Interrupted Solitude

By Darryl Matter

Christian fiction: "Matt" Davis sought solitude in the mountains--seeking to escape the hurt of his girlfriend's death. Then he's called upon by the sheriff to search for a plane that may have crashed near his remote cabin. The sheriff's daughter is on that plane. Thanks to Matt, she survives. Can Matt find love again? Can he place his faith in God, as his new friends encourage him to do?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darryl Matter
• Release date: Aug 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463132678

Darryl Matter

Hello,I'm an ancient, long-retired college professor who likes to write stories. My educational background is somewhat varied. I first earned a B.S. Degree in Mechanical Engineering with a Management Option. The industrial management and psychology classes interested me in human behavior, and I eventually earned a Ph.D. in Human Development. In addition to writing stories, my interests include reading and stamp collecting.I grew up in a rural Kansas community, and I now live with my wife in a retirement community. I appreciate each of my readers, and I thank you for reading my stories. Furthermore, I encourage each of you to write something of interest to you and then publish it--to share with the world.Being the antique person that I am, the tech-side of publishing doesn't come easily to me and I appreciate the support staff at Smashwords.Again thank you for your interest in my stories.Sincerely,Darryl Matter

Book preview

Interrupted Solitude

Christian Fiction by Darryl Matter

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019 by Darryl Matter

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Interrupted Solitude

This is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 1

The snow that started late last night was continuing into the morning. It was rapidly developing into a major winter storm, intensifying by the hour, and was predicted to last for several days. Matthew Matt Davis watched the snow from the window of his cabin as he prepared and ate an unhurried breakfast, watched the snow begin to pile up into drifts that would completely isolate him in his remote cabin. He wistfully welcomed the isolation the storm would bring, insulating him even further from the world of hurt he’d sought to escape by coming here to the high mountains.

He had rebuilt a part of the old cabin that existed on the remote mountain property he’d purchased, rebuilt it last summer into a snug, well-insulated sanctuary against the outside world–a world he wanted absolutely nothing to do with now that Allene was gone. Had it really been all of two years since she’d died. It wasn’t a question. Matt knew exactly when she’d died. To the very minute. The tragedy of her death was firmly etched in his mind.

The plain truth was that Matt hadn’t much wanted to go on living himself after Allene died. If it hadn’t been for his former commanding officer and several friends who’d taken exceptionally compassionate care of him, he well might have taken his own life. So, here it was two years after her death, and he was alive. Even so, his life hadn’t been the same since she’d been taken away from him, and he had sought shelter from the hurt in his heart in this remote mountain cabin.

Twice now, Christmas and New Years Day had been especially hard times for Matt, but he’d made it through the holidays both times without Allene or any other companionship, except for his memories. Yes, if he could make it through those times of the year by himself, Matt knew that he could make it through anything. He didn’t need or want a thing from anyone. He could make it on his own. He'd take what life had given him and . . . .

DING! DING! DING! . . . DING! DING! DING! . . . DING! DING! DING!

The insistent ringing of Matt’s cell phone interrupted the peacefulness of the cabin in the midst of that powerful winter snowstorm. Because of his intense dislike for even having the phone, in a perverse moment he’d adjusted the ring tone to be jarring and very loud. Obnoxious, really! Matt hated that sound.

DING! DING! DING! . . . DING! DING! DING!

Only one person had his telephone number.

Matt really had not wanted a telephone, had not wanted any contact with the world beyond his cabin, but Sheriff Bill Clanin had insisted that he have one. And Bill Clanin was the only one who knew his phone number.

It was while Matt was rebuilding the old cabin that the sheriff had stopped by. I want you to have a phone, the sheriff had insisted, because I just might need your help one of these days, and that just might be the only way that I could get in touch with you.

Matt had just looked at him incredulously. "You might need my help?" he questioned.

I checked you out, Matt, Bill Clanin responded calmly, a wry smile flickering across his rugged face, because I like knowing who’s moving into my neck of the woods. I even talked to your former commanding officer, Colonel Stoeber. Found out that you were one of the best of the Army Rangers he’d ever commanded. Said you’d served in some of the most dangerous trouble spots in today’s world and that you wouldn’t have any trouble living by yourself in these mountains, not after your experiences in the mountains of Afghanistan. He also said you wouldn’t give me any trouble.

Matt sighed and shook his head in disbelief. He’d planned to come out here by himself and remain anonymous. Anonymous and alone, with his few happy memories. Now here was this nosy sheriff . . . .

