by Kaylea Cross
She pressed her face to the front of his jacket and forced herself to take slow, deep breaths. Her pain tolerance was generally high, but nerve and bone pain were the worst. She had prescription meds for the infrequent times it got this bad. Unfortunately, she didn’t have them with her.
“I wish I could make it stop,” he murmured, holding her tight to his powerful body. “I wish I could make all of this go away.”
Her, too. “J-just think of the stories we can t-tell after this. We can be all, ‘Remember that time when we got s-stuck on the mountain in the middle of a blizzard and a wanted murderer tried to k-kill us, so we holed up in a cave and nearly froze to death?’.”
His low chuckle gusted against her ear. “Maybe we should write a book about it together.”
“They’ll make it into a m-movie.”
“They would if they’re smart.” He nuzzled the side of her neck, his whiskers scraping pleasantly, sending a different kind of shiver through her.
They lapsed into quiet after that. She closed her eyes, trying to disassociate from her physical discomfort, but exhausted as she was, the pain wouldn’t allow her to doze off again.
She kept breathing through it and toughed it out, thinking about Rylee and her brother. “Tate and Rylee are going to be freaking out right now.”
“He was probably already doing that by about nineteen-hundred-hours last night when we didn’t show up and he couldn’t reach us.”
Maybe she’d be able to get a cell signal a little farther down the mountain, so she could at least text him to say they were alive. “He and Mase will come looking for us as soon as the storm eases enough for them to get up here.”
“Yeah. We’ll probably run into them on the way down.”
“I hope Rylee’s not too upset.” The thought of her daughter in distress tore at her. But she was so glad Rylee had declined the invitation to come up here with them yesterday. Tala would never want her going through something like this.
“We’ll get you back to her as soon as possible.” He rubbed her back again, more slowly now. A soothing motion meant to comfort and lull. “Can you go back to sleep if I lie us down again?”
“No. But you go ahead and get some more sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
“I’m okay. Just worried about you.”
She liked that he cared so much. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“Don’t I know it.”
She didn’t know what the cryptic comment meant, but there was a note of respect in his tone so she didn’t ask him what he meant by it. Instead, she closed her eyes and focused on him to try and push the sharpest edge of the pain away.
She concentrated on his warmth. The strength of his arms around her. Sheltering and protecting her with his body.
More than anything, she tried not to think of him walking away when this was over. Back to war. Maybe never to return.
Her eyes popped open when he shifted under her sometime later. It seemed a bit brighter inside the enclosure now.
“Sorry, just had to clear the air hole again,” he said, setting the ski pole down in front of them.
She couldn’t believe she’d dozed off. “It’s okay.” Her eyelids felt heavy and swollen, and the pain in her leg increased with her alertness.
“It’s starting to get light out now. Snow’s slowed a bit more.” He ran a hand up and down her spine. “Can you ski on your right leg right now?”
“Yes.” It would hurt, but tough shit for her. She wanted out of here and to get back to her daughter.
“Eat something first.” He reached into his ruck to get another bag of trail mix. “Can you manage—”
“Yes.” She took the bag from him, clumsily opened it with her gloves, then popped a handful in her mouth. After scooping up another big handful, she gave it back to him.
He left the blanket around her while he rolled up the bedroll and packed up what little they’d used overnight. She checked the two socks she’d pulled over the liner on her stump to make sure there were no wrinkles in them, then reached for her prosthetic, bracing for the coming pain.
She pressed her lips together as she pulled it on, then set her hands on the bedroll to push upright. Braxton was right there to help scoop her up and set her on her feet. She gripped his arm while she sank her weight down on her right leg, locking the pin into the prosthetic socket.
Pain shot from the stump and up her leg, making her inhale sharply. Shit.
Braxton steadied her with an arm across the middle of her back. “Tal.”
She clenched her jaw, didn’t look at him. “No, I’m okay.” She could do this. She’d been through a lot worse. All she had to do was tough it out until they got to the truck. Then she could take everything off, and once back at Tate’s place, she could take some meds.
“If it’s too much we can wait here until the storm breaks. Maybe then we can reach Tate and they’ll bring snowmobiles up to get us.”
She shook her head, adamant. “No, I want to get going now.” Waiting here in the cold would only make it worse. At least once they were moving, she would get a bit warmer, and maybe the pain would decrease after a while too. It depended.
His dark brown eyes held hers, his eyebrows pulled together in a concerned frown. “If it gets too bad, I’ll carry you.”
She gave a terse nod, not wanting to talk anymore, and reached for her right ski. The binding wobbled when she set the foot of her prosthetic into it. Her leg howled in protest with the movement, pain forking through it, and when she reached down for her poles, all the muscles in her arms and across her back knotted and ached.
Hell. This was gonna suck so bad on the way down.
She reached for her goggles next, tugging them in place. Gearing up to face the elements once more. You can do this, Tal. You’re going home to Rylee.
When she straightened, Braxton was standing at the entrance, watching her through his own goggles. “Ready?”
As she’d ever be. “Yeah.”
