by Devon McKay
After walking for about a half an hour, she came across a good place to stop, rest her ankle, and sketch a few ideas. Finding the perfect rock to sit on, she took several pictures and then began sketching. After she was satisfied she’d captured a good rendition of the birch trees, she decided it was time to move on. She still wanted to get the river and mountain range on paper.
Sam stood, then paused to take in her surroundings. Twirling in a full circle, she wasn’t sure of which direction to take. None of it appeared familiar. A curse escaped her lips as she realized her mistake. She’d delved so deep into her sketches, she couldn’t remember the way home. And without a wristwatch, she had no clue of the time.
Blake had made it seem so easy when they’d been hiking, guessing the time by judging the sun’s position. Sam glanced up at the sky. Dumbfounded by the dark spots in her vision from staring into the blinding light, she couldn’t even tell if it was still morning or after lunchtime. Her stomach responded annoyingly, growling with a persistence and reminding her the time of day didn’t really matter. She was hungry.
What had she been thinking? After barely a couple of weeks in Alaska, she was an expert on hiking through the woods? Her gaze was drawn to an opening in the greenery of the forest. It was certainly the trail, but was it the right direction?
Eagerly, she hurried over to the path and peered into the thick woods. There was a channel, not well worn, but a trail all the same. Confirming this, she noted a few broken sprigs of grass and branches and decided it had to be the way home.
After about twenty minutes, Sam lost sight of the trail and the dense, dark foliage closed in on her. She turned around several times, trying to decide which route to take, but between the white camouflaged bark on the army of birch trees and the deep green of the spruce, it all appeared the same.
She was lost, and there was only one person to blame.
Blake.
He should’ve never left her to her own devices.
“Damn him,” she cursed out loud, startled by a stirring in the woods behind her. Sam’s heart skipped a beat. Well, speak of the devil. Didn’t she know by now just thinking about the man made him appear?
“Blake?” she called into the forest.
She was answered by another rustle of brush. Not quite the response she’d expected from her savior. No, he would have called her name or some other smart retort.
Frozen in place, a vivid image of a bear emerged from her imagination. Another noise, followed by more breaking branches nearly made her jump out of her skin. Everything Blake taught her escaped her memory, and she did what came natural.
She ran.
Chapter 20
Ignoring the tenderness in her ankle, Sam ran like her life depended on it. At this very moment, it did. The breaking of tree limbs snapped loudly behind her. The terrifying sound narrowed in as if whatever pursuing her was somehow gaining inhuman speed. She pushed herself, determined to outrun whatever was chasing her.
Branches clawed angrily at her face, blocking her path with an unyielding resilience as if they were in cahoots with whatever was on her trail. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and spurred her onward.
Breath came in ragged spurts as her lungs strained for fresh air. The hiking boots and protesting ankle held her back. She stole a glance behind and caught a dark, blurry shadow closing in.
A bear? Her worst fear had come to life. How could she possibly outrun such a beast? Blake’s words haunted her…she wasn’t supposed to run…or was she?
Panic overcame any hope of rational thought. Only her natural instinct for survival governed the path as she weaved in and out of birch trees, their white bark a ghostly smear against the dark green spruce of the forest.
She must have run through the wilderness for miles before hearing the sound of water running to the right of her. Quartz Creek? Hadn’t Blake mentioned the natural spring was an offspring of the river?
If so, his cabin was nearby. The spark of hope urged Sam on, and she accelerated her pace. She had a chance of getting out of these woods alive. All she had to do was run along the same direction as the water was flowing. She was on Wolf’s land. Somehow, Blake would guide her.
The reassurance was short lived as she tripped on a root and her weakened ankle gave way. She flew through the air, mindful only of a bright flash of light and severe pain before complete darkness.
****
When Blake caught up to Sam, he’d wring her pretty little neck. Imagine his surprise to come home to just a note saying she took a walk.
The note wasn’t his issue with the woman; in fact, it was thoughtful. And there was certainly nothing wrong with her taking a stroll—as long as she didn’t strain her ankle. The real problem was it had been over three hours since he’d last seen her.
Pacing the hardwood planks of the deck, he attempted to calm himself, rationalizing it wasn’t really that long. And it was feasible she hadn’t left right after him, making the possibility she’d been gone the entire time unlikely. In which case, she hadn’t been out long at all.
Unless…
Unless she’s lost.
Worry took control, and every step he took fueled his anger. He scowled. She didn’t know the land, and he knew for a fact she hardly paid attention to the trail when they hiked. Hell, Sam barely noted the path when she walked to her cabin. The darn woman was always too busy bombarding him with facts about Alaska and taking pictures. For all he knew, she could be halfway to Soldotna by now.
Of all the stupid things for her to do, this was definitely one of the most idiotic. And dangerous, too. Unable to ease his nerves any longer, he started gathering supplies. Grabbing a pack, he stuffed it with a blanket, water bottles, packs of moose jerky, and a first aid kit—just in case. A shudder shot down his spine. No. He refused to dwell on such a dark thought. Sam was fine. She had to be.