I also asked him what you were doing way out here by yourself, the sheriff continued, and he wouldn’t tell me much. Said you’d had a terrible personal hurt just after you left the service, but he said it was your business, that it didn’t concern me or anyone else, and that he wasn’t about to discuss it with anyone. Said he reckoned that you wanted to be left alone for the time being, and that he could understand that, knowing what you’d been through. Even so, like I said, I’d like to be able to get in touch with you if and when I need you. The sheriff emphasized the last four words, when I need you, as if he knew he would.

Matt hadn’t given in very easily, but the sheriff had continued to drop in on him and insist that he have a telephone. So Matt had reluctantly obliged the sheriff by getting a cell phone and that cell phone now was ringing loud and impatiently: Hello, he hesitantly answered.

The sheriff wasn’t given to small talk. Matt. Bill Clanin here, he began, I’m . . . I’m hoping you’ll . . . you’ll do me a favor . . . a big favor.

What was going on? Big Bill as people called the usually self-assured and straight-spoken sheriff was almost stammering. What’s up, Bill?

Some . . . Some ham operator out west of here got a faint distress signal from a small airplane about twenty minutes ago and called me. The sheriff’s voice was stronger now.

Yeah? What’s going on?

I’ve checked things out, Matt. The plane’s flight path should have taken it right over your cabin less than ten minutes ago. Have you . . . Have you seen or heard anything of it? Engine noise or . . . or anything?

No, Matt replied, after a moment's thought, but the snow might have muffled the engine noise so that I couldn’t hear it.

The sheriff ignored Matt’s comment. I’m looking at my map. If you didn’t hear anything, that . . . that means it’s . . . it’s probably . . . probably down somewhere to the west of you.

Maybe so, or maybe I just didn’t hear it go over, Matt reasoned. Were there any further distress signals?

There was. There was a second distress call, but it . . . it was garbled and weak and . . . and nobody got a proper fix on it.

I see. And?

Matt, I . . . I don’t like to ask this, not in this weather, but . . . but is there any way you could . . . could go take a look? See if you could see anything . . . of it? Of the airplane?

Matt though for a moment before answering, visualizing the mountainous area to the west of his cabin. There’s a whole lot of rugged and uninhabited territory out west of me, Bill, he responded. Miles and miles and miles. You know that.

I . . . I know that, Matt, but there’s no way . . . no way we could . . . could get a search going on out there, not . . . in . . . not in this weather. The sheriff seemed almost in tears. Something about that missing airplane seemed to be especially concerning him.

Matt didn’t ask any more questions. Okay. I’ll try to hike over to the ridge to the west of my cabin. If I can get up there, I’ll have a good vantage point to look over the terrain to the west. But Bill, let’s be honest, in this weather I can’t see all that much and--

I . . . I know, I know, the sheriff interrupted, but . . . but thanks for . . . for whatever you can do. And Matt?

Yes?

At the rate the snow’s coming down, the . . . the plane will soon be . . . will soon be . . . be buried . . . if it's down. Anxiety distorted the urgency in the sheriff’s voice as he urged Matt to hurry.

Okay. I’ll do my best, Bill. That’s all I can promise.

The sheriff sighed. Thanks, Matt. Good luck.

Wait a minute. Who’s in the plane? Matt asked.

There’s two . . . of ‘em. The man’s name is . . . is Cameron. He’s the . . . the pilot. It’s his plane. The woman’s name is Kimberli.

Okay. Cameron and Kimberli, right? Matt repeated the names to be sure he had understood them correctly.

Right.

I’ll get going and give you a call if I spot anything, Matt promised. He wasn’t at all sure he would be able to spot anything given the poor visibility, but he’d give it his best shot.

Getting out into the snowstorm didn’t concern Matt. As the sheriff already knew, he’d spent a lot of time in the high mountains of Afghanistan and a couple of other mountainous trouble spots as well. Still, when he was in the service he’d had all the necessary equipment and support he needed to do his job. Here he’d be on his own.

He was, of course, somewhat familiar with the mountains surrounding his cabin. Last summer and fall he’d explored them for some distance in each direction. And he did have a good handheld Global Positioning System unit with the Wide Area Augmentation System. That GPS/WAAS unit and his binoculars were all he had, however, that might help in locating a downed aircraft and getting a rescue team in to pick up any survivors.

