Sam's Folly (Midnight Sons Book 1)

by Carmen DeSousa

  Sam submitted to Arwen’s direction. After all, she’d never been wrong. “Looks like we’re hiking through the night, Arwen. Nora might find herself in a lot of trouble after all.”

  Not really smart to take that trail. Even though the low-altitude hike seemed easier, it wasn’t. There were more rocks to traverse, cliffs, and worse: because there was a large source of water and less humans, there were also more wolves and grizzlies.

  ~ Nora ~

  POP!

  Nora awoke to the hollow sound … the suppressed gunshot she heard nightly. Her mouth went dry. Her skin broke out in a sweat, even though it was close to freezing. Her eyes snapped open, and just in case she hadn’t imagined the stifled round, she scanned her surroundings.

  “No echo,” she whispered, as if to convince herself that she was safe. To assure her less-confident self that Sergio hadn’t found her.

  She exhaled sharply. In this valley, if it had been a real gunshot, she would have heard it over and over as the sound bounced off the mountains and back again. Just like when her father had taken her shooting when she was a child.

  Nora stared off to the east. The sun was already coming up — again. Less than six hours of darkness right now. Even nightfall wasn’t complete darkness. More like twilight. The moment the glow disappeared from the horizon, it seemed it was coming up again. Actually, she probably wasn’t even staring east, but northeast. She missed the darkened sky, where she could gaze up at the stars and moon. Something about a full moon always made her feel alive, as though it was a new day — or rather, night. A new night that she could sneak away from her life.

  Then again, living in L.A. for seven years had made seeing the moon and stars nearly impossible anyway. She wondered what the winter would be like in Alaska. If she’d enjoy being able to see the stars nightly … and the northern lights. But no, if all went according to plan, she’d be in Central America by summer’s end.

  “Well, it’s time to get up, Nora.” She stuffed her feet into her Crocs and rolled her legs out of the hammock. “I should have adopted a dog.”

  A rustling on the ground caught her attention. A squirrel, mostly gray with spots of cinnamon and just over a foot long, peered at her from behind a tree. He pressed his entire body to the ground as he glided through the bushes, his tail twitching up every couple seconds.

  Nora laughed. “Sorry, friend. It wouldn’t be fair for me to feed you and befriend you, because if I can’t catch fish, I might have to settle for you.”

  She ignored the furry creature, even though she’d love to have his company. Feeding him would also alert him to her food, and she didn’t need him gnawing through her sack looking for snacks. Instead, she pulled out her Bunsen burner and heated water for instant oatmeal and coffee.

  She could literally kiss whichever Starbucks exec invented their instant coffee packets. They tasted great and didn’t take up much room. Coffee was her one luxury on this trip. Without a doubt, if she were ever chosen for Survivor, and she was allowed one indulgence, it would be coffee.

  After her daily fiber dose and caffeine jolt, Nora laced up her boots. Her feet were still tender, but she wasn’t about to hike down to the lake in Crocs. That would just be asking for trouble. She gathered up her fishing pole and the lure the local had suggested. The ultralight collapsible rod weighed in at less than thirteen ounces. Not too much unless you were carrying something as heavy as a can of ravioli around for weeks. But her thought was that she’d eat away her food daily, and if she could actually catch some grayling or trout, she could pack less food when she reached Fairbanks. She wasn’t sure if she would catch anything, but it would give her something to do.

  She packed up her campsite so no curious squirrels would get into her stuff, but left everything. After all, she was way above the hiking path, out of the way if anyone walked by.

  Nora made her way down to one of the few lakes that was good for fishing in Denali. According to her research, most had too much silt.

  Sun streamed through the birch and pine trees. Nothing but green and snowcapped mountains as far as she could see.

  “Snowshoes in May!” She could curse Sam for insisting hikers needed snowshoes in May. They took up more room than anything else. Even though they were on the outside of the pack, they were just a hindrance. She had a good mind to use them as kindling for this evening’s fire.