Throwing the rucksack across his shoulder, he headed out, easily finding her track. She chose to go the opposite direction than the way to her cabin. A dangerous choice considering the trail led deep into the woods. He followed her erratic steps for almost a mile before they completely disappeared.
Peering into the forest, he felt a flush of adrenaline run through him. A few oddly angled blades of grass caught his interest. It wasn’t quite enough for a novice tracker, but he saw it clearly with a keen eye.
Kneeling on the uneven dirt floor, Blake thoroughly examined each blade, noting the odd, unnatural bend of the grass. He searched for more tracks. Though the ground was muddy, he couldn’t make out her footprint.
Or any print.
Considering the option it could be an animal trail, he quickly scratched the idea. There weren’t any signs of wildlife. He glanced up at the sky, locating the position of the sun already heading into afternoon. Frustrated, he scratched his head and continued on the makeshift trail, hoping to find another sign of Sam soon.
After two hours, Blake only came up with little more than a few prints. If he didn’t find her before the brief hours of dark, he would have to call off his search until morning, and by then…
He shuddered, not wanting to think about what could happen to Sam before he reached her. Not having much time to debate his decision, he delved heedlessly into the woods. Though questioning his choice, he pushed onward. Surely, Sam would’ve stuck to the trail? If so, why weren’t there any signs?
Because there was a good chance she wasn’t on this trail. He halted, coming to a complete stop and contemplated turning back. Scratching his head, he cursed his impulsive reaction.
A good tracker didn’t make rash decisions due to emotions; he followed proof, traces indicating the abnormalities in the forest. And there weren’t any. No broken branches. No unusual marks in the dirt. Nothing to note other than the scurried imprint of an occasional animal. He needed to back track. Return to where the trail had veered off…to Sam’s last footprint.
What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t, that was the problem.
> He’d failed the number one rule…keep a calm head. The need to find her had overruled everything he knew about tracking. Under different circumstances, he would be more certain…under different circumstances, he’d have less at stake.
He scoured the area again before glancing down and noting a faint marking of a boot stamped into the ground. Crouching, he studied the imprint. It could easily be hers, but still something felt off. He moved onto another indention six inches farther on the trail. Pausing, he scratched his head in deep thought.
It wasn’t right, and he couldn’t figure out why. The indention was close to her shoe size, but his mind still reeled with doubts. Suddenly, he figured out what was wrong. The tracks were too close together.
Sam walked with a longer stride. Just one of the many things he found intriguing about her. The woman always seemed like she was in a hurry to get somewhere. And those shapely, elongated legs of hers led the way.
Blake leaned closer to the prints and measured the distance between each one. Yes, these were definitely too close to match such a purposeful walk. He quickly scanned the forest for more answers, analyzing the surrounding tree branches for any other signs.
Quickly, he replaced his doubts with common sense. These had to be her prints. Rarely did anyone other than him or Denali venture into this part of the woods. For Pete’s sake, even Blake had discovered this remote area by complete mistake, and he knew these woods like the back of his own hand.
Ignoring his earlier reservations, he continued following the tracks, only to come to a standstill minutes later, losing sight of her trail. Berating himself, he scoured the grassy path for something he missed.
He should call it in. Reaching for his cell on his belt loop, he realized it wasn’t there. A hard ball of frustration settled in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten the darn thing. Damn it. Rarely did he leave his phone behind. It was always on his hip. The cell was his lifeline.
Cursing himself for leaving the house so rashly, he knew it would’ve been too late anyway. Even if he had been able to call it in, the search would be held off until first light, which gave him no other alternative than to keep searching himself.
Blake debated turning back, but couldn’t talk himself into it. Not with thoughts of Sam spending the night in the forest. Scared. Frightened. And alone. No, he couldn’t do it. Besides, returning home without her wasn’t an option.
Refusing to give up, he began to back track. There was a possibility she’d returned to the cabin, he told himself, even though he had a hard time believing the words. If she hadn’t, that would mean…
Refusing to finish the thought, he stepped off the path and refocused, clearing his head for a minute. How could one little woman cause so much disorder in his life? It had been so much simpler before he’d met her. At least he’d been able to think clearly then. Less distractions.
That was before he’d fallen in love with the damn woman. Another life. And now he couldn’t imagine a day going by without her. From the moment he had set eyes on her, she had shaken him to his very core. Like an earthquake.
When had she invaded his every thought? He relished her body in his arms, warm and willing…the smell of her skin driving him to complete distraction…her sweet, intoxicating taste. Not to mention the funny way she had of analyzing things; it made him see things in a different light.
Then there was her work ethics and job. Hardly an issue anymore. He thought about the way her eyes lit up every time he showed her something new. Or the way he could see her mind start to tick, as if she recorded his every word whenever he brought up an interesting fact about Alaska. The state fascinated her. It was evident in her observant, green gaze. She was almost as intrigued by Alaska as he was by her.
And now he could very well lose her.
What if he couldn’t find her?
What if…?
Blake swallowed the doubts, rubbing his temples in a helpless effort to stop the drastic direction of his thoughts. He couldn’t focus on what ifs. Not right now. Kneeling down, he studied a fresh pile of bear scat to his left then quickly stood. An animal trail. How could he have been so blind-sighted? He wasn’t some kind of novice boy scout. He’d grown up tracking animals. Hell, it was part of his job.