At any rate, he’d do his best to find that airplane and do what he could for the people aboard, not only because it seemed to mean so much to Bill Clanin but because those people didn’t deserve to die if Matt could help them. And they would die if they were simply abandoned in these mountains. If the crash hadn't killed them, the freezing cold soon would.

Within minutes of his conversation with the sheriff, Matt had pulled on his insulated coveralls, boots, jacket, cap, and gloves, then strapped on his backpack. His backpack contained a first aid kit and some other supplies he might need if he were able to locate that plane and if anyone was still alive. Enough snow had accumulated for Matt to use his snowshoes. He put them on his boots, checked his gear one last time, and he was ready to go.

Matt could just make out the rocky mountain ridge behind his cabin through the falling snow. He checked his GPS unit, pulled his cap down further onto his head, and set out to the west, toward that ridge.

As he began to climb toward that ridge, he could scarcely make out some of his familiar landmarks through the snow. Far to his right was the stream where he panned for gold last summer. It would be frozen over now. Frozen solid, most likely. And there a ways to his left was the clearing where some pioneer’s cabin once stood, maybe a hundred years ago or, more likely, more. A few of the stones that once served for the cabin’s foundation and walls were still there.

Matt had found a couple of old, well-worn silver dimes in that clearing after a heavy rain had washed away some of the soil and debris. The dates on those dimes were scarcely visible, but he made them out using a magnifying glass. One was dated 1876 and the other 1887. There just might be more coins around there.

Serious coin collectors preferred better, less worn coins, of course, but these finds were interesting to Matt, nonetheless. At any rate, he planned to search that area where the cabin once stood with his metal detector for additional coins and artifacts as soon as the weather permitted. Matt loved searching for hidden treasure, and he had found several ancient coins and a little gold over the years. At the very least, the treasure hunting temporarily kept his mind off Allene.

On a normal day, Matt could reach that mountain ridge in half an hour if he really hurried. Today, though, it took him almost an hour. He was in good physical shape, too, having developed an exercise routine of push-ups, pull-ups, and sit-ups that kept him fit, but slogging through the heavy snow took a good deal of effort and tired him more than usual. Finally, however, he reached the ridge and began to search the mountain range from that vantage point with his binoculars.

Over there! Yes! There! To Matt’s left. Something, a piece of painted metal, perhaps, looked out of place in the deepening snow. Yes! That might or might not be the airplane, but he’d go take a look. It didn’t appear to be over a mile away. Maybe a little farther. There weren’t any other likely possibilities that he could see.

As Matt got closer to the shiny object he’d seen from the ridge, the more certain he was that it was a portion of a small airplane’s tail sticking upward through the accumulating snow. The rest of the plane was shielded from his view by thick brush as well as the snow.

The small airplane was there, all right. The pilot had somehow managed to set it down in a clearing. Even though the wings, tail section, and landing gear appeared to be badly battered from the impact of the crash, the aircraft’s cabin looked to be intact. That was good.

How the pilot managed to reach that clearing in the snowstorm was anybody’s guess. He couldn’t actually have seen the ground from above. Matt’s guess was that crash-landing there had been pure luck. Although the ground around the plane sloped downhill at a fairly good angle, Matt believed that the clearing was suitable for a helicopter to land nearby, assuming that the pilot knew what he was doing. He’d better know what he was doing if he were out in this snowstorm.

Matt made his way through some heavy brush to the pilot’s door and brushed away the accumulated snow. The door was jammed, but he managed to yank it open. Bad news. The pilot was slumped forward against the controls–obviously dead. Matt felt for a pulse and found none.

From the looks of things, the crash landing hadn’t killed him. Matt guessed that he’d had a heart attack or something like that. There was nothing Matt or anyone else could do for him now. After closing the pilot’s door, Matt made his way to the passenger’s side.

The woman was slumped back in her seat. Blood oozed down her face from a nasty cut on her forehead and for a moment Matt thought that she, too, was dead.

Kimberli? Matt called her name softly. Kimberli?

Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh! The semiconscious woman stirred and moaned softly as Matt called her name. She was alive!

Matt had his cell phone out and quickly dialed Bill Clanin’s number. I’m at the crash site, he informed the sheriff. He then summarized the situation and gave the sheriff the geographical coordinates. I’ll do what I can for the woman. You get an EMT and a helicopter in here as soon as possible, he said.

I’ll get one on the way, and I’ll patch you through to the pilot so you can direct him down, the sheriff responded.