He pulled aside some of the branches, opening a doorway of sorts. The bitter wind raced through the opening, momentarily stealing her breath, but he was right, it had died down some, and the snow had slowed enough to allow her to partially see their surroundings in the pre-dawn light. But the landscape they emerged into from the enclosure was completely unrecognizable from the night before.
Snowdrifts taller than her obscured her view along the side of the mountain. “We heading left?” That was the direction they’d come here from last night.
He nodded and struggled his way through the deep snow toward where the trail had been. “Stay in my tracks. And if you need to stop, tell me right away.”
“Okay.”
It was the toughest skiing she’d ever done. Every single stride sent a combination of pain through her stump, and the fresh, deep snow made it extra difficult to maneuver her skis.
She blocked it all out. Blocked out everything but her determination to keep going, telling herself that each painful stride forward meant being one step closer to finishing and getting back to Rylee.
Braxton kept a steady, methodical pace, looking back frequently to check on her. But as they wound their way around a curve in the trail, Tala’s nape began to tingle.
She looked around instinctively, her pulse thudding in her ears. There was no sound but the wind and her labored breaths. Nothing moved around them except the drifting snowflakes and the evergreen boughs waving in the wind.
But she knew without a doubt that they weren’t alone out here.
****
“What is it? Did you hear something?” Nina mumbled sleepily beside him, pushing up on one elbow in their bed.
It was too dark to see her face, but the sky was already beginning to lighten outside their master bedroom window. Eight inches of new snow clung to the bottom of the sill. “No. But it’s almost dawn and the storm’s finally easing. I have to go.”
Tate stood and grabbed the cold weather gear he’d put on the dresser last night. He’d bare
ly slept, kept waking up soon after he dozed off and checking his phone, hoping he’d find a message from either Tala or Brax. But he’d heard nothing all night, and according to the GPS spotter, they were still out there, in the same place it had last pinged them ten hours ago.
His gut told him there was more to this than the storm. That something else had caused them to take shelter up there. He and Mason needed to get out there and find them A-fucking-SAP.
He dressed and hurried into the kitchen, already on the phone. Three different calls put everyone involved in the search effort into motion, and everything was ready to begin. He’d coordinated everything with the department last night, with cops and local search and rescue volunteers.
Several on-duty officers would be helping, along with a half-dozen more who were technically on holiday but were coming out today as volunteers. Tate and Mason were going up now, and everyone else was meeting at the building site at eight. They would start at the area where Tala and Brax’s GPS spotter last pinged their location, and work outward from there.
Tate wolfed down half a turkey sandwich on his way through the kitchen, his gaze straying out to the back deck. They had well over eighteen inches of snow out there and it was still coming down, though not as bad as before. The backyard was littered with broken boughs and branches brought down by the near hurricane-force winds.
The storm had been intense. When Tal and Brax hadn’t been able to make it down the mountain, they would have taken shelter somewhere through the night.
Unless something happened to them.
He was at the counter pouring thermoses full of hot coffee to take with him when Nina came in, her fluffy yellow robe with pink roses on it belted around her waist. “Don’t worry about that,” she said. “Rylee and I will bring up food and drinks for everyone. We’ve got it covered.” She wound her arms around him from behind, her right hand rubbing his chest in a soothing circle.
He set a hand on hers, squeezed. “You don’t need to do that.”
“We want to. Avery’s already going to be handling all the search party coordination at the building site. Rylee and I are going to help her. I just wish I could do more.”
He turned around and took her face in his hands. She had the biggest heart of anyone he knew, and knowing she cared so much made him love her even more. “Love you, sunshine.”
She smiled up at him, her brown eyes worried. “Love you back. And you need to promise me you’ll be careful.”
He stroked his thumb across her petal-soft cheek, impatient to get going. By the time he and Mason reached the building site, it would be sunrise. “I promise.” He kissed her gently. “Let Rylee sleep as long as you can.” He didn’t want his niece worrying a second longer than she had to. And maybe, if he was lucky, by the time she awoke, he would have Tala back here to greet her.
“I will.” Nina lifted up on her toes to brush a kiss across his mouth, her hands squeezing his shoulders. “You go find them, Tate, and bring them home.”
That’s exactly what he was going to do.
Chapter Sixteen
Jason hunched over to try and protect himself from the icy wind as he drove the snowmobile down an incline, heading for a trail he knew of farther down the mountain. He just hoped it was still unblocked, because if it wasn’t, he would have to backtrack to his starting point and try another direction.
Urgency pumped through him. The storm had cost him precious time already, preventing him from getting out of here last night as planned.
He should have been in Idaho by now, on a nice warm bus heading to meet his sister in California. Instead he was stuck out here, half-frozen and forced to find an alternative route out of these damn mountains.
His fingers were like ice inside his insulated gloves. Last night had been the coldest, longest night of his life. The weather had forced him to go back to the shack. Even inside it he’d half-frozen to death.
He’d run out of fuel for the wood-burning stove at around one in the morning. Soon after that, the wind had torn part of the roof off. He’d spent the rest of the night huddled next to the barely-warm stove beneath a nest of tarps and blankets, wondering if he’d make it to morning.
