His Desire (Snowflake Falls Fire Department #5)
1. Poppy
Chapter One
POPPY
“That confirms it, folks. Our local climate super-predictor, Carl, has been telling us all for weeks that the big one’s coming. But now it’s confirmed by the weather service. We’re due the worst snowstorm in thirty years. Stay tuned for our tips after this stone-cold classic from Foreigner, Cold as Ice…”
My phone starts to ring and I snap off the radio.
“Poppy? Any news?” The shelter manager’s voice is anxious.
Sighing, I walk to stand by the window. “I’m sorry, Kimiko. Nothing. I’ve been out twice. I’m really worried about him out there in the storm.”
“Me too. And I appreciate you driving out here to get the treats. He’s such a fiend for them. It might just swing it if he smells them or hears you shaking the bag. I know it’s asking for a lot, but could you have a final look before the storm hits? I feel so bad that Scamp won’t get his happy ever after now.”
“Of course. I was going out anyway. I keep hoping I’ll hear him bark. You don’t think he’ll try and make his way back to the shelter, do you?”
“I sure hope not. Especially in this weather. I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed, okay? Text me if there’s any news.”
I put the phone on the desk, willing Scamp to appear bounding through the snow. Except there’s only a blanket of white outside, with the snow getting heavier by the second. It looks like a Christmas card, but that’s no comfort. My poor foster dog is out there alone in the cold.
Scamp’s the first dog I’ve lost. I foster shelter dogs to give them a chance to live in a home, rather than the shelter, before they’re adopted. Scamp was doing so well. Then he disappeared from the yard early this morning and I’ve been trying to find him all day.
I’m also behind on orders for my holiday decoration store. Fostering for the shelter doesn’t pay very well, so my side hustle is making ornaments and selling them online. This year I’ve had more orders than usual, so I’m frantically trying to juggle my free time getting everything done. Between the shelter, the ornaments and my parents, I have a lot on my plate.
I sit down at my desk and pick up the glittering globe. Silver and white glitter glistens as I turn it from side to side. Hand-painting it is delicate work and I’m squinting into the light when my phone rings again. I place it down gingerly.
“Hey sis, you back okay?” Mari’s voice is relaxed and happy. She got together with Dean, one of the guys from the firehouse, over the summer.
“Yeah. The roads were wild on the way back, but they’re keeping them plowed until the worst hits later.”
“What about Scamp?”
“No news. I hate to think of him out there in the cold. Alone.” My voice hitches.
“Hey, it’s okay Pops. Dogs are resilient. I bet he comes back when you least expect it.”
“What if he doesn’t? It’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault. You’re a great foster dog mom. That big pupper will come back, mark my words.”
A tear rolls down my cheek. I don’t cry easily. Scamp’s disappearance has shaken me. “I hope so. But he was going to be adopted tomorrow.”
“Hey, it’s okay Pops!”
“Well, I’m going to go look for him before the storm–”
“Wait, you’re going to what ?”
“Look for him. Before the storm hits.”
Mari’s voice is stern. “No, you’re not. Dean says it’s already fierce out there.”
“The worst hasn’t hit up here. And I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do a final search, okay?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I’ll text you when I’m back.”
“Seriously, Poppy. I don’t like the sound of you wandering around–”
“I’m not wandering. I know these mountains well. We’ve had bad storms before and I’ve always been fine. Don’t you remember when I fixed the generator?”
My sister laughs. “You tell me that story every three months or so. Do you promise to call me? Call , not text.”
“Yes. And stop worrying. I’ll go out before it gets dark.”
The light is just starting to fade when I trudge out to the back of my house and up the path through the forest. I’m bundled up, but the howling wind makes my teeth chatter.
Shaking the big bag of treats, I shout Scamp’s name. No response. The rising wind lifts my words and whips them away.
“Steakies!” I rattle the bag.
Snow is falling so thickly that the pines look like they’ve been double-dipped in white frosting. Further up the mountain, there’s a rustling noise under some greenery. Leaving the path, I struggle through the deep snow, the roar of the wind in my ears. Reaching a patch of holly bushes, overgrown and wild, I push through them.
The rustling sound is close by. My heart leaps.
“Scamp!” I call, breaking into a slow run. I’m nearly at the bushes when the wind blows a stray lock of hair out from under the hood of my coat. It glues itself to my eyes and I stop, trying to push it away. Once it’s dealt with, I step forward.
Skidding on a patch of ice, I fall over a buried log. Sucking in my breath at the sudden pain, I lay still. Snowflakes drop, whirling down from the sky onto my body. The sky is an eerie greenish-gray color.
Turning my head, I try to get my bearings. I’m near the crest of the mountain, but in all this whirling white, I’m not sure which way is which. I usually use the peaks to navigate; Sugar Mountain is east, while Ember Heart Ridge is west.
The angle of the mountain I’m on is hard to judge, but going downwards is my best bet. Gritting my teeth, I pull myself up and wince as my ankle twinges. I must have twisted it falling over that stupid log.
The rustling from the bushes above me gets louder and a huge deer steps out, his antlers covered in snow. He looks at me in surprise, then bounds off into the trees. The wind is now so fierce that it’s hard to stay upright. Putting my weight on my good leg, I try to walk back the way I came. But I keep falling over. Fear tightens my throat; the heavy snow has covered most of my tracks.
Sitting on my butt, I start scooting down, my ankle twinging every time I move. The white cloud of snow whirling around me is so thick that I don’t know where I’m headed. A couple of times I bump into a tree, then some unfamiliar rocks. I reach a pine with a huge half-broken branch which could provide some shelter.
This has all gone spectacularly wrong. My original plan to miraculously find Scamp and return before the worst of the storm hit seems ridiculous now. What was I even thinking?
Burying my hands in my pockets, I get out my phone. No signal. The compass shows I’m pointing west, which doesn’t make any sense. I can’t stay here. Despite my huge padded coat, thick knitted hat, and lined boots, I’m freezing. The wind pushes snow at a crazy angle through the trees.
“Hello!” A voice shouts from close by, making me jump.
“Yes! Help!” I squeak. My voice is hoarse from shouting for Scamp. Worried they won’t hear me, I frantically shake the branch above me.
Heavy footsteps trudge closer. A huge hand swipes away the branch, sending snow flying in every direction.
“Poppy?”
I nod. I’m so grateful to see this enormous guy that I might cry. “That’s me. How do you know my name?”
“We can talk later. I’m Flint. You’re damn lucky I found you. The worst of the storm is going to be here any minute. Can you walk