“How do you know all this stuff?” Sophie asked, looking up from her book. “I mean, is it all from your job or . . .”
“My mom,” I told her. “She taught me a lot about nature and the ways of her people before she died.”
“And you remembered it all?”
“More or less. It helps that I’ve had to use the knowledge she gave me over the years through my work. There are things I’ve forgotten, but there’s a lot I remember too.”
The stairs creaked as Elle came down, something draped over her shoulder. “Finished,” she said victoriously.
“With what?” Thea asked.
Elle grinned, pleased with herself, and held out a net of black string. “For fishing, catching, trapping, strapping, lugging . . .” She appraised one knot in her net more closely and shrugged. “Not too shabby for my first time.”
“I was wondering what you were doing up there,” I said and stood up, taking the net from her. It was taut and lightweight. It would be light enough to put in one of our packs in case of an emergency.
“I want to make one!” Thea chirped.
“Yeah, this is great.”
The corner of Elle’s mouth lifted, along with an amused eyebrow. “You should see my pile of practice knots.”
Thea giggled and Elle winked at her.
I liked it when Elle winked; I liked it when she smiled. It reminded me that not everything was always so bad, which I forgot sometimes.
Beau came over and analyzed it, giving it a once over and nodded in approval. “It looks pretty good,” he said. “You definitely got better at it.”
She pushes his shoulder playful. “Thanks, bud. It was a lot of effort. Now, I’m starving.” She looked around the room. “Anyone else want lunch?”
Sophie stood, closing her field guide.
“I’ll help!” Thea shouted and zoomed past Sophie, knocking her off her feet.
She stumbled, and I reached for her arm. “Careful—” The moment I touch her, she shrank away, and I let go. Sophie took a faltering step back and her wide eyes shimmered.
“Are you okay?” I asked, worried I’d grabbed her too tightly.
Her cheeks glowed red cheeks and her gaze darted away.
“Are you okay, Soph?”
She took a step back. “Please . . . don’t touch me.” She looked fearful and brokenhearted and I felt a rage I hadn’t felt before, a protective dreadful rage. Someone had hurt her before, and I had frightened her.
I nodded, uncertain what else to do. “I’m sorry.”
She tugged down the hem of her shirt, tucked her hair behind her ear, and disappeared into the kitchen.
I fell back into my seat, my heart thudding and my hands clenching. For the first time, I was grateful so many people were dead; the chances were good that the bastard was one of them.
Chapter 27
Jackson
I looked down at my chicken scratch.
Recalculate fuel supply.
Sat phone battery replacement.
Check solar warehouse for generator parts.
Replacement snowmobile clutch pack.
AA, D Battery stock for scanner and CB.
I scan the list, trying to remember what else I wanted to get done before we got back on the road.
Rifle for Alex.
I picked up the hardwood bolt-action rifle from the worktable, appreciating the weight in my hand. It was lighter than a shotgun, perfect for hunting, and with the strap would be easy enough to carry wherever he went. It would become an extension of him easily enough.
The workshop was thick with the sharp scent of gun cleaner and lubricant, but it was familiar and grounded me to my past life that was slipping away from me each day.
Loyalty. Integrity. Courage. A credence I’d followed as a State Trooper for nearly eight years; I’d thought about it every morning when I tugged on my boots and readied myself for the day. I still did.
The new world was a savage place and Alex was ready for his own gun. He’d proven that much in the last few months. Elle could handle plenty, but there was no reason she should be the only one capable of protecting them. When Alex and the others went to Hartley, he’d need the means to protect them if he had to. With the ice melting, predators were on the move, hungry and hunting, but it was the human variable I was most worried about.
I set the rifle down and glanced out the window. The sun sank behind the white-capped mountains in the east, and I could feel the onslaught of cold. Hell, the whole place was cold, but sunless cold was a beast of its own.
I grabbed the handheld radio off the worktable, already programmed on channel seven. When there was no sign of Ross, I scanned the other channels, waiting for the static to fade and his familiar voice to come over the airwaves. There was only static.
