Trapped with the Woodsman

by M. S. Parker

  There were too many memories in this place.

  Everywhere I looked, I saw something that elicited a new memory, something that made me…ache.

  Times when we’d gone camping in those mountains that punched up into the sky around me. Fall nights when we’d all sat out in the backyard, a fire crackling in the firepit where we all roasted marshmallows. Riding the horses across the empty miles that stretched out all around us.

  Riding in a bus…

  “Stop it,” I muttered.

  But the memories wouldn’t stop playing through my mind, an endless strip of them, one right after the other.

  Knowing I was too distracted to keep using the ax, I grabbed some logs and trekked across the wide stretch of grass between me and the house. There was a woodpile on the back porch, protected from rain and snow by the second story deck that ran the width of the house. It was running low now, but the wood I’d chopped today would be enough to last a couple of weeks, even if the power did go out.

  By the time I had hauled all the wood to the porch and put away my tools, it was late enough that I needed to start getting ready for the drive into Boulder. Although Cass wasn’t scheduled to land for a while longer, I’d have to go through the Boulder area right around rush hour, and I’d rather get into town earlier and find some place to get a beer while I waited.

  I was already looking forward to several beers.

  If I didn’t have to take care of picking up Cass, I’d probably already be digging up a bottle of Tennessee whiskey. I’d spent way too many nights like that up until I took a job working as a night-time security guard at one of the big banks in Denver a few nights a week.

  It had been the drinking that had pushed me to get a job in the first place. I’d spent more than a decade in the army and had rarely spent any of the paychecks I’d earned, banking them for a future that no longer mattered. It left me with enough money that I could have gone several more years without needing a job, since the home and land where I lived was paid off. Even my truck was paid off, a vehicle I’d bought on a whim on one of my trips back home.

  With a job, I had less time to do the needed work around the property, which in turn kept me busier on the days I wasn’t working.

  That was just the way I liked it.

  The busier I was, the less time I had to think.

  To remember.

  Before going to shower, I went to check on the horses. We used to have four of them, but the two that had belonged to my parents died several years back.

  Hellboy and Captain, named for our favorite comic heroes, were now twenty-six years old, bought for us as Christmas presents when we were kids. Although I didn’t take as much pleasure in riding as I used to, I still babied them as much as I had when we’d gotten them.

  I’d just brushed them out yesterday and fed them this morning, but since I had to take care of picking up Cass from the municipal airport in Boulder, I figured I’d be late getting in.

  I made sure they had plenty of food and water, then spent a few minutes just talking to them and scratching under the coarse hair of their manes. Captain nudged me in the belly with her nose which had Hellboy whickering at me in an attempt, to get my attention.

  I went over to him and gave him some affection.

  Even though there were a lot of memories in the barn and with the horses that could tangle me up, this was the one place on the property where I found some level of peace. I probably didn’t deserve it, and more than once, I’d considered selling the horses.

  But in the end, I never could do it.

  As I talked to the animals, time slipped away, and I ended up spending far more time in the barn than I should have.

  I hurried through locking up the barn and headed inside, going straight up the steps to the small shower that joined the two upstairs bedrooms.

  There was a larger bathroom off the master bedroom, but I hadn’t used it, even once, since I’d moved back in.

  I made quick work of washing up and pondered the idea of shaving, but in the end, didn’t feel like messing with it. It wasn’t like Cass would care, and I definitely didn’t.

  My hair was still damp when I climbed into my truck fifteen minutes later. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since I’d crawled out of bed at noon.

  I checked the time and decided I’d still get to the airport before Cass landed, so I stopped at a fast-food joint after entering Lyons and got a burger and soft drink.

  By the time I was heading down Highway 36 toward Boulder, I figured I’d get to the airport just before Cass landed.

  So much for getting a drink or two. But I’d make up for it tonight after I took care of Cass.

  The mountain peaks around me were all but lost in the clouds that had been piling up all day. I eyed them with more than a little trepidation. Not for me, but the pilot flying Cass and her assistant home had to fly and land in that mess. The wind was whipping hard enough that I could hear it even though the windows were up, causing the younger trees around me to sway from the intensity.

  The weather was getting worse too. Shooting a look at the clock, I tried not to let myself get anxious as I sped down the highway. Turning on the radio, I let the strains of some random country ballad fill the air.

  I’d finally managed to calm myself when my cell phone chimed. I grabbed it and saw that it was from Cass. Glancing at the road, I swiped my thumb over the screen. Had she gotten in already?

  I skimmed the message.

  Shock punched at me.

  The truck started to veer, and I jerked my gaze up as somebody blasted their horn at me.

  Swearing, I pulled over on the side of the road and stared at the message, not entirely comprehending.

  Something’s gone wrong. I love you, Roman.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered. I punched in a demand that she answer but there was no response.

  Dread choked me, fear whispering in the back of my head.

  I sent a second message, and five minutes later, a third.

  She never answered.

  I didn’t know how long I sat there on the side of the road, staring at the blank screen of my phone and waiting for some response from Cass.

