A Colton Target (The Coltons 0f Roaring Springs Book 5)

by Beverly Long

  For the first time, she looked hopeful. He didn’t demand to know what Isaac had said. Sarah was still there, and they needed to get out of the building.

  “I’m all done,” he said. “Thank you for meeting us here.”

  “Of course,” Sarah replied. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “No, thank you.” Tilda leaned in to give the woman a quick hug.

  Blaine thought there was little doubt that she hadn’t seen the note. But if Tilda had trusted her enough to have her open the school for them, perhaps she could be trusted to keep her mouth shut, and the whole episode wouldn’t be flashing across social media in fifteen minutes.

  The three of them walked outside, and they waited while Sarah got into her car. The second she shut the door, he turned to Tilda. “What?” he asked.

  “Isaac said that when he and Josh were skiing last week, they had binoculars with them and saw a cabin to the west of the Running Deer slope. They’d joked about it being a great place to hide.”

  There were luxury cabins scattered around the property. They offered privacy for guests who wanted that. But he was pretty sure this cabin wasn’t one of those. The cabin west of Running Deer had been there since his grandparents had homesteaded in these mountains. It wasn’t used for anything, but Russ had always insisted that it be kept on the property. He was sure it was always locked. And with the temp hovering around twenty tonight, it would be damn cold up there if one was stuck outside.

  He briefly explained the location to Tilda. When he finished, she ran her hands through her long hair. “There’s a bus that runs from the bus depot to The Lodge.”

  He was aware of that. “And he might have made it before the chairlifts shut down for the day. Once he started down the mountain, he’d have had to go off-trail.”

  “He’s pretty good on skis,” she said.

  He was. But it would be a very challenging run. On a good day.

  Which wasn’t today. The temperature was dropping, and the sidewalks were already getting slick. Up on the mountain, it would be even colder. The slopes could have a thin layer of ice on them, making them treacherous to navigate.

  “I think we need to check it,” he said simply.

  “I’ll come with you,” Tilda said.

  “No.” She wouldn’t be safe. “I’ll be able to move faster on my own.”

  “What if something happens to you?” she asked. “How would I know?”

  “Nothing is going to happen to me. Cell-phone coverage is very spotty in those areas. I can get a satellite phone at The Lodge. Still, you may not hear from me for a while, but don’t worry.”

  “We could be wrong,” she said. “What if you go all that way and we lose hours, valuable hours, looking for him?”

  It was a risk, he knew. But he’d seen Isaac and Josh together. His gut told him that Isaac had mentioned the log cabin to Tilda because he really thought Josh was probably there and he cared about his friend. “Tilda, you’re going to need to trust me. To know that I’ll do everything within my power to find our son, and to make sure that both of us stay safe. I’ll get to that cabin. If I don’t find him, we’re calling in the cavalry.”

  “He’s my everything,” she said. Her voice was thick with emotion.

  “I know that,” he rasped. Then he leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were cold and wet. But her taste was sweet.

  It was just a brief touch and over far too soon. He lifted his head. “I’ll bring him home. I promise.”

  * * *

  Blaine drove back up the mountain, slipping and sliding on the slick road. Ten minutes into the drive, he called his mother’s cell phone.

  “Hi, Blaine,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “Are you at home?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Too much going on at work.”

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  Mara’s tone had changed. Probably realized that this wasn’t a social call. “Josh took off this afternoon.”

  “Took off?” she repeated.

  “Yeah. Tilda and I found his phone in his locker at school, along with a note that he’d be home tomorrow.”

  “I see.”

  She’d raised a passel of kids, and he was confident that he, his brothers and his sisters had pulled some real boners. “We think he might be headed up to the cabin that sits west of Running Deer.”

  “I haven’t been there for years,” she mused.

  “I’m not sure if anyone has been. But I’m going there tonight.” He didn’t need to explain the trip. She would understand that the road would take him as far as The Lodge, then he’d have to take a ski lift up the mountain and, from there, ski to the destination.

  “Just you?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll let Decker know what’s going on if he’s still at The Lodge. And I’m taking one of the satellite phones.”

  She said nothing for a second. Then, “Blaine, I know you survived thirteen years of very challenging situations in the military without your mother whispering in your ear to be careful. But, honey, be careful. And bring my grandson home safe.”

  “I will.”

  “Where’s Tilda?”

  “At home.” His vehicle slid to the right, and he carefully brought it back onto the road. “I’ve got to go, Mom. Think about staying at The Chateau tonight. These roads are pretty bad.” Blaine hung up and focused on driving. He went as fast as he could, but it still took thirty minutes to make the fifteen-minute drive. The precipitation that was falling right now was more ice than snow, and it was going to make moving on skis or foot very treacherous.

  At The Lodge, he went to find Decker, who was still in his office. When he explained the situation, his brother immediately volunteered to go with him.

  “Thank you but no,” he said. His kid, his problem. He didn’t need to drag anybody else into what could be a difficult and likely dangerous effort. “Mom also knows what’s going on. Just in case.” In case I don’t come back. Those were the words he didn’t need to say. They both knew. He’d be very near the area that they currently had closed because of avalanche risk.

