High-Stakes Blizzard
Autor:in
Rebecca Hopewell
Gelesen
18,1K
Kapitel
15
Pursued through a snowstorm… Will they live to find the truth? Rain Jordan doesn't know what really happened during her troubled brother's final days. But someone is hunting her and her dog, Maple, through a ferocious mountain blizzard. Rain's only hope is her firefighter ex, David Hernandez, who's determined to protect his heart this time. Together, they must battle killer conditions and lethal surprises… even if survival threatens to separate them for good.
Chapter One
Rain Jordan belonged in the mountains. She thrived in their complicated beauty, their indomitable obstacles. It was the place she found it easiest to believe that the world made sense.
The landscape in front of her was covered in a blanket of snow, with granite boulders and clumps of evergreens jutting out of the frozen landscape. Even if she couldn’t see the path, Rain knew how to navigate this mountain, between boulders and through stands of trees, up to the ridge. She snowshoed through the white drifts, and Maple followed in the path of her footprints, her paws sinking into the snow with each playful jump. The snow muted the rustle of the trees and the buzz of a snowmobile in the distance. The loudest sounds were her own breaths and the scrape of her jacket and snow pants each time she took a step.
“Getting tired, girl?” she said over her shoulder. Maple panted back at her, wagging her tail. The German shepherd she’d inherited from her brother, Brandon, seemed to thrive out here in the wilderness just as much as Rain did.
These woods used to be her second home. During the summers, Rain, Brandon and their parents had walked every trail, exploring every edible plant, every mountain stream, every shelter option. During the winters, they’d follow the animal tracks, making their way through the snow-topped trees—sometimes on skis, sometimes on snowshoes—to see the endless views of the Tahoe Wilderness cloaked in white. The mountains held secrets, hidden away from the world but there for anyone who ventured in. For those who knew where to look.
But all those memories were clouded by the night a drunk driver had collided with her parents’ car when Rain was eighteen, leaving her and her older brother alone. Only the forest and their cabin on Crystal Lake tied them to their childhood. It had never been enough. The emptiness that night had left lingered inside her, heavy and hollow.
In the first year after their parents’ deaths, Rain had worried about how defeated Brandon had seemed as the bills piled up. First they’d sold their parents’ house, but the second mortgage on it meant they’d barely broken even. Then Brandon floated the idea of selling their cabin, but she’d put her foot down. There had to be another way. They’d argued until he dropped the subject. But he’d gotten more secretive, and when she’d tried to talk to him about the money, he’d said he had a solution. She’d tried to trust him, but more than once, she’d caught him looking over his shoulder when they were out, like he suspected someone was watching him. Now Brandon was gone, too.
Rain continued up the snowy mountain, thinking about all the reasons her brother had come up this path to the ridge seven months ago. Maybe it was a sentimental whim, or maybe he’d had a plan. Her brother always had plans. But why hadn’t he taken Maple with him? The dog followed him everywhere when they were at their cabin. Even harder to understand was how he could have fallen from the ridge and disappeared from her life forever. He knew the mountain even better than she did, and she’d never make this mistake.
But after seven months, Rain was done asking these questions. She had to accept God’s plan for her. She really wanted to, but when so much had gone wrong, doing so was hard. Still, she’d inherited Maple, a ray of light in all the darkness. It was time to make peace with Brandon’s death.
Rain looked up at the dark, heavy clouds blowing in from the north. A storm was coming, and the news had predicted up to three more feet of new snow during the next two days. She’d told herself that was why she’d dumped her bags in the front hall when she arrived and headed out immediately, without even taking off her boots—she wanted to beat the storm. But that wasn’t the whole truth. Even after seven months, it was still painful to face her family cabin alone. All the memories this cabin held were now hers alone.
