Alaskan Mountain Pursuit

by Elizabeth Goddard

  Summer flinched when she thought that. Was that what her life had been the last three years? Just a chain of reactions to events because she knew she wasn’t ultimately in charge of her life and so she felt perpetually like she was spinning out of control?

  Oddly enough, except on ridgelines.

  Summer exhaled, managed to stop thinking so much, stop analyzing as she continued to hike through the trees. They broke through the tree line after about forty-five minutes of hard hiking, and then they were on the edge of the mountain, taking the trail that led straight up to the ridge, which they’d travel for another half a mile before reaching their family’s cabin.

  It was the best possible place for a safe house because they could see the trail to it clearly over a considerable distance. Anyone coming would be obvious because the cabin sat at the end of a ridge. To approach it from any other direction, avoiding the path, would take climbing skills that few people had.

  When Summer was up on the ridge her thoughts drifted back again, pounding in her heart to the rhythm of her quickened heartbeat.

  Up here, what Jenna Hunt’s mom had asked for felt easy. Up here, she could feel alive, even now. The irony got to her, but she couldn’t explain it. How could someone who wanted control so desperately possibly feel the best up here, at the mercy of nature?

  Because the ridgeline was a visible reminder that she wasn’t in control. That life wasn’t about that, wasn’t about risk management.

  It was about...life.

  Abundant life.

  Summer stopped, there in the trail. Looked up at Noah, but he didn’t turn around. Turned back to Clay, but he just frowned like he was worried about her. “You okay?” he asked after she’d been staring at him for a minute.

  Abundant life. Where had that idea, which felt almost like a correction to her thoughts, come from?

  She looked out over the landscape of the Kenai Peninsula beneath them, breathing deep as she surveyed the green of the trees in the valley below, the ethereal blue-green of the river below and then Seal Bay off in the distance, and the town of Moose Haven.

  Then her eyes looked out farther, to the next mountain range. Ridges, valleys, endless nothing, and Summer felt like she always did on a ridgeline. So very small.

  You are so big, God. So much more powerful than I am.

  The admission was the first prayer she’d prayed in years that hadn’t been asking for something, the first attempt at conversation she’d made with her Creator since she’d walked away from what she’d believed.

  Summer started walking again. She didn’t want the men to have to wait for her, and she knew they must both be on edge with them so exposed at the moment, outside of the relative safety of the cabin’s walls.

  But as she walked, she kept praying.

  Did You remind me about that, about abundant life? Because I know You’re right. Life isn’t the point, not even living it to the fullest, though I think that’s better than not. But You want us to live to the fullest not just for those we’ve lost but for You. As a way to thank You for this world, for the ridgelines, for the valleys, for all of it.

  Tears stung in her eyes. For innocence lost. A baby whose tiny feet had melted Summer’s heart, though they would never walk on earth. For the family she’d gotten back but had held at arm’s length.

  For her relationship with Jesus. Which she’d pushed away or ignored for so long that it felt like a natural reaction. Much more natural than this looking around, praying, praising.

  “Do you want to be made well?”

  Summer recognized the quote, from somewhere in the New Testament. Jesus had asked that of a woman when He’d walked the earth.

  Was He asking her that now? Or was her mind just recalling Scriptures it had known in the past?

  Either way, Summer nodded, felt her chest tighten a little and then release, her shoulders feeling lighter than they had in years.

  “Yes,” she whispered to God as she looked out over the mountains He had created. And still created her. “Yes I do.”

  SIXTEEN

  The cabin was the perfect safe house. Clay had seen as soon as they’d begun their approach down the ridgeline why Noah had been so sure they had the best possible location in mind. Egress would be almost impossible without detection.

  He and Noah had talked while Summer was packing, working out logistics. Noah had a SAT phone with him, since regular cell phones wouldn’t get service this far from a tower, and he’d call the Moose Haven PD to keep in touch with the other officer there to see if any progress was being made. They both voiced the hope that maybe tampering with the gas lines at the lodge would be where the guy would mess up, that maybe he’d made some kind of mistake that would result in him finally getting caught.

  But neither of them was counting on that, and they’d made plans for who would take which watch, what to do in case of several contingencies. Clay felt they were as well prepared as they could be. Having at least one more officer would have been ideal, but there just wasn’t the manpower to spare. Even two men were more than was practical, but this was Summer and no one was taking chances with her safety.

  Ten feet from the cabin Noah stopped hiking and turned back. “Stay with Clay,” he told Summer.

  She did so and Noah went inside to clear the building, though they had no reason to believe the killer would have been able to anticipate them coming up here.

  Clay’s only concern was the fact that this cabin wasn’t a secret. Noah insisted it wasn’t extremely well-known, but the fact was that someone might know, and Clay didn’t want their location to somehow make it to the attention of the man who wanted Summer dead.

  He had the uncomfortable feeling that he might be wrestling with some trust issues. But it was a valid question his heart couldn’t stop asking—Why was God letting Summer be stalked by this man? Why wasn’t He helping the police find his identity so they could eliminate the threat by putting him behind bars where he belonged?