Once assured that the helicopter was on the way, Matt turned his attention back to the woman. Kimberli? Can you hear me?

Ye . . . Yes? Her voice was faint, her teeth chattering.

Hang on, Kimberli. We’re going to get you out of here. Matt hoped he was telling her the truth.

Co . . . Cold, she whimpered. The woman obviously was shivering.

I know. We’ll try to get you warmed up a little. Of course, the woman was cold and shivering. She was wearing light gloves and a hooded jacket and was rather warmly dressed, but not dressed to survive sitting in the freezing weather out here on the mountainside. There were as yet no obvious signs of serious hypothermia that Matt could detect, but he’d try to add additional clothing around the woman if he could.

There was a hand warmer of the kind hunters carry in Matt’s backpack. He took it, shook and crushed it to activate the chemicals, and put the warmer between the woman’s hands. Although her hands were shaking, she managed to clutch it tightly with her gloved fingers. That should help warm her hands. He was sorry that he didn’t have more of those hand warmers, but then he simply wasn’t prepared to attempt rescues such as this.

Matt rummaged through the cabin, found a heavy coat in the storage space behind the seats, and wrapped it over and around the woman, tucking the sleeves around her neck. He then managed to remove the coat the pilot had been wearing and wrapped it around the woman’s feet and legs.

A metallic, reflective blanket from Matt’s backpack came next. He wrapped it over the woman and tucked it in on each side, leaving only a small part of her face exposed. It was the best he could do.

Frostbite would be a problem if they didn’t get that rescue helicopter out here soon. Maybe the additional clothing and the reflective blanket would help ward that off, and he’d cover her face and ears better as soon as he patched the cut on her head.

The cut on the woman’s head was still bleeding. It would need several stitches once she got to a hospital. Using bandages from his first-aid kit, Matt dressed the cut on her forehead as best he could to stop or at least slow the bleeding and keep the blood out of her eyes. Once the bandages were in place, he carefully wiped the accumulated blood from her swollen eyes, being as gentle as he could so as not to hurt her more. She’d have plenty of bruises, but they’d heal. Matt wouldn’t attempt to move her. The EMTs would have to check her for signs of head and spinal injuries before she was moved.

Once he’d bandaged the woman’s cut and cleaned the blood from her eyes, Matt covered her face with a wool scarf he’d found tucked into a sleeve of the heavy coat that was behind the seat, leaving only a little space around her nose for her to breathe. It was the best he could do by her. Now they’d just have to wait for the helicopter he assumed was on its way.

DING! DING! DING!

Matt answered his cell phone on the first ring-tone. The sheriff had patched him through to the helicopter pilot who was asking for confirmation of the crash-site coordinates. Moments later, Matt heard the characteristic WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! of a helicopter overhead.

Matt calmly talked the pilot down to the best landing spot. The helicopter’s whirling blades kicked up a tremendous snow cloud, and then the chopper was on the ground and two EMTs were running through the snow toward Matt and the wrecked airplane.

The EMTs sized up the situation and worked quickly and effectively. Matt had to admire their effectiveness. These guys were good. A few minutes later, both the woman and the body of the pilot were loaded into the helicopter. Matt checked the interior of the airplane and located a briefcase, two small suitcases, a camera, and the woman’s handbag. These he gave to the EMTs. His work there was finished. It was time for him to go home.

Just as Matt turned to walk away, one of the EMTs grabbed his arm. Want a ride back to town with us? he asked, motioning toward the helicopter.

Matt shook his head. No. Thanks.

You could wait out the storm in town?

Again Matt shook his head. No. You guys need to get going. Get the young woman outta here.

Well, okay. Are you sure you’ll be all right out there in this storm? The EMT waved his hand at the mountains.

Matt shrugged his shoulders. Makes no difference, he said, as he walked away from the chopper and into the falling snow. Makes absolutely no difference, he mumbled aloud to himself over and over again, absolutely no difference to anyone.

CHAPTER 2

WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!

Matt hunkered down and took what shelter he could find beside the downed airplane as the helicopter’s big rotor began to turn and churn up the snow around them. Soon the WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! faded into the distance and then went away altogether as the helicopter disappeared into the swirling snow. Matt once again was alone in the vastness of the frosty mountains.

The GPS unit map would guide him back to his cabin even if he couldn’t see his way. Although the blowing, constantly drifting snow would make travel extremely hazardous, he’d be okay, and if he wasn’t, well . . . . Matt shrugged his