But she was ready to face the place again... At least, she hoped she was, especially since the blizzard was predicted to blanket the Sierra Nevadas. It would bury the road, and the plows wouldn’t make their way up to Crystal Lake for days, leaving the handful of cabins in the area stranded. But the cabin was always stocked with extra supplies of food, propane and firewood, and if she needed anything, she’d seen David Hernandez’s search and rescue truck at his family’s cabin on her drive in. Not that going over there was a good option. Rain swallowed the inevitable rush of feelings that came when that name went through her mind. David Hernandez was no longer part of her life, and there was no use thinking about the past.
Instead, Rain focused on the blue sky disappearing between the clouds and the ridge where her brother had fallen. She was ready to crest the ridge, find a way to say goodbye and move forward, even though it meant she and Maple would be spending this week alone, snowed in.
After a few hundred feet of climbing, Rain neared the highest lookout that was accessible without climbing gear. The trail ended along a narrow ridge overlooking the valley of trees and rocky peaks. Crystal Ridge, their family had called it, though the name probably wasn’t official. In the distance, the little town of Clover Valley peeked through the evergreens, with the gas station at one end, the general store rising up in the middle and the little urgent care center at the other end. She took a few more steps, then stopped. Why had her brother come here, then walked too close to the edge? It was a mystery, but she was letting that go, too.
She took a step toward the precipice, where Brandon had fallen. It was time. She unzipped her pocket and pulled out a letter she’d written to him the first time he’d run away, many years ago. She kissed the carefully folded paper and let the wind take it away.
“Goodbye,” she whispered as it floated out into the snowy air.
She had expected to feel different in that moment, to get some sort of relief, but she felt the same. Maybe even emptier. Rain frowned and took another step. Maple nosed her hand in warning.
“It’s okay, girl,” she said, stroking the dog’s muzzle. “I’m not going any closer.”
Rain gazed down at the rocky ledge where her brother had landed, twenty yards or so below. It was their cookout ledge. During those summers years ago, she, Brandon, David and his sister, Isabel, had trekked over the summit, following the base of the granite peaks so they could cook out on that landing. The path up to that ledge was hidden between large boulders. The place had always felt like it was just theirs, a cove protected from the wind by the stand of white firs on one side and one of the deep caves that ran under the summit on the other. If only there had been early snow, his fall might have been cushioned. If only Brandon had fallen a few yards over, one of the enormous firs might have broken—
The sharp sound of a snowmobile’s motor broke into her thoughts. It buzzed loudly and then cut out. Someone was close. Another gust of wind blew up the mountainside, and Maple let out a low growl. During the seven months they’d been together, Rain had never heard Maple growl. Ever. She turned and scanned the trail behind them, where the dog was aiming her warning, but nothing appeared. One quick glance at her phone made her heart kick up in her chest: from where she was standing, she was out of cell range.
When she looked up again, a man stepped out from behind the granite wall of the summit, his boots sinking into the deep snow. Rain sized him up: a black hat, reflective ski goggles, black snow pants and a black coat with a bright blue insignia on the breast she couldn’t quite make out. Something about the way he seemed to silently focus on her felt menacing. He wasn’t wearing snowshoes, so at least she could move faster than he could on foot. When he got back on his snowmobile, he had the upper hand by far. The man’s gaze darted between her and Maple. He slowly approached them, then came to a stop a few yards away. Maple was close and on high alert, tail down, and another low growl escaped through her teeth.
“Stay,” she said quietly.
“Brandon’s sister, right? Rain.” It sounded more like a statement than a question, and Rain’s heart gave a startled thud. Why did this man know who she was? “He said the shipment was up here at your cabin, but we’ve searched everywhere. I knew you’d come back for it, sooner or later.”
Rain’s heart pounded in her chest. What was he talking about? Her instincts were telling her to run, but how was she supposed to escape on foot from a man on a snowmobile? Then there was the part of her that had wondered about her brother’s death for the past seven months. That part of her wasn’t ready to run away yet. Maybe she had been right all along. Brandon’s death hadn’t been an accident. Her heart jumped at the possibility that she might find the answers she was searching for.