  Cast after cast, and slow reel after slow reel, Nora felt foolish. She’d have a better chance trying to catch one of the ducks that had landed on the opposite side of the lake. She did as instructed, moving the jig farther downstream, searching for a hole. She directed the fly toward some woody debris, but cast the line carefully. The last thing she wanted was to lose one of her few lures. As if she could catch a fish —

  “Oh!” The line jerked. She gently set the hook the way her father had taught her. The rod arched. She’d hooked him. “I got one! I got one. I can’t believe I got one!” She stepped across the stones, walking to the water’s edge. She held the line taut as she reeled in her catch. As the fish got closer to shore, it broke the surface, splashing. Its fins slashed the water repeatedly. Normally she’d release while still in the water, but after five days of nothing but protein bars, rice, and oatmeal, she was hoping for some real food. Tasty food at that.

  The grayling was just over a foot long.

  “Perfect!”

  Another splash of water drew her attention. She stared into deep sable eyes, then slumped into a deep crouch, dropping her rod.

  Chapter 7

  ~ Sam ~

  Sam had only slept a few hours when Arwen woke him … with her wet nose.

  “Arwen,” he groaned, but she was right; they needed to get going. He hadn’t unpacked anything but his sleeping bag, so he rolled it up and returned it to its spot. Instead of taking the time to set up his burner, he washed down two caffeine pills with a bottleful of Liquid I.V. He added another packet of the powdered drink mix to his Nalgene bottle, tore open a protein bar, and was ready to go.

  Arwen greedily scarfed down her kibble before Sam took a bite of his breakfast. “Strider’s not here, baby, and I’d have to be pretty hungry to steal your dog chow.” She lapped up the water he poured her, then spun in circles.

  “Ready, girl?” She refused to take care of business while leashed. He unhooked her, and she ran off just far enough to take care of nature’s calling. Knowing she was shy, Sam walked in the opposite direction.

  He strapped on her pack, and they hit the trail.

  Unlike the previous day, he allowed her to traverse the short hill unleashed. They were far enough into the park that it was unlikely they’d come across other hikers, and even if they did, most hikers didn’t care. Worst thing Arwen would do is lick them to death. Unless he gave her a German command to bite, which he’d unwillingly practiced with her plastic toy. But it had to be done. They were involved in too many rescues, and he knew the day might come when he needed her for more than tracking. So once a day, he spent an hour with Strider and Arwen, reminding them of all their commands.

  “Here you go, girl. Tsuuk!” Sam held Nora’s gloves out for Arwen’s inspection again. As before, she bobbed her head, sniffing. She moved to the path, back and forth, then off the path a couple feet. A couple hundred yards farther, she charged up the slope a few yards, then came back down again.

  Catching a scent, Arwen barreled forward.

  “Arwen!” Sam took off, attempting to keep up with the sinewy beast. A hundred pounds of solid muscle, she could outrun even her brother. At thirty-plus miles-an-hour and a lot more stamina, she could outrun a bear. “Nein! That’s it for you, young lady! No more freedom. Not until you learn to stay by my side. Hier!”

  Sam dropped his pack and charged after her. The last thing he wanted was for her to get tangled up with a porcupine.

  Arwen’s barks filled the air. At least she hadn’t strayed from the path. She was heading for the lake.

  Sam broke through the trees and stopped. What had
he been thinking leaving his gun?

  Grrrrrr … Arwen stood, hackles raised, head lowered, directly between Nora and a 600-pound grizzly. The bear’s massive humped back was lowered, though. He didn’t want a fight; he wanted the fish flopping at the water’s edge.

  “Easy, girl.” Sam edged behind Arwen, making his way to Nora. Behind her, he inched his hands beneath her arms and nudged her up. “Slowly,” he whispered. “Back up with me. The bear wants the fish, not you.”

  A small whimper escaped Nora’s throat, but she backed up with him as Arwen continued to growl, keeping herself planted squarely between them and the massive bear.

  Sam backed Nora up the bank. “He doesn’t want to challenge us. Arwen,” Sam said calmly, “Hier, girl.” Thankfully, she backed up, but not without offering the bear a final woof!

  “Oh my God,” Nora gasped softly. “Sam … Oh, God. Sam.”

  “We’re not out of the woods yet, honey. Keep backing up with me, okay?”

  Nora nodded, allowing him to pull her back up the path. The bear ignored them, lumbering toward the fish.

  Arwen continued to snuffle and grunt as she stood guard between them and the bear.