  Easily twenty minutes had passed, though. If things had worked as they should have, Cass would be landing in just a few minutes. Just the thought of that made me look at the phone.

  Something’s gone wrong, she’d told me.

  I grabbed the phone and hit the browser to pull up the information for the charter service we’d selected.

  A song on the radio stopped as I found the number.

  Just as I hit the first number, a voice came over the station in lieu of the music. “We’re getting reports of a small plane going down in the park in the region of Estes Park.”

  Everything else the DJ said fell on deaf ears as I looked back at the phone I held in my hand.

  Something’s gone wrong. I love you, Roman.

  Panicked, I hit the phone icon to try and call her.

  The phone rang and rang, then finally went to voicemail.

  Five

  Lexi

  “I hear you’re going out with us.”

  At that voice, I looked up from the pack I’d been checking. As one of the members of a local search and rescue group, I’d been on four SARs already, but this was the first time I’d had to help search for passengers of a downed plane. We weren’t sure what we’d find since we hadn’t heard from anybody onboard the craft.

  From what I could tell, that had the more experienced searchers concerned. I understood why. A plane, even small-engine crafts, were equipped with radios that would allow them to alert officials to their status and give updates on injuries, not to mention hopefully being able to offer a more detailed description of their location.

  With the snow that had moved in, we couldn’t bring in support from local pilots who were experienced in visual searches of the terrain from above. If we didn’t find them tonight, we hoped the weat
her would clear by the morning, so the pilots could help out.

  One of those pilots was the man in front of me, Roger Chadwick. He was the one who’d led the SAR course I’d taken not long after being hired for my current position with the national park. I’d also known him from talks he’d given at Colorado State University. He used to work with the National Parks System but had quit to focus more on search and rescue. We’d talked several times when he was at CSU, and it was his recommendation, I suspected, that had gotten me hired at the park. It was harder than hell to get a job at most national parks and even harder to get one at the park here in the Rockies.

  “Roger!” I greeted him with a quick hug.

  He returned the hug and stepped back, gesturing for me to continue with my check of the bag.

  “You said us,” I said as I continued the important process. Multi-tool, fireproof container for my lighter and matches – I never went without both – headlamp, a big piece of coated nylon I could use to make shelter, food, several different over-the-counter meds. “Does that mean one of your partners will handle any visual searches tomorrow?”

  “Yep.” He ran a hand over his hair. “I think I’m better suited to help with the ground search in this case since I spent more than a decade working in this area.”

  “I’ll be glad to have you. If you’re going out with us, who’s the incident commander?”

  He gestured to a tall, thin woman standing with Hawthorne in front of a large-scale map of the local area. “Hailey Sims is IC this time around. Ever met her?”

  I shook my head, still focused on the pack in front of me. When it was completely packed, as it was now, the backpack weighed roughly thirty pounds. It would sustain me for more than a day easily, although I was hoping I wouldn’t be out that long.

  “Roger!”

  I grimaced as a shadow fell over my pack, letting me know that Stilwell had quietly come up behind me and was now standing a lot closer than I liked.

  “Stilwell,” Roger said in a neutral voice.

  I’d seen the two men working together on two of the SARs I’d been on, and I had the feeling that Roger didn’t much like the other man. I couldn’t say I blamed him. Stilwell was so easy to dislike. It was like he made a study of it.

  “Alex are you sure you can handle a search like this?” Stilwell asked, shifting his attention to me.

  I bit my tongue against the urge to remind him that it wasn’t Alex. My dad had been Alex. Hearing his name, even almost two years after his death, was enough to make my heart pang. But if I let on that it bothered me, Stilwell would just keep it up so instead of snapping at him like I wanted, I told him flatly, “I think I can handle it. It’s not like I haven’t gone out before.”

  “Still…” He blew out a breath, and I could all but feel the condescension raining down on me. “Nighttime searches are rough, and they’re even harder in weather like this.”

  “I appreciate the concern,” I said with false sweetness.

  Across from me, Roger made a choking sound which quickly turned into a cough. I shot him a look in time to see him covering his mouth with his fist. But his eyes were laughing. Since Stilwell couldn’t easily see my face from his position, I rolled my eyes at Roger, who then started to cough even harder.

  Stilwell, ever helpful, asked, “Are you okay, Roger? Want Alex to get you some water?”

  Why don’t you get him some water, you asshat? I kept the snide comment behind my teeth, though.

  “She’s finishing her gear check,” Roger said, voice slightly strained. “Speaking of which, if you haven’t finished your double-check, you need to get to it. The first teams are heading out soon.”

  “Oh, I think I’m good. Alex, did you pack enough clothing and water?”

  I clenched my jaw and gave him a short nod, still not looking at him. I swear, if he kept calling me Alex…

  I cut the thought off. He’d keep doing it, and I’d just keep ignoring him and acting like it didn’t matter. I could always say something to Hawthorne, but that would just make matters worse, I suspected. Besides, it seemed…petty. It wasn’t, not to me, but I could easily imagine how others would view it as such.