Rain kept her expression neutral and returned the man’s steady gaze. “What do you know about my brother?”
The guy ignored her question. “I’m here to make you a deal. We’re willing to give you the same price, even though you didn’t bring them over the Nevada line.”
We? Bring them over the Nevada line? Fear pumped through her as these words sunk in. She had tried so hard not to assume the worst, but these ominous words suggested Brandon had gotten into something bad. What was it?
The man took a step toward her, and a chill ran through her body as she raced to piece together the situation. He’d been watching her, waiting for her. He thought she had something he needed. Rain pushed away her fear, trying to figure out her next move.
Maple growled louder this time, and the man pulled out a gun from inside his jacket. “I’ll shoot that dog if I need to.”
Rain’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at his gun. No. She couldn’t lose Maple. She had lost too much already.
“Go home, Maple,” she said, pointing to the path down the mountain. “Go to the cabin.”
The dog didn’t move, just looked up at her, her eyes dark and attentive. Rain pleaded with her gaze. You can’t get hurt. You’re all I have left.
“Go on,” she said, trying not to let her voice shake. “I’ll be there soon.”
Maple eyed her warily, then started back along the path, passing the man with her teeth bared, until she disappeared behind the granite wall. Rain took a steadying breath. What was her next move? The snow was deep enough that she’d be able to outmaneuver the guy in her snowshoes, but he had a gun and a snowmobile, making that option moot. Either she had to figure out how to disarm this guy, or she had to find a way to escape. Quickly. Behind her was the end of the path, and to one side was the summit rock. On the other side was the cliff. Rain took a step back.
“Stop.” His voice was louder, angrier. “You’re not going anywhere. Where are they?”
Her breath caught in her throat. Everything he’d said made her suspect he was involved in Brandon’s death. The rigid jaw, the sharpness of his voice, the gun he gripped—it all suggested he wouldn’t hesitate to use violence on her.
The man must have read the fear on her face. “All you have to do is tell me where they are.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Desperation seeped into her voice. “I don’t even know who you are. So we can both just walk away.”
The man shook his head. “Not a chance. Your brother screwed us over. We need that other half of our stash, and you’re going to get it for us.”
“But I don’t know where it is.”
The man didn’t answer, and she was pretty sure he didn’t believe her. It occurred to Rain that he’d likely been waiting for this moment since Brandon died. If he got hold of her, she was almost sure that this would end disastrously.
Rain glanced down the sheer drop off the edge of the ridge again. She was not going to die the same way Brandon did. She eyed the tall firs below, covered with snow, the ones she’d wished her brother had fallen into. They were her only chance. She couldn’t wait for this man to catch her off guard. She had to willingly jump to make it those few extra feet if she had any hope of hitting them.
Can I make myself jump?
She took a step toward the ledge. Another.
The man raised his gun, pointing it at her. “I’m not letting this go.”
Please, God, help me get this right.
Rain took a deep breath. She turned to the edge, focusing on the tips of the firs, and forced herself to jump out as far as she could.
Her mind went blank as her body dropped through the cold air, the tree whizzing toward her until she hit it. Needles scraped her face as she grasped for the branches that slipped through her gloves. She tumbled, bouncing forward into another tree. Limbs cracked as she hit them with her shins, her back, her stomach. One of her snowshoes twisted, and the other caught, suspending her for a moment before it released with a sharp snap. A mess of green and brown and white was falling everywhere around her. Her thoughts kicked in at the last minute, and she remembered to curl up and tuck her head.
Rain hit the snowy ground with a hard thud that took her breath away. Branches and clumps of snow from the trees followed, covering her. She scrambled to move, caught under a tree limb as more snow buried her. She clawed at the heavy load, struggling to orient herself. Getting her feet under her, then her knees, she dug desperately with her hands, her heart pounding in her chest.
Help me, Lord.