  “So ist brav, Arwen,” Sam cooed, praising her, hoping she wouldn’t dart after the grizzly. Her hackles still stood on end. “Where’s your bear spray, Nora?”

  Nora pointed up. “At … camp.”

  He sighed. “It’s okay. Just keep backing up with me. My pack is a few yards up the trail.”

  She clutched his hands, pulling his arms tighter around her. A ragged breath escaped her throat. “Will he chase us?”

  “I don’t think so. He just wanted breakfast. And he probably assumed you wouldn’t mind sharing, since most humans drop their fish when a bear approaches.”

  A half-cry, half-laugh trembled from her throat. “Not funny, Sam.”

  He exhaled loudly. “No, it’s not.” At his pack, he turned her toward him. “What were you thinking? Going to the lake without bear spray. Fishing, without bear spray! You might as well have rung the dinner bell.”

  Nora pushed his chest. “Where was your bear spray, Sam?” she growled, the decibel so low he barely heard her. She immediately turned so she could see down the path, but then darted past him, walking backward.

  “Where’re you going?”

  She pointed up again. “To get my bear — man spray.”

  Sam ignored her man spray comment and hefted his pack to his back. “You left your entire pack?”

  Nora offered him a quick turn of her head, another glare. “You left yours.”

  “That’s because my dog ran off … to protect you.”

  Nora turned and stopped, then stooped down. She beckoned the dog with an outstretched hand, fingers lowered. “Thank you, girl. What a good girl you are.”

  Arwen approached her slowly, then immediately shoved her head beneath Nora’s hand, accepting her praise.

  Nora rubbed Arwen’s neck, continuing to whisper praises. Then she looked up, narrowed her eyes, and took off up the hill.

  “Hey!” Sam shook his head. “That’s the thanks I get?”

  Nora didn’t look back, just continued to climb. “I thanked Arwen. She’s the one who stepped between me and a bear, and didn’t give me a ration of crap about it.”

  Arwen darted past him, past Nora, as if she knew where she was going.

  Sam charged up the hill. He had a pack that weighed fifty pounds, though, and Nora didn’t. Still, he wasn’t going to allow her to slip away again. Not now that he’d found her.

  A few hundred feet up, the ground leveled. Nora weaved her way past pines until she reached a flat area overlooking the lake. It was steep, so more than likely the bear wouldn’t come straight up if he saw them, but bears knew how to use switchbacks. He’d seen them at all altitudes. The larger ones, thankfully, seemed to prefer lower elevations … especially lakes and rivers.

  Sam stopped at the edge of what must be Nora’s camp. “What are you doing on this trail, Nora? Thought you were summiting Denali.”

  Ignoring him, she headed for her pack, pulled out the bear spray from one of the side pockets, and held it at her side. “What are you doing on this trail, Sam?”

  A sigh masked as a laugh tumbled out of his throat. “Is this how you fight, too? Match blow for blow?”

  She whipped around, facing him. Her bronze skin paled, even more than when she’d been face-to-face with a bear four times her size.

  Why would she be more upset that he knew she was a fighter? “Hmm … My brother told me … Guess he was right.”

  She folded her arms. “Why are you here, Sam? But more importantly, how did you know how to find me?”

  Sam lowered his pack and headed to a rotted-out log. He needed to rest. Other than the few hours of sleep, he’d been on his feet for a day and a half. “Mind if I sit? Minus a few hours, Arwen and I’ve hiked straight through.” Arwen had already spread herself out, all four limbs in different directions. Nora glanced over the ledge, obviously looking for the bear, but Sam didn’t concern himself. Arwen would warn him.

  Nora scanned the valley again, but then sat down on a bear canister similar to the one he’d instructed backpackers to carry. She didn’t say a word, just stared at him. Those green eyes analyzing and scrutinizing, summing him up, he suspected.

  He eyed her gear. Obviously, she’d packed for a long hike. “You signed for a three-week summit of Denali. Not smart to go off your itinerary; that’s how people get lost.”

  She heaved a sigh. “How do you know what I signed for?”

  “I lead a SAR team, remember?” He shrugged. “I knew where to find the information I wanted.”