“Fucking Ross.” I shook my head. Where the hell was he? He was a State Trooper in one of the darkest, coldest, most dangerous cities in the United States, a damn Eagle Scout, for God’s sake, and the only family I had left. I refused to believe he was dead. Yet the relief I’d felt seeing him alive was a distant memory, and I struggled to hold on to it.
I turned off the generator and charging cradle, double checked the ammunition and weapons were locked away from our afternoon target practice, and made my way for the door, pulling my woolen collar up to my ears. Slinging my rifle over my shoulder, I headed for the house.
I ran my hands over my face, feeling the effects of eight days without a drink. The past five months hadn’t been a completely drunken blur, but I’d definitely had my moments. And it was hard not to crave the numbness that dull my mind when it was too restless for its own good.
I peered down the road and into the horizon, looking for movement as I neared the house. It was easy to notice things that didn’t belong. There were only six of us. Slana was a ghost town—a crypt and wasteland of lives frozen in time.
When I reached the house, I stopped outside the front door. I did my best to be the man I knew Elle, and the kids needed, but sometimes it was just too damn hard, and I needed space to breathe.
The door opened and Sophie stepped out. “Oh, hey,” she said.
“Hey Sophie.”
She seemed distracted as she dumped a bucket of dirty water into the snow, more withdrawn than she had been the past few months. Maybe it was a teenager thing, or hormonal. Or maybe she wasn’t bouncing back from what happened in Whitely like Beau and Thea seemed to, even Alex for that matter, though his situation was much different.
She glanced at me with a weak smile. “Perfect timing. Dinner is just about ready.”
“After you.” I gestured to the steps.
Her strawberry blonde hair fell straight against her back as I followed her into the house. Garlic and something sweet hit my nose, and the sound of children laughing in the kitchen and the generator rumbling in the garage filled the house. We used the generators minimally and only during the day so we could see people coming if they heard our generator. After dark was a crapshoot and not worth the risk of being ambushed.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m almost done.”
I wasn’t worried about Sophie. She was good about keeping an eye on the sun, having seen first had what sort of people might stumble across us.
I divested my snow clothes and hung them on the coat rack.
“You’re in for a treat,” she said over her shoulder. “Elle and I made something special tonight, for Alex.”
“Should I be afraid?” I joked. Elle in the kitchen had resulted in a few questionable meals.
“Don’t worry,” Sophie said flashing me a real smile. “I did most of the work.”
The kids chirped and bickered in the dining room.
“Okay, time to play the giraffe game why we finish getting everything ready for dinner,” Elle said. “Get in your seats.”
“What’s the giraffe game?” Beau asked.
“Yeah,” Thea echoed. “What’s the giraffe game?”
“Well, think abo
ut it for a minute,” Elle winked at me as I walked in. “What sounds do giraffes make?”
The room fell silent as Sophie and I stepped inside. The kids sat quiet and thoughtful in their chairs.
Elle hustled around the kitchen, grabbing pot holders and blowing a loose strand of hair from her face. She set a casserole on the table, and her green eyes flashed to mine. “You’re just in time.”
I glanced at the silent children and nodded with appreciation.
“Sophie, what sounds does a giraffe make?” Beau asked. His brow furrowed deep with thought.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But you’ll figure it out.”
I stopped beside Elle, curious myself. “What sound do they make?” I whispered.
She shrugged. “I have no idea, but I figured it would keep them occupied for a few minutes at least.” She smiled, her full lips exposing white teeth. I liked Elle’s smile.
“Aren’t you clever,” I muttered and washed my hands in the wash bucket. The water was beyond cold, nearly freezing, so I lathered them up, dipped, and dried them as quickly.
Elle winked at me and took the silverware to the table. Thea tried to hand her something, but Elle’s hands were full.
Thea climbed out of her chair and came over her hand outstretched. She offered me a mangled Band-Aid wrapper with a cartoon character on it. “I can’t open this,” she said. Her big, brown eyes were expectant, and my heart squeezed as the past crept into my memories. “Can you help me, please, Jackson?”