She pushed up with one foot, moving the snow out of the way in this tiny cave that had formed, until she broke through. The cold wind came rushing in. She had made it. She was alive. Thank God. Rain patted herself down, checking for injuries. Her ribs were sore but okay, and she could move the arm she had fallen on without pain. Both snowshoes were gone, and one ankle was throbbing, but her pack was still on her back. She’d escaped and survived...so far.
Rain looked up between the trees and saw the man staring down at her. He knew she was alive. He looked around, like he was assessing how to get to where she was.
“I’ll find you,” he called down to her. “You have until noon tomorrow to settle this with me, or...”
He let the words hang in the air, then turned around and disappeared. What would he do if he didn’t get what he was looking for? The thought of Maple waiting for her at the cabin gave her a new jolt of fear. She heard the whiny buzz of the snowmobile again. Was he still coming for her?
If you know how to be invisible in the forest, you have time. Her father’s voice was a balm, a reminder to wait, to take her time, and Rain had just bought herself a little more of that time. This side of the mountain was much steeper and less accessible on a snowmobile, especially for someone unfamiliar with the terrain, and the path to their cookout ledge was almost impossible to find. But snow was starting to fall. The storm was coming in, bringing wind and a few more feet of snow. How could she make it back to her cabin with a twisted ankle and no snowshoes?
After the rush of adrenaline from these last minutes, her body was shutting down. Rain knew all the signs, but she was tired, so tired, and for just one long moment, she wanted to lie back in the snow and go to sleep, despite all the dangers. But when she closed her eyes she saw Maple, sitting on the porch of the cabin. Rain was all that Maple had. If she didn’t find her way back, her dog would spend the night outside, waiting...or worse. She wouldn’t make it in these temperatures.
The buzz of the snowmobile grew louder, then dimmed again. How long did she have before he found her? She was on the other side of the mountain now, and even if he crossed the summit pass, the entrance path to the cookout ledge was hard to find. But the man had a snowmobile, which gave him speed, and though the mountain was steep on this side, if he found the entrance he’d trap her here. That would force her into the caves, which were far too small for her comfort.
Rain took a deep breath and wrestled the pack off her back, then unzipped it clumsily, unwilling to take off her gloves and expose her hands. First, she needed energy. Rain unscrewed the thermos cap and took a long gulp of hot chocolate. The warmth trailed down her throat, spreading through her body. She reached in the bag for a few handfuls of trail mix and washed them down with another drink of hot chocolate. She rested her injured ankle on a branch, slightly elevated, and took a deep, calming breath. Think through the pain. Take your time. Memories of her father’s soothing voice whispered to her through the trees.
She had a phone with her, but the chances of reception were slim...if the cell towers were still working. She couldn’t count on that in a storm. Even if she did reach 911, and even on the off chance someone on the team knew this area of the wilderness enough to find her, they wouldn’t make it up here before the storm. Crystal Lake was too high up the mountain, too far away from town.
But there was someone else close by. Someone who knew this mountain just as well as she did. David Hernandez. As much as it would hurt to call him, hurt to hear his voice again, she knew he would come, despite the danger. Despite the ways she’d caused him pain. He couldn’t help it—that was just who he was. She knew this part of him so well. After all, it was why she had ended their engagement all those years ago.
Calling him could put him in danger. But snowmobiles were clumsy, announcing their arrival for miles. And if she warned David, he could stay out of sight of the man with the gun. Of course, this was all assuming he’d answer her call.
She pawed around for her phone and looked for the reception. One little bar flickered in the top corner. Quickly, she scrolled through her contacts until she found the one she should have deleted five years ago. She pressed it and waited. After a few long moments of silence, the call connected.
“Rain?” He sounded confused, which was fair. They hadn’t talked since the day she’d returned the ring.
She pushed away all the memories his voice threatened to unearth.
“Yes, it’s me,” she said, making sure her voice didn’t shake. “Please. I need your help.”