  Clay had seen enough evil in police work that he’d already worked through questions about injustice, about why God let bad things happen to good people. But it didn’t stop a few persistent, unanswerable questions from popping up now and then. Clay asked them when they came though, knowing that ignoring them wouldn’t help and wouldn’t strengthen his relationship with God the way the hard stuff did, much as he didn’t like going through it at the time.

  “Are you doing okay?” Clay asked Summer quietly. He’d prayed for her, especially on the hike up this morning. The things she’d been through... He understood more after hearing part of her story why she struggled with faith the way she did, even though he knew God hadn’t abandoned her.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Seriously?” Clay wanted the real answer, not to just be brushed aside. Besides, if she wanted to back off a little from their growing friendship, she’d picked an impossible time to do it. The three of them were going to be stuck in a relatively small cabin indefinitely.

  “All clear.”

  Not that Noah being with them would give Clay and Summer much time to talk privately.

  Clay followed Summer to the cabin. The front was a wide deck that looked out over the landscape below. There were four steps up to the deck. The front door was off the deck—Clay hoped there was a back door because while having only one entrance and exit meant less places to protect, it could be bad if they needed to escape in a hurry.

  He leaned back around the side of the house. The windows were wide enough to serve as exits if there were an emergency, something Clay was hoping to avoid.

  He stole another glance at Summer. Despite her initial protests, she looked more relaxed here at the safe house than she’d looked in Moose Haven for a while.

  Clay felt relaxed up here too, like it was easier to see clearly on the top of the world.

  For the first time since he’d left Treasure
Point, he could think through that situation, analyze what he’d done wrong—the mistakes that had shaken his faith in himself as an officer of the law. And he came up with...

  Nothing. Well, almost nothing. He should have listened to Kelsey, his cousin, when, months ago, someone had been trying to kill her and she’d had suspicions that someone in their police department was the would-be killer. That had been his only mistake. And while it was a big one, nothing else had indicated who the traitor was. There had been no clues. Thankfully, Kelsey was okay, and didn’t blame Clay for not believing her gut instinct.

  The man who had tried to kill her bore all the blame, she’d told Clay. Clay hadn’t done anything, which was what grated him so badly. He hadn’t done anything. But still, the situation itself, his cousin being in danger...

  It hadn’t been Clay’s fault.

  Somehow a weight lifted, he felt even lighter. Then looked up at the sky.

  Did You allow those things to happen so I’d end up here? Do You sometimes allow something we view as bad because of the fact that You are working all things for our good?

  The questions he asked God didn’t have immediate audible answers. But something that felt a lot like peace edged over his heart.

  He looked back at Summer. Tried to exhale some of his worries about her safety.

  You’re taking care of her too, in this situation, right, God?

  Yes. God was in control, had His good purposes in mind. Clay just had to learn to let his trust rest firmly on Him.

  * * *

  Summer took a sip of coffee and winced. She hated coffee, but mornings in the cabin were cold if no one had kept a fire going overnight, which none of them had because the weather hadn’t been forecasted to be especially cold.

  Well, the weather hadn’t gotten the memo. All of her was cold, down to her toes. She shivered, then took another sip of the nasty brown liquid some people apparently liked. Noah watched her with amusement. Clay was still sleeping since he’d taken the first watch last night.

  She was about a third of the way through the coffee when Clay walked out. “Is that coffee?” He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you only drank tea?”

  Summer sputtered a little, having attempted another sip. “I’m freezing.”

  Clay smiled and shook his head, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a box of Irish breakfast tea. “I’m sorry I wasn’t up sooner. Want to trade?”

  Before she could stop him he’d started heating the water. She watched as he steeped the tea for her, finding something spellbinding in the fact that the same hands that were prepared to defend her from any threat were now gently making her tea. It seemed so domestic and such a contradiction but also so Clay that she just smiled.

  She took the tea from him, handed off the coffee and sat in the silence, feeling for half a second like she could imagine a future like this. Her and Clay as...something. Friends? More? They would have to see, but she wanted him in her life.

  Wanted a life like this. With some peace. Rest.

  Summer glanced out the window. They were on top of a ridgeline. That summarized her desires for life well, didn’t it? Rest on a ridgeline.

  “I’ve got to call Moose Haven in a minute so I may step out onto the deck,” Noah said to Clay, glancing at Summer as he did so.

  So much for her few minutes of peace. Everything about the investigation slammed back into her mind, creating dark corners and shadows and worry where a few minutes ago there had been quiet and calm.

  If Noah was concerned about her trying to overhear his conversation, he didn’t need to be. Summer was done with interfering. She’d tried to get involved, tried to help with the investigation and do some good, and it hadn’t helped. If anything, it had hurt. They were no closer to finding him than she’d been before she stepped out of her comfort zone and tried to do something that made her feel less like a victim.

  So maybe it was time to sit back and acknowledge that she was out of her depth here.