I cleared my throat and took the wrapper, tiny in my hands, and peeled it open. Then, Thea held up her middle finger. “I have an owie.”
It was the smallest prick of red, I could barely see it. “What happened?”
“I was getting kenneling with Beau and got a splinner.”
“A splinter? Well, did you already get it out?”
She shrugged.
“Maybe you should get it out before you put a bandage on it.” I glanced at Elle, knowing she was better at those things than I was.
“There are tweezers in the bathroom,” she said, her eyes glinting with amusement. “In the medicine cabinet.”
“Will you get it out for me?”
I looked down at Thea’s freckled cheeks, rosy with warmth. She was a cute kid, I’d give her that. Pushing my discomfort aside, I nodded to bathroom. “Let’s do it quick. It’s time for dinner.”
“Okay.” She took my hand in hers and I nearly stumbled. It was small and precious, and she squeezed my fingers as she peered up at me.
I nodded to the bathroom.
“We need the flashlight,” I told her. “So I can see better.”
Thea pulled a small one from her belt. “We can use mine,” she said, taking her hand from mine so she could click it on.
“You have a tool belt?” I hadn’t noticed it underneath her oversized sweater, or maybe I hadn’t noticed it because until recently, I didn’t care to notice things.
Thea inclined her chin absently, studying her finger.
That was what life had become for a six-year-old kid, utility belts with survival tools so we could go about our normal day.
“It’s the perfect size for you,” I mused. “Where did you find it?”
“Elle got it for me at the tool store.”
I grabbed the tweezers from the medicine cabinet and sat down on the toilet lid, closer to Thea’s height. “Does your brother have a tool belt too?”
“Yep. We have the same one, but he hides dog treats in his. I don’t do that.”
“Really?” I lifted her finger closer and looked for the tiny splinter in the middle of a tiny red dot. “Why does he have dog treats?”
“In case the wolves come closer,” she said.
I stilled, her little fingers in my hand. “You stay away from those wolves, Thea. Both of you. Okay?”
She blinked at me then nodded, hesitant.
I plucked the splinter out on the third try, earning an “ouch” but I didn’t have time to apologize before she pressed hurt finger against my lips. “Will you kiss it?”
I blinked. I must have done something resembling a kiss. She grinned happily, shouting a thank you as she skipped out of the bathroom, taking the light with her. I blinked again, took a deep breath and put the tweezers away. Kids were a whirlwind. No wonder Elle was so busy all the time.
Clearing my throat, I followed her into the dining room where she joined her brother at the table.
Elle stood at the end, tearing open the bandage for Thea. Elle glanced at me, smiling. “I didn’t know you had medical skills,” she teased and put the Band-Aid on Thea’s finger.
“Thank you,” Thea chirped and settled into her seat.
“Well, we had a lot of splinters in the field,” I told her.
“I bet you did.” With a sigh, Elle surveyed the table. “Beau, will you do the honors, please?” She handed him a lighter. It was a grown-up task he took seriously and leaned forward, carefully lighting the tapers in the table’s center.
“Did you see giraffes when you were a wildlife Trooper?” Thea asked. “Do you know what sounds they make?”
“No, no giraffes,” I told her. “Mostly bears and moose.”
“There aren’t giraffes in Alaska, stupid,” Beau said, holding his mouth just right as he lit the last candle.
“We’re not using that word, Beau, remember?” Elle said.
“Sorry, Thea,” he said and sat back down in his chair.
“Good job, Beau,” Elle added.
“It looks like you’ve outdone yourself tonight, Elle,” I told her, eyeing the dressings on the table: a vegetable melody, a basket of garlic bread, a casserole baked golden-brown, yams, and even a pecan pie. She set crystal goblets out, even [H67]for the kids, making the table sparkle in the candlelight.