David Hernandez’s skis slid through the snow, making parallel tracks behind the path of the rescue sled he was pushing. The road was covered in a fresh layer of powder, and more was coming down quickly, covering the orange rescue bag and the first aid pack. He was hoping he didn’t have to use either of these items, but from the few words he’d heard through the phone from Rain before the call dropped off entirely, it didn’t look good.
“Our old cookout ledge...my ankle...maple coming...man with a gun.”
Only one of those snips of information was clear, the cookout ledge. The mention of her ankle left him wondering if she was hurt. He had no idea what to do with the third phrase he’d heard. Did maples even grow at this elevation? With each stride, he turned the words maple coming, over in his mind, mostly so that he didn’t think about the last thing she’d said. A man with a gun. His entire body had frozen when he heard those words.
David was used to danger, and he worked well in frightening situations. It was why he’d become a firefighter: he was willing to do whatever it took to save lives. It wasn’t that he was fearless. He had a healthy amount of fear, which had saved him dozens of times. It was just that, in the face of fear, his instinct was to act. But when Rain spoke those words, for the first time he could remember, fear threatened to overwhelm him. What if I can’t help Rain in time?
So he had left his sister back at the cabin without much explanation except that he needed to make a rescue. Isabel was used to that. David already had used the rescue sled twice this winter on his days off. He hoped this wouldn’t be his third. He didn’t tell Isabel that Rain had been on the other end of the phone call, because he didn’t need to hear his sister’s warnings. They were already clanging in his head the moment he picked up the call.
You can’t trust her.
The sky was dumping snow as he turned off the road to the buried trail that led up the mountain. The wind was starting to pick up, which meant visibility was going down. Someone was up there with a snowmobile, which didn’t strike David as a great idea, considering the conditions. Then again, he was heading up the mountain on skis to rescue the woman who had left him, so he wasn’t anyone to judge.
David pushed the sled up the hill formed by the snowplow. As he turned, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He froze, Rain’s warning about a man with a gun ringing in his ears. He scanned the blurry white landscape and spotted...a dog? It was a big one, a German shepherd, mostly brown with just a little black around the face, and it was hopping through the snow, toward him. Strange. Who would let a dog wander around in this weather? Was it lost? There were only a few cabins out here, most of them on the other side of Crystal Lake, and the campground was buried in the snow.
The dog came closer. Its tail wasn’t wagging, but it was up, like it was curious. David took off his glove and put his hand out, and the dog came closer and sniffed it, then gave it a little nuzzle. The dog seemed to be happy to see him. At any other time, he’d turn back and take it home, but Rain needed help.
“Sorry, buddy,” he said, stroking the dog’s head. “I’d help you out, but I need to go.”
He unsnapped his pocket and stuffed his hand inside, pulling out his various food options. Peanuts? No. Maybe the dried jerky his neighbor had made... David wasn’t sure if this qualified as dog food, but a dog out in a snowstorm wouldn’t survive long, so he decided to risk it. He dug some jerky out of the bag, and the dog gobbled it up, so he gave it a little more.
“I really have to go,” he said, scratching the dog under its collar. The collar. This dog probably had tags with its owner’s number on it. He scratched the dog’s neck again, then reached around to pull up the buckle side of the collar. He turned over the silver charm in his glove.
Maple.
The word he’d heard on the phone made sense. Maple wasn’t a tree he was supposed to look for. It was a dog out wandering, missing its owner. Rain’s dog. It must be. How had it found its way out here on its own when Rain was on the other side of the summit? He couldn’t leave it behind. Maybe Maple could even help him find Rain.
David skied up to the sled and patted the orange insolated layer strapped on top.
“Hey, Maple. Come on up.” The dog wagged her tail at the sound of her name and hopped onto the sled. So far, so good. “Lie down.”
Maple settled on the orange blanket, facing David. Good enough.