He’d let his emotions get the best of him, and put Sam’s future at risk. The angst which spurred him on when he had begun his search returned full force. Damn it. Somehow, she was able to cloud his better judgment, even when it was for her own good.
Glancing up at the sky, Blake shook his head with renewed focus and headed back in the direction he had come. He’d lost valuable time. If he hurried, though, he might still be able to find her trail.
He closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle, hoping it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 21
Sam squinted, blinded by a painful throbbing on the right sight of her head. Quickly, she closed her eyes again, but not before a moan escaped her lips. How long had she been out?
A loud, scuffling sound stirred nearby, yet seemed strangely distant at the same time. A faint recollection of being chased through the forest filtered into her foggy thoughts.
Play dead.
The belated advice repeated itself over and over in her head.
Blake had suggested she stay still with a black bear and fight a grizzly. Or was it the opposite?
Blake.
She sighed, allowing the worries to relinquish as a wave of serenity washed over her.
I must be dead, Sam thought calmly, no longer in charge of her limbs. It was as if she was floating on clouds and the air smelled distinctly like Blake. If only he was here to hold her in his strong arms. Stupid, how very stupid it had been to leave his safe haven.
What if it wasn’t a black bear?
Suddenly, Sam came to her senses, abruptly opening her eyes. She took in her surroundings and was shocked to find she was no longer in the woods. Instead, she was in a sparse room. And in a bed.
She sat up quickly, causing a bolt of pain to stab through her head. Confused, she scanned the space for some sign of recognition. Where was she? Noting the walls were made of large logs, Sam swiftly realized she was in a cabin.
The room spun, and she closed her eyes, but the effort was in vain. The space refused to quit spinning, and she needed fresh air. Queasy, she slipped out from beneath a heavy quilt and slowly raised herself out of the large, marshmallow of a bed, careful not to make any more sudden moves. Her ankle screamed from the effort, but she braced her weight against the cool wooden wall and made it a few steps before having to rest.
But the pain was simply unbearable. Holding a hand to her temple in an effort to ease the agony, Sam limped her way to two glass paneled doors flooding the room with natural light. Halfway to the opening, she paused and held back a wave of nausea before continuing forward to complete her mission.
A picturesque view displayed before her, highlighting the miles of wilderness, and she gulped in several deep breaths before scanning her options. A calmness washed over her. There was a surreal feel about the place. As if she’d been here before.
The throbbing in her head intensified with the effort to stay standing, and Sam turned back into the bedroom. The walls closed in, swirling around her.
For the second time in her life, she was consumed by the sickening sensation of falling as blackness swallowed the light.
Chapter 22
Blake stumbled on the uneven river rock. Somehow able to keep upright, he glanced down and noted the unnatural glossy glow of Sam’s white bag. Instantly, he succumbed to a wave of relief and plopped down onto the rocky creek bed. It had taken some time, but deciding to back track and return to the trail head had paid off.
Now, back on his game, he exhaled a deep breath and embraced the slight glimmer of hope. She must be near then. He peered into the forest. The dense woods were thick with pitchy darkness, and he cursed his timing. It would be hard to find her even in the best of circumstances. Add the loss of light in the heavy fo
rest, and it was damn near impossible.
What if she was hurt or unconscious? He stopped that flow of thoughts immediately. No what ifs. His gaze was drawn to a handful of broken branches on a tree about five feet away. Blake grabbed the bag and scrambled to his feet toward the mangled limbs. Studying them closely, he then kneeled on the ground and noticed several frantic prints scattered about. But two distinctly different boot prints.
He quickly rose to full height as a score of trepidation flushed through his veins, stirring his blood. And from the erratic patterns and scattering of rocks, there appeared to have been some kind of struggle.
Up until now, he had feared only the possible threat of animals or a night lost in the woods. Never once had he considered she could fall prey to the most dangerous beast of all…man. He kneeled again, reaching out to touch a darker spot tainting the ground. When he brought his fingers back, they were wet with a red, sticky substance.
Blood.
His heartbeat pounded, thundering like a summer storm in his ears. Standing, he searched his surroundings, and not in the calm, purposely emotionless way he’d embraced up until this point. His composed demeanor was long gone, replaced instead by a flurry of panic.
Other than the spot he had thoroughly foraged, there was nothing. No tracks leading elsewhere. No more broken branches. Hell, there wasn’t even a sound in the woods other than an occasional animal scurrying in the underbrush.
Tormented, despair crept in. He was at a complete loss. The woman had simply disappeared into thin air, leaving nothing but a pool of blood behind.
Blake opened her bag as if it might reveal any clues within. He pulled out the small pad of paper she was always jotting things in, flipped through the pages, and scanned her notes. A few, very descriptive words jumped out and demanded his complete attention.
Handsome. Cocky. Egotistical.
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he continued to read a humorous recount of their first encounter, followed by a detailed depiction of the restaurant, Maggie, and Alaska. All of which she portrayed in a more favorable light.