“It’s all about the frozen section,” Elle said, playing off her hard work. She’d put a lot of effort into the dinner, that much was obvious. “Alex told me about a casserole recipe his grandma used to make—” she paused. “I want tonight to be special for him . . . I just hope we did the casserole justice.” She eyed the casserole skeptically.
“It looks amazing.”
“It will be perfect,” Sophie said, playing a clutch of napkins on the table.
Elle pulled her chair out from the table and nodded for me to sit down in mine. “I figured there’s no sense in rationing it anymore, not if we’re leaving soon. We can’t take it all with us.”
Alex came out of the walk-in pantry. “I found some,” he said, lifting up two dusty bottles.
“What is it?” Thea asked.
“Sparkling cider. I had it once when I was a kid. I think it was at Thanksgiving or something.” Alex didn’t talk about his foster families all that much, but he could boost cars, had the best street smarts of any kid I’d met, and he was always thanking me for teaching him how to do something, even simple like how to build a proper fire or keep a gun from freezing. It wasn’t a difficult stretch to assume his childhood was unstable even if he never talked about it.
“Sparkling?” Thea said with awe. “Like soda pop? Can I have some?”
“It’s better than soda, and I’ll pour,” I told them, unscrewing the cap.
“Oh, the wine!” Elle chirped. She rose from the table, returning seconds later with a fancy labeled bottle, already open. “I figured we could have a big kid drink tonight,” she said, smiling at me.
As much as I wanted to make the night perfect and her happy, I shook my head. “Not for me, thanks.”
Her smile faltered. “I’m so sorry. I—I wasn’t thinking.”[LL68]
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m not much for wine, anyway.” I stood up and grabbed the bottle. I didn’t want it getting weird, not tonight when she wanted it to be so special. “Here . . . Allow me.” I poured a glass for her and looked at Alex and Sophie. They stared at me. “I’m not a cop anyway, and it’s not like you will sneak out of the house and go to a rager,” I pointed out. Wit
h a smirk, Alex shook his head.
Once everyone had a glass of something, Sophie lifted her fancy goblet. “To Alex,” she said. “A great partner in crime and . . .” Her light-hearted words heavied. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” She breathed the last part, her thoughts wandering to darker times.
Alex nudged her arm with his elbow, smiling bashfully, but Sophie frowned and leaned away from him. “Please don’t touch me,” she breathed, almost desperate.
I looked at Elle.
“Sorry,” Alex said and took a drink of water.
Sophie forced a smile. “Sorry. I was moving boxes in the shed yesterday, looking for my other jacket, when they fell. My arms just a little sore.”
“Do you want me to look at it?” Elle asked.
“No, I’m fine. I just forgot it was there.” She looked at Alex. “Sorry if that was rude.”
Alex shook his head. “It’s fine.”
I lifted my glass to shift gears before Alex could think too much about it. “To Alex,” I said. “The best assistant I could ask for.”
“Yeah, Alex!” Thea cheered.
Elle and the rest of them chimed in. She glanced at me as she took a sip of wine, gratitude in her green eyes.
Chapter 28
Elle
We watched the Northern Lights sailing across the sky, our marshmallows toasting in the hot flames of the campfire. It was nice to enjoy one of the few harmless Alaskan wonders. It almost felt like things were normal, or as normal as they could be.
Sophie stared into the flames, watching them dance. I wanted to ask her about tonight at the dinner table and what was going on, but we hadn’t had a minute alone. Something was wrong, we all knew it, and it had gotten worse. It wasn’t the two kids or the branded troublemaker [LL69]I worried about, but Sophie.
Her gaze met mine across the fire and she straightened in her Adirondack. “I’m getting tired, Thea. Are you ready for bed?”
Thea licked the chocolate off her fingers and shook her head as she sat back in her seat, yawning. “No.”
Beau was already curled up in his chair next to Alex, trying and failing to stay up past his bedtime with the rest of us. And Jackson . . . I peered around at the darkness and then at the backdoor. I wasn’t sure where he’d run off to.
The Darkest Winter Page 15