David started up the covered mountain path, pushing the sled. The dog was welcome resistance as he made the uphill climb. Physical exercise helped settle him in urgent situations, letting him think. Besides, with the amount of work he had in front of him, the cold was better than the heat. During the summers, he and his team carried heavy packs through the blazing heat of the California summers to fight the forest fires that had been running rampant in the West in recent years.
They moved up the switchback path as the noise of the snowmobile grew louder, somewhere out of sight. Just after they passed the place where the buried path split, Maple jumped off the sled and headed the wrong way, toward Crystal Ridge. The prints all went in that direction, too.
“Where are you going, Maple?” he called.
The dog stopped and looked over its shoulder but didn’t turn around.
Rain had referred to the old cookout ledge, but Maple wanted to follow a different path. Though the ridge was above the cookout ledge, both were accessed from opposite sides of the summit’s tall, granite peaks. Strange. David was under the impression dogs had a knack for tracking. Did Maple get this wrong, or did the dog know more than he did? Either he trusted this dog’s instincts, or he trusted what he’d heard from Rain.
“I have to try this way first. But I hear you. I’ll keep that route in mind.” David gave a wry laugh at his effort to explain it all to a dog who had no idea what he was saying. He tried again. “Come here. Let’s get Rain.”
Maple looked up the trail one more time, then back at him. Finally, the dog turned around and came to the sled.
“Good girl...or boy,” he said, offering her some more jerky. The dog gobbled it up.
The wind was picking up as he climbed the last stretch, and the closer he got to the summit ridge, the harder it was to see where he was going. As he worked his way up, he searched for reasons why Maple might have wanted to go toward the ridge. Maybe Rain had taken that path first. After all, her brother had died falling from that ridge. The idea of her up there alone, looking down, made his gut twist. Just because their relationship had ended badly didn’t mean the feelings just stopped. They lingered, coming out at unexpected times.
The wind lashed his exposed skin as they reached the summit pass, the sheer granite face rising up on one side, the precipitous drop on the other. It was narrow and icy, so he stuck close to the granite wall, following the animal tracks that poked through the deep snow. The wind was strongest up here, whipping fat flakes at his cheeks as he continued along the pass and down the other side, searching for signs of the entrance to the cookout ledge. It looked like another of the many caves, the entrance formed by two boulders, but a step into the crevice revealed an opening to the ledge, sheltered from the wind. It was their own little cove, or at least it had been all those years ago. He continued down, sticking as close to the cliffs as he could. Too close and he’d get lost in the wrong jumble of boulders, but too far and he’d miss the entrance entirely. David slowed the sled, scanning the mountain through the blowing snow. Finally, he spotted the familiar double pines that stood just before the entrance. He pushed aside all the memories that this place threatened to bring back and steered the sled toward the cave. There was a dusting of snow in the passage, just enough to cushion the sled. Maple’s ears perked as they entered, and she started to get up.
“Stay,” he said. “We’re almost there.”
The dog turned around on the sled but stayed on. He pushed the sled up the bank of snow onto the ledge. He’d made it. David headed straight for the entrance to the low cave in the middle. They’d escaped a storm in there more than once, so he’d assumed Rain would take shelter here. He peered in, but it was empty.
“Rain? Where are you?” His voice didn’t travel far in this wind.
David’s fear came back with a vengeance. He looked around for tracks, but the snow was pristine, untouched. Something was wrong. Had the man with the gun found her before she made it to the ledge?
“Rain?” He could hear a hint of desperation in his voice. How was he supposed to find her? Please, God, let her be okay. David hadn’t prayed in years, but the words came to him anyway.
His heart leaped as Maple jumped off the sled and headed for the trees ahead, bounding through the deep snow. The dog disappeared in between them.
“Maple?”
She didn’t come, so he followed the dog’s tracks, leading into the trees. He left his sled and continued, brushing the branches out of his way.
In front of him, he found Rain in a cocoon of snow and branches, and Maple was in it, too, licking her face.
“David. You came.” Rain looked up and gave him a smile that took his breath away. “And you found Maple, too.”