  “If you can get me up the mountain, that’s the only help I need.” During the week, the ski lifts stopped operating at five.

  “I’ll make a call,” Decker said.

  “Thank you.”

  He was at the door when his brother spoke again. “What’s Tilda have to say about this?” he asked, his voice hard.

  “She’s scared.” Blaine swallowed hard. There was no need to tell Decker that he’d kissed Tilda. He still didn’t know what to think about it himself. All he’d known was that it felt right. “She’s a good mom.”

  “You think so?” Decker said, as if he didn’t believe it.

  His brother was still mad on his behalf. But now, instead of it making him feel better, it just made him feel badly that he’d been so critical of Tilda. “I’m going to find Josh, and we’re going to figure this out. Figure out how to be some sort of family.” He stood up. “I’ve got to get some things together, and then I’m going to take off.”

  “Good luck,” his brother said before he got up, came around his desk and hugged him.

  It took Blaine another fifteen minutes to gather the essentials that he would need. A compass, some food, water, a couple lightweight blankets, and extra clothes because Josh had likely gotten wet on his trek to the cabin. Then, of course, matches, flashlights, a headlamp, an emergency transponder, a shovel, and a medical kit that he prayed like hell he wasn’t going to need. The last thing he added was the satellite phone.

  He donned his ski boots and outerwear and carried his skis. Once he was outside, he put them on. As Decker had promised, the chair-lift lights were on, and he could see a person in the control booth. He waved his hand and got on a chair. He had so much stuff on his
back that he had to sit forward in the seat. He kept his face down because, even though he wore a facemask, the icy snow hurt as it hit his face.

  He wasn’t a praying man, but now he prayed that Josh had gotten to the cabin and found a way to get in.

  He got off at the top and turned on his headlamp. The sun would officially set around eight, in a half hour, but it had been such a cloudy, dark day that it was already hard to see. The tall pine trees didn’t help because they blocked any light that was available.

  He was grateful for his generally good sense of direction. And the fact that he was still in tip-top shape and good on skis was certainly a plus.

  A very good downhill skier could go about one thousand vertical feet in two minutes. On perfectly groomed trails. In good conditions.

  He was going to have to go about two thousand vertical feet, off-trail, across rough and icy patches, in the dark, with gear on his back. If he made it in less than an hour, it would be a damn miracle. It frightened him again to think of Josh doing the same thing. Of course, it had been light then, a little less cold, and he’d probably been traveling light. Still. He was a thirteen-year-old boy. He wouldn’t have the same stamina as Blaine.

  So, in addition to everything else, he was going to have to keep his eyes peeled for the boy and stop every couple minutes to listen for unusual sounds.

  And hopefully keep away from any wild animals who might take exception to him being on their turf.

  He planted his poles, bent his knees and pushed off.

  * * *

  Blaine had wrapped his arm around her. Which meant nothing, of course. Comfort. Reassurance. A promise that all would be well.

  But then he’d kissed her.

  Too brief to conjure up any recollection of familiarity.

  Bull. The second his lips had touched hers, she’d been swamped with a memory of how he’d kissed her after their first date. Not prom. But weeks earlier. They’d gone to the movies, and he’d brought her home. And, there, on her parents’ porch, he’d leaned in and gently kissed her. She’d talked about it for days to her best friend. Had recounted in great detail the shape of his lips, his taste, the fact that there had been no tongue.

  It had been sweet. Just like tonight’s kiss.

  And now, as she parked in front of her parents’ house and stared at that same front porch, she could almost see herself and Blaine, two kids really, not having a clue that their lives were about to change forever. She would have a baby and get married. He would go to war. Radically different paths.

  But they’d somehow found themselves in this place some thirteen years later. They’d been given another chance to do right by the child they’d created together. She bowed her head over her steering wheel. Please, please, dear God, bring Josh back to me. And Blaine, too. I need them, God. Both of them.

  Tilda opened her car door. She’d told her parents that she’d call back when she found Josh, knowing they’d be worried. She couldn’t leave them hanging, but she also didn’t want to stress them out needlessly either.

  Blaine would find him. Blaine would bring him home.

  She walked into her parents’ house. They were in the living room, watching television. Her dad saw her first. “Where’s Josh?” he asked immediately, concern in his tone.

  Her mom was looking at her now. And she very deliberately reached for the television remote and turned the volume down. “What’s happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t want you to worry,” Tilda said. After all, she was doing enough of that for all of them. “We found Josh’s phone, and he left a note. He said that he’d be home tomorrow.” Even as she said it, it sounded unreal. Her son was only thirteen. “He told Isaac that he needed to get away for a bit.”

  “Get away?” her mom repeated. “That’s crazy.”

  “Not crazy,” Tilda said. “Kids are under tremendous pressure these days. As a teacher and a mom, I know that to be true. They feel stress. Maybe not in the same way as adults, but it’s real.”

  Her mom held up a hand. “I’m sorry, Tilda. I said that wrong. What’s crazy is that he thinks he can simply be gone overnight. Without us knowing where he is.”