Now dawn was approaching. Moving around in the daylight increased the risk of being seen. He didn’t know what had happened to the two people he’d gone after yesterday, but since he’d taken one snowmobile and burned the rest of their shit, they’d probably frozen to death.
The snowmobile tipped forward as he started down the slope. Snow sprayed him as the vehicle tore through the powder covering the denser snow beneath. Just as he was about to reach the bottom, the skis hit something. The handlebars snapped sideways, making the vehicle torque in midair.
He flew off the seat, the breath whooshing from his lungs when he plowed face first into the thick powder. Immediately he shoved up and struggled to his feet, shaken. Snow seeped down into the collar of his jacket and up his sleeves, the intense cold burning his already chilly skin.
The snowmobile was lying on its side a dozen feet away. He trudged over to it and yanked out the rifle that was now sticking end up out of the snow. Slinging it across his back, he grabbed the handlebars of the snowmobile and struggled to wrestle it back onto its treads.
Finally he succeeded, panting and sweating, the melting snow inside his clothes creating icy rivulets along his skin. But the snowmobile wouldn’t start. He tried everything he knew to get it going, and the bastard wouldn’t turn over.
“Fuck!” he snarled, and began gathering up the contents of the backpack that had strewn everywhere during the crash. The snowmobile had been his only chance of getting out of here without the cops hot on his trail, and now he was back to being on foot. In the middle of a goddamn blizzard.
Straightening, he stared through the swirling snow at the shadowy peaks rising ahead of him. He’d never make it to the pass on foot. Not with the weather turned to shit and his only shelter ruined.
His heart sank, his frustration building, rising in a red tide of anger. He needed to find shelter and hide until he could find another way out of here, but the only other building he knew of within reach right now was a partially-constructed one down in the valley near the creek. He’d have to go back down the mountain and risk taking the shortcut again to get there.
Anger pulsed through him, helping to counteract the cold and the bitter sting of disappointment. He was down, but not out. He still had a rifle and supplies, and he knew how to survive.
He shrugged into his backpack and slung the rifle over his shoulder before starting his retreat back the way he’d come. With every single step, he plunged thigh-deep into the snow. Covering fifty feet felt like he’d trudged the length of a football field. But he kept going, stopping when he couldn’t catch his breath, then carrying on.
It took him over an hour to reach the start of the shortcut. Because of the incline the snow hadn’t settled as thickly on it. He half-jogged, half-skidded his way down the trail he knew by heart. But when he finally emerged onto the wider trail at the bottom, his racing heart stuttered to a halt.
Ski tracks. Two sets. Leading down the same trail he had to take.
He reached back for his rifle, his gaze jerking left and right as he searched for the skiers. Had to be the same people as yesterday. No way anyone else would have been up here so early, in this same spot in these conditions. How the hell had they made it through the night out here?
His pulse thudded in his ears. They’d seen him. Might be able to ID him, and would definitely be able to give his location away now that he was stranded. And now they were between him and the only place of refuge he knew of for miles around.
He tightened his grip on his weapon, mind made up. They had to die.
There was no other way for him to escape. He had to kill them both and get down to that building to hide until it was safe enough to move again.
Moving with purpose, he started down the trail. Following the tracks, his rifle at the ready.
&nbs
p; When he crested a slight ridge partway down the trail, he paused to scan below him. Through the falling snow his gaze immediately shot to the two figures skiing down the trail almost directly beneath him.
He swallowed, his heart rate kicking up. He stepped closer to the edge of the ridge, carefully feeling along with his right boot to make sure he didn’t step on unstable ground. There was no sound but the dying wind.
They hadn’t seen him. Didn’t know he was up here. His conscience needled him. It almost seemed unfair for him to pick them off this way, but he had no choice.
Jason tugged off his right glove with his teeth, brought the rifle to his shoulder and took aim at the man. He was out front. Bigger, an easier target. And once Jason killed him, the woman would likely freeze in terror or stop to try and help him, making her an easy kill.
He angled his body to make the shot, his index finger shifting from the trigger guard to curve around the trigger.
The ground shifted beneath his right boot.
He lowered the rifle and jerked back, the momentum making him tumble into the snow. He jerked his head up in terror to see the edge crumbling inches from his feet. Disappearing a bit at a time and plunging down the cliff face.
Jason frantically scrambled away as the ground in front of him disintegrated and tumbled down right where his targets were.
“HALFWAY THERE,” BRAXTON said to Tala over his shoulder, trying to encourage her. Her lips had a purple cast from the cold and she was pale. And even though she was still hurting, she refused to let him carry her.
She nodded in answer and kept coming, her strides awkward and jerky. Partly from the ruined binding he’d wrapped some duct tape around a while back to try and hold it together, but mostly because of her leg.
“Tal, let me carry you,” he said again. The storm was definitely easing now, giving them a bit of visibility to work with. He could ski with her on piggyback, or even across his shoulders. “At least for a while.”
She shook her head. “Don’t stop,” she panted. “Keep going.”
