Page 85 of Orphan Girl's Mountain Men

"So then we sat on him."

"You sat…?"

"We sat on him. The two of us. And waited. Well—we didn't want him to escape. And anyway, the bushes around here are pretty thorny. He was more comfortable."

I am pounding the ground.More comfortable… oh my God!

"Eventually, we heard noises of people coming down the track, so we thought we'd better hide again. Turned out it really was you this time. And… well… that's it."

What an incredible story. And what an amazing end to our adventure, We've rescued little Grace and we've captured the enemy. A perfect outcome after all. And who does the credit belong to? Hailey! What a woman.

Just then, Grace lets out a huge yawn.

"I'm tired, Daddy. Can we go home now?"

CHAPTER 33

Hailey

The journey down the mountain is uneventful. Dean and Reed lead the way, taking turns with a still-moaning Sinclair over their shoulders, though he remains wrapped up in the sleeping bag, for now at least. In the middle comes a very tired and sleepy Grace, carried in the gentle, loving arms of her daddy, Lennon. I follow at the rear with my now fairly empty rucksack.

When we reach the yard, Dean—who happens to be carrying Sinclair at this point—dumps him into the back of their truck, whilst Reed heads to the outbuilding with the carryall to clean and put away their equipment, and once he's checked on Sinclair to make sure he's secure, Dean joins him.

Meanwhile, Lennon heads inside with the by-now fast asleep Grace, and I follow suit. Lennon turns on the light switch, and we both blink rapidly after so much time in the dark. I glance at the clock on the wall—four-thirty. There is already a glow in the sky to the east. What a night.

Grace stirs as Lennon puts her down in a chair. She opens her eyes, blinks at the kitchen and says "I'm hungry, Daddy." Then she closes her eyes again, already drifting back to sleep. Lennonand I smile at each other. It's been quite a night for her—no wonder she can't stay awake, hungry or not.

"She needs to be in bed." Lennon looks up from watching her—he's hardly taken his eyes off her since they came across us in the forest, except to carry her—and nods his agreement. He picks up his little girl again, and heads towards her bedroom. I decide to stay here. Give him some one-to-one time with his daughter, I think to myself. So instead, I busy myself in the kitchen. Grace probably isn't the only one who's hungry by now. The boys are going to want to eat.

I decide on a mac and cheese—it's easy to make, they have all the ingredients, and I happen to know the boys love it. I put the oven on to heat up, and start getting out the ingredients and equipment. Soon I am immersed in making bechamel sauce and grating plenty of cheese. Within fifteen minutes, everything's ready, and I place the large dish into the oven to bake. The mix of mozzarella for texture and gruyere for flavor, combined with the panko breadcrumbs and plenty of butter on top for browning is going to be killer.

By the time Dean and Reed are done, the mac and cheese is ready. I go get Lennon from where he is sitting in Grace's room, watching her sleep, and the four of us sit down to eat.

The men all fall to, and for a few minutes there is no sound except that of forks scraping on plates and steady munching. "God, this is good." Reed gives me a 'chef's kiss' of appreciation. "Is there any more?"

"Help yourself." I pass him the dish and serving spoon, pleased to have been able to contribute in some way to the night's activities, other than by accident. "So, what happens now? What are you going to do with Sinclair?"

"Sinclair? Oh… yeah… him. I dunno. What's the plan with Sinclair, boss?"

Dean pauses between mouthfuls. "We'll have to talk to him. Find out what he knows, understand why all this is happening. Then we'll get rid of him."

I look up, startled. "Get rid of him? You don't mean?—"

"No, no, nothing like that. I mean get him off our property. Send him back to his friends."

When our very late supper is over, Dean and Reed head back outside to get Sinclair. They bring him into the kitchen, still bundled up in my sleeping bag, and shove him into a chair.

"Urgh. He doesn't smell too good." I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

"Pissed himself." Reed chimes in, cheerfully.

"I couldn't help it." Sinclair almost spits his words out, he's so incandescent with rage. "I kept asking to be let out of this fucking sleeping bag, but none of you listened. And that… that bitch there maced me. Right in my face. I'm blinded for life. I need to get to a hospital. I am going to sue every single one of you for— oomph!" Dean drives a fist into his stomach.

"Mind your manners. She ain't a bitch. In fact, she's got more balls than you'll ever have, Sinclair."

Sinclair looks up at Dean, with what can only be described as hatred in his puffy, red, streaming eyes. But there's fear there, too.

"You wanna make it outa here alive, Sinclair? 'Cos we've got two ways this can go. We got the easy way… and we got… the other way. It's a big old forest up there. Plenty of predators and scavenging animals. They'll most likely never find your body. Well… not intact, anyway. Just parts… you know, an arm, or a foot still in its boot. That what you want?"

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