uncertainly.

“I’m a doctor,” he said, pulling at the cuff’s velcro.

She felt herself tense for a moment. “A doctor? You said you work with Damien.”

He leaned back, giving her space. “My specialty is emergency medicine. I’m a Search & Rescue medical doctor. And I swear on my life I’m not going to hurt you, Sarah.”

Her lip curled up in a small smile. “I know that. I feel that. I’m sorry. I’m just finding it hard to trust anyone right now.” She offered her arm to him.

Jens nodded, expertly wrapping the cuff around her arm above her elbow. The band tightened to a point where it was almost painful, then deflated again. She looked up at the man holding it questioningly. “13/8. A bit high, but not altogether unexpected, given recent events.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said, lowering the sleeve of the oversize T-shirt again. It dropped almost to her elbow.