  Apparently, he realized I wasn’t going to rise to the bait because Stilwell shifted his focus to Roger. “Glad to have you on hand as IC for this one, Roger. Your experience will come in handy.”

  “Oh, I’m not in charge this time around. I’ll be out there with the rest of the teams.”

  Because I already knew how he’d act, I looked up as Stilwell. “Who is handling it? I haven’t seen Brad anywhere.”

  Brad was another one of Roger’s partners and often took over as IC when Roger was either unavailable or up in his little Cessna, offering support through visual searches.

  “No. Brad’s not on tonight. My other partner, Hailey Sims, is working as IC this time around.”

  Stilwell blinked. The lines near his eyes tightened a fraction and a muscle pulsed once in his jaw. “Hailey,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever worked with her.”

  “She’s a newer addition to the group.” Roger’s eyes danced with humor that likely went unnoticed by Stilwell. “She’s a total ass-kicker, too, just so you know. Search and rescue is her life.”

  Roger jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, directing Stilwell to where Hailey still stood with Hawthorne. “She’s over there talking to your boss if you want to go introduce yourself.”

  As if. I hid a smile and looked back down at my pack, then checked the list I kept on hand. Everything was in there.

  “Thanks, but I shouldn’t interrupt them.”

  As he walked off, I glanced up at Roger.

  He met my eyes and asked, “How do you work with that clown?”

  “That’s something I wonder daily.”

  Roger grinned, his blue-green eyes crinkling around the corners. “As much as I hate it, Stilwell is going to be on my team.”

  I made a face. “But I wanted to be on your team.”

  “I’d much rather have you than him, and you’re welcome to join up with us, but I need Stilwell where I can keep an eye on him. There have been a few times where he’s been more of a hindrance than a help.” He shoved a hand through dark hair that was starting to silver at the temples. “At least if he’s with me, he’ll shut up when I tell him to. He won’t give some of the other team leaders the same respect.”

  “That’s just shocking to hear,” I said, deadpan. “I can’t imagine Stilwell ever doing anything that wasn’t respectful.”

  “I think you meant disrespectful…Alex.”

  I made a face at him, and he laughed. “I assume you’ve already told him that you prefer to go by Lexi and he’s just being an asshole?”

  “You assume correctly.” I sighed and grabbed a ponytail holder from the side pocket of my pack, scooping my hair up in a tight, low tail so the strawberry blonde strands wouldn’t blow in my face once we got out in the cold.

  I could hear the wind even from inside the ranger station near the Wild Basin park entrance. The SAR would be based out of here, the easiest station to access near the area where we believed the plane had gone down. We had a seriously large area we had to cover, and it was going to be done in the wet, clumpy snow that had started falling nearly an hour ago.

  The past few weeks had been starting to warm up which would prove to be both a blessing and curse during the upcoming search. Since it had been warm, it would take a much heavier snowfall for it to accumulate enough to impede the search. But because it had been warm, the ground was no longer frozen, and the snow and mud could make for treacherous footing.

  Up near the front of the station, Hailey put her fingers to her lips and let out a sharp whistle.

  Silence fell through the station as, one by one, each of the rangers and SAR volunteers turned to face Hailey.

  “Okay, guys. It’s probably going to be a long, wet, messy night,” she announced. “Gather round if you don’t mind. I’m going to give you what info we ha
ve, then we’ll be heading out.”

  She spoke with a slow, lazy drawl that softened her Rs and Gs. It was a comforting, confident sort of voice, and her eyes were watchful and sharp. As everybody moved closer at the IC’s request, I glanced outside at the snow. Fat flakes were already affecting visibility. I had no doubt that she’d hit the nail on the head when she predicted a long, wet, messy night.

  “I’ve spoken to Hawthorne.” She gestured to the man standing next to her, his arms folded across a wide chest. “The two of us are going to man the station and keep everybody updated. We’ve already got you broken down into teams. You guys will be the first SAR teams going out, and it’s my hope that one of you will find the plane before we need to bring in more people.” She paused a moment, letting everybody process her words. “But considering the weather and the fact that we’ve yet to contact anybody involved in the crash, we’re working against the clock. Other teams are already being mobilized and will be ready to head out the minute we put out the call.”

  “Do we even know if there are any survivors?” Stilwell asked.

  Hailey looked over at him. “As I’ve pointed out, we’ve yet to contact anybody from the plane so it’s hard to say if there are survivors or not. Regardless, we’ve got a job to do.”

  “Do we know–”

  Hailey cut in, her voice firm without coming off as rude. “I’m sure you’ll understand…” She glanced at Hawthorne.

  “Stilwell Jenner,” Hawthorne supplied.

  “Thank you. Stilwell, I’m sure you understand how essential it is to get out there, so please hold all your questions until I’m done. That goes for the group. If I fail to address your concerns as I go through the information we have available, I’ll be sure to do that once we wrap up and break into our individual teams.”

  From where I stood, I had a good view of Stilwell, and as Hailey went back to addressing the group, I caught sight of his expression.