  Clay looked over at her. She could tell he wanted to say something. Amazing how well you could learn how to read someone else’s facial expressions when you were with them almost constantly.

  Noah went outside, shutting the door carefully behind him.

  “Are you okay?”

  Summer looked at Clay. “I’m not sure.”

  “Why?”

  “I...” Her mind felt like it was spinning. She’d felt so good only a few minutes before but right now the weight of her situation was pressing on her and she couldn’t handle it. Was this what a panic attack felt like? Summer struggled to shake it off, but nothing helped. She looked down at her hands. They were shaking.

  She shrugged.

  “Hey.” He set his coffee mug down, reached out for her hands and took them both. “This will be over soon.”

  She didn’t know if she didn’t believe the words or if she was worried it was true, that it would be over soon in a way that would mean the killer had succeeded in—

  “I’m not going to let him get to you.”

  Clay’s words were quiet.

  Summer nodded. Looked out the window as she replayed the conversation she’d had with Mrs. Hunt. Really, truly live without regrets.

  The desire to do that wrestled with the unexpected fear that had found her two nights ago at the lodge when there had been the gas leak. For some reason it was that incident that had gotten her attention, more than any other attempt the killer had made on her life. Maybe because it hadn’t just been her in danger. It had been innocent people.

  “So what’s the plan?” Summer asked after taking a long sip of tea to steady herself. It seemed to work at least a little.

  “We wait.” Clay’s face sobered.

  “For him to come try...”

  Clay shook his head. “No. It’s a safe house. There’s no sort of plan to use you for bait, Summer. We don’t anticipate this place being compromised at all. We’re just waiting for a break on the case.”

  “How can anyone get that if he doesn’t try anything else?”

  “They’re still working on the previous crime scenes. It’s not as fast as the movies make it seem—there are other crimes to investigate, other work that has to be done, and most of it is manual, done by actual people.”

  Summer sighed. She didn’t like seeming high maintenance but it seemed like there had to be a way for things to go faster. Waiting had never been a strong suit of hers.

  Noah walked back in then, the SAT phone in his hand.

  “Any news?” She hated how eager her voice sounded.

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m afraid we’re going to be up here for a while, so I’m going to go get some firewood.”

  “I’m in favor of that. I’m not drinking coffee again tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be back soon.” He looked at Clay. “Take care of my sister. I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

  And then Noah was gone again.

  Summer looked over at Clay, feeling his eyes on her. “What?”

  “You won’t have to drink coffee ever again if I can help it.” He smiled.

  “I didn’t say thank you...for bringing the tea.” She blushed a little, suddenly self-conscious of the nice thing he’d done for her, and the fact that they were alone.

  And that he knew her deepest, darkest secrets and still seemed to care...

  “Summer, something you said when we were running near Six Mile Creek...”

  Her body stiffened. She looked down, then felt Clay’s hand on her right shoulder. Felt a soft squeeze, brotherly almost.

  But when she looked up at him and met his eyes. There was nothing brotherly in the gentle expression he was giving her.

  “You are that kind of woman. You’re the kind who goes through hard things and comes out stronger. You still have your childhood faith, I can tell by the way you ta
lk about what happened. If you didn’t believe in God, still have a relationship with Him even if it’s messed up right now, you wouldn’t care so much. You are stronger than you realize, and you can be more than you imagine. It’s up to you.”

  He exhaled. “That’s all I wanted to say. I just didn’t get a chance the other day and it has bothered me ever since to think of you wandering around with such a low opinion of yourself. Seeing yourself that way.”

  She laughed, but it was without humor. “I do see myself that way. Every single time I look in the mirror.”

  “I’ll never see you that way.”

  Their faces drew closer. Summer didn’t know who moved first. All she knew was that he was close enough now that she could see the stubble on his jaw, the roughness contrasting with the smoothness of his lips, which were close enough for hers to brush over.

  Summer closed her eyes and let her lips find his. And let him convince her with his kiss.

  SEVENTEEN

  So the timing could have been better, since they were in a safe house and everything in Summer’s life was so uncertain. Clay still wanted to be careful, and he didn’t want it to seem like he was taking advantage of her vulnerability, even a little, but she’d kissed him first. He’d just finished it.

  And then he’d pulled away, like the gentleman his mama had raised him to be.

  “Clay...”

  He smiled, brushed a hand along the edge of her jawline, so softly it felt like he’d barely touched it. “I care about you, Summer. A lot. Enough to tell you that I’m not going to complicate your life more than it is now by making promises or plans. But when this is over...”

  She nodded. Smiled just enough that Clay had hope that, even though she wasn’t vocalizing it right now, maybe she felt the same way he did.

  He stood and walked to one of the windows, feeling like he should give her a little space, though it was hard in a cabin this small. He glanced at his watch. Forty-five minutes since Noah had left. He’d said he’d return within an hour. Clay didn’t think Summer had noticed how much time had passed yet, so he left the subject alone. She didn’t need to add any worries about her brother to the ones he could already see she was carrying.