Page 25 of Mountain Shadow

At her worried look, he shook himself. “Don’t worry. He’ll end up making a mistake. In the meantime, you’re safe here, Sarah,” he said. “Come on, will you help me cook dinner?”

She nodded. “What are we making?”

“Frittata and salad.”

“Frittata? What’s that?” She closed her eyes, as if trying to recall a memory. “Some kind of quiche?”

“Like a quiche, but without the crust.”

“Not sure I’ll be able to help much with that, but I’m a master salad maker, if I say so myself.”

They set out twin cutting boards along the counter and started chopping up the fresh ingredients.

“So,” she said, looking up from her chopped up bell pepper. “When did you learn to cook?”

“I’d love to be able to say I learned from my parents, but they’d be the first to tell you they’re dreadful cooks. I think my siblings and I ate the same ten dishes on repeat for years.”

“If your siblings are anything like you, I don’t think you should be complaining too loudly. It looks like you got enough protein,” Sarah laughed.

He nodded. “That we did. German cooking is all about the staples. Meat, potatoes, more meat, more potatoes.”

“You said you have one brother and … two sisters?”

“Yes. My brother is the oldest, and my sisters are younger.”

“And they all live in Germany?”

Jens nodded. He grabbed a bowl and began cracking eggs into it. “They all live less than ten minutes away from my parents. My whole family is close. That’s why my parents found it hard when I was living abroad.”

“Is that why you left the Army?” Sarah asked.

As he whisked the cheese into the egg mixture, Jens found himself opening up to her. “I used to come see them whenever I had leave. Then my father had a heart attack. I was on a mission, and they couldn’t reach me for a week. He’s fine,” he added quickly. “But it could have gone either way. When I finally went home to see them, my father and I sat together and he asked me to come home. It was the first time in his life that he asked me for anything. And he didn’t even ask for himself, you know? He was asking for my mom. Though she’d never said anything, she’d been scared to open the door ever since I joined the Special Forces—always worried it’d be someone to tell her I was dead. I decided to quit then and there.”

Jens poured the egg and cheese mix over the vegetables Sarah had prepared, then stirred the entire thing into a pan.

“Did you always know you would join the Army?” she asked.

“No. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I’d always known I wanted to be a doctor. But my girlfriend, who was also studying medicine, wanted us to join Doctors Without Borders. That was the plan—until she fell ill. She was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and died that same spring. She was twenty-one years old.”

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. Her forehead crinkled. “That must have been tough for you.”

“It was,” he acknowledged. It struck him that this was the first time he spoke of Lena’s death without feeling a shudder run through him. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to join Doctors Without Borders without Lena. But I also couldn’t stay home and be coddled by my family, either.”

He placed the pan in the oven and set the timer for eighteen minutes. “There we go. Now we wait.”

Sarah opened a bottle of wine and served them each a glass.

“And then, after you left the Army, you came to Chamonix,” she said.

“I wanted to put my skills to good use, and the Chamonix Search & Rescue team seemed like a great opportunity.”

“It’s still a dangerous job,” Sarah piped up.

“Less dangerous than what I used to do, and I’m just a few hours’ drive from my parents. I don’t think I’d want to do anything else.”

“That’s good, that you found something you love.”

“How about you?”