  “We have an idea. When he and Isaac were skiing this past weekend, they saw a cabin high up in the mountains. They talked about it being a good place to get away.”

  “Who does the cabin belong to?”

  “It’s on Colton property. Blaine is on his way there now, to find him. To make sure he’s safe.”

  Nobody said anything. She understood. It was a lot to process. “Well, based on what I’ve heard about Blaine’s military service, there’s probably nobody better. He’s a real hero,” her dad said.

  “Which makes the other thing just so ridiculous,” her mom lamented.

  “What other thing?” Tilda asked.

  Her parents exchanged a look. “Nothing you need to worry about right now,” her dad said. “You need to focus on Josh.”

  She wanted to argue that it might do her good to focus on something else, but she knew they would be empty words. Her head was mush right now. “Blaine was going to take a satellite phone, since cell-phone coverage is very spotty in the mountains. Still, we may not hear anything right away, but when I do, I will call you. I promise,” she added, standing up.

  Her mom hugged her. “Honey, is there anything we can do?”

  “Maybe pray,” Tilda said. Then she walked out of her parents’ house, got into her car and started to cry.

  How she got herself home she wasn’t sure. But ten minutes later, she pulled into her driveway and raised the garage door. Then it was into the house. She made sure her phone was set to ring, and she placed it on the coffee table. She heated up water for tea and opened up a box of cookies. She had not had dinner but knew that she’d be hard-pressed to get much down.

  After five cookies and two cups of tea, she reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out the papers that she’d been intending to grade. She had to do something, and this was better than staring at the walls.

  An hour later, she was half done. She sat the stack aside and stretched. Checked her phone. She’d been doing that every ten minutes. Still no word from Blaine.

  She could hear the wind blowing and knew that it was likely a wicked night on the mountains. Probably nobody better. That’s what her dad had said about Blaine looking for Josh. And for the first time, she was very, very grateful that Blaine had been there.

  He had not hesitated to help.

  Maybe he wouldn’t have hesitated thirteen years ago, either, if you’d told him the truth. She could hear the words in her head. Knew that they were true. But that was the thing about life. You didn’t get to do any reruns. Decisions made and acted upon were done. Finished.

  However, amends could be made.

  Please, please, God. Give me the chance to make amends. To Blaine. To his family. Especially to Josh. My baby. “Be safe,” she whispered. “Wherever you are. Be safe.”

  She closed her eyes. And must have dozed off, because a sharp knock at the door had her jumping off her couch. She grabbed her phone to see if there were missed calls or messages. None. And it was almost nine thirty. Who could be at her door?

  There was another knock. “Tilda, it’s Mara Colton.”

  Had Blaine somehow gotten news to her? Tilda whipped open the door. Looked past Mara, hoping against hope that Josh was somehow there. But she was alone.

  “Any news?” Mara asked, proving that she was in the loop.

  Tilda shook her head.

  “May I come in?”

  Tilda stepped back, making space. “Of course,” she said, feeling awkward.

  Mara closed the door behind her and then took off her coat, gloves and scarf. She draped them over the back of a kitchen chair. Tilda knew she should offer to hang them, but her brain had stalled.

  Mara Colton was
in her living room! And it appeared that she was planning on staying.

  “I wondered if you might be at your parents’ house,” Mara said.

  “I needed to be here.” In Josh’s house, with his things.

  “Your home is lovely,” Mara murmured.

  Tilda did love it, but she knew it was meager in comparison to what Mara was used to. She said nothing.

  Mara sat in the chair across from the couch where papers were still spread. She folded her hands in her lap. “I didn’t think you should be alone, dear.”

  And that was all it took for Tilda to lose it. All the emotions she’d kept bottled inside flooded out. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she lowered her face into her raised hands.

  She felt a pat on her back. Mara had moved from the chair to the couch.

  Tilda raised her head, turned to look at the woman. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

  “Don’t apologize,” Mara said. “I’m sure it’s been very difficult. But know this, Tilda. Even though I’ve only met Josh once, I have a feeling that he’s a very smart boy, capable of making really good decisions. And I raised his father. Who was the most determined and self-directed child you could meet. He set a goal, and he achieved it. And tonight, Blaine’s goal is to find his son and bring him home safely. It will happen.”

  Mara got up and moved back to her chair. “Now, tell me. Is that tea that you’re drinking?”

  * * *

  Blaine had been skiing, walking, half crawling: whatever it took to stay upright and moving, for over an hour. He’d slipped once and caught the side of his leg on a tree, and he suspected he was going to have a hell of a bruise. Every time he’d stopped, he’d checked his compass, to make sure that he was still on course, and shined his powerful flashlight into the distance, attempting to locate the cabin.

  And now, southwest, about two hundred yards out, was his destination. It was a dark little square on the horizon. He pushed himself even harder, skiing up to within feet of the door. He pointed his headlamp toward the ground, looking for footprints. If there had been any, they’d been long erased by the blowing snow. And there were no skis and boots hanging out by the door. That didn’t scare him. If Josh had been thinking, he’d have taken everything inside with him, not wanting to lose anything in the storm. Blaine took off his own skis and tucked them under one arm.