  The area between her brows creased. But the expression was different from when she’d glared at him. She looked … concerned … worried. “Do they give out private information to anyone? That doesn’t seem right.”

  “No …” He chuckled to ease her discomfort. Why was she so alarmed? “Like I said, they know me. I didn’t even ask. I just looked at the records. Far as they knew, I was on a rescue. And I’m glad I did.”

  Nora shook her head again. “But if you thought I was summiting Denali, how did you find me here?”

  Even though it was barely fifty out, Sam’s face got hot. He’d never been good at lying, even simple fibs, which was why he’d immediately disclosed that he knew she was a fighter.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out her gloves. “Arwen’s an expert tracker.”

  Nora bounded from her makeshift seat. “Gimme those! I was looking for them. I had to buy new ones.”

  Sam hopped up, and as if she were a little kid, he lifted them out of her reach. “I tried to give them back to you, but the first night you ran out on me, and the second night, you stood me up.”

  Nora hopped once, reaching for the gloves, but then just stared up at him. “What are we, twelve?”

  Sam licked his lips, smiling. His heart raced as he stared down at the woman he could never deliver to another man. For a hundred thousand or even a million, he wouldn’t let her go without a fight. He lowered his arm, but draped it around her shoulder, pulling her against his body.

  Nora stepped forward. Her full lips, pink and wet, parted invitingly. She lifted her hands, resting them against his chest.

  Sam lowered his head, wanting to taste her. From the first time he’d seen her, he’d imagined what her lips would feel like —

  She snatched the gloves from his hand and pushed him back. He wobbled, attempted to get his footing, but the log directly behind his legs made it impossible.

  He went down and back, landing in a heap.

  Laughing now, Nora backed to the other side of the camp. “One. Two. Three.”

  Sam struggled as she counted. With his legs draped over the log and shrubbery popping beside him, it was darn near impossible to get up.

  Sensing the excitement, Arwen hopped up, barking along with Nora’s count, “Four. Five. Six.”

  Sam flopped over,
got to his knees.

  “Seven. Eight. Nine.”

  Before she reached ten, Sam stood. He spun, then charged. Wrapping her in a bear hug, he strapped her arms to her side. With a swipe of her legs, he lowered her to the soft ground, then pinned her. She bucked, but he held strong.

  Sam lowered his head to her ear. “I’m guessing you’re a kickboxer, not a wrestler.”

  “Wrong again.”

  Nora whipped her leg up and around his neck before he could blink. In seconds, she had him in a scissor hold.

  Beaten, Sam tapped the dirt three times. Sure, he could have gotten out of the hold — he’d wrestled his brothers more times than he could count — but not without hurting her.

  Nora released her hold, then smiled.

  Sam coughed. “Somehow, that’s not how I imagined our first roll on the ground would go.”

  ~ Nora ~

  Nora hopped to a squat, brushed herself off, then offered Sam her hand.

  Instead of allowing her to pull him up, he pulled her onto his lap. Once again, their lips were mere inches away.

  She touched her fingertips to his mouth. “You know, Sam. I’d put you in another hold, but your lap is the softest thing I’ve sat on for days.”

  He cleared his throat. “Continue those leg-over-the-head wrestling moves, and my lap might not be the softest place.”

  “Sam!” She crinkled her nose, wagging her finger. “And here I thought you were a good ol’ American boy.”

  “Not hardly.” He laughed. “American, sure. Through and through. Some might even call me a good ol’ boy. But if good is what you’re looking for, I wouldn’t call myself good by a long shot. Well, not good in the sense of doing things the right way. I’ve screwed up many things in my life. Other areas, though, I’ll let you decide …” He wrapped his hand around the back of her head, and this time, she didn’t fight him. She let him move her head directly where he wanted her. A breath away from her lips, he held back. “May I?”

  She gulped, appreciating that — while his grip was powerful — he’d requested her permission. “Yes …” Her lips parted, and Sam’s mouth covered hers. Surprisingly, he tasted like cinnamon. His lips moved over hers, and she turned on his lap, straddling him. He felt so good, so warm, so … She broke the kiss, staring down at him. Warmth filled her cheeks. Breathless, she rested her head against his forehead. “I guess … maybe … we should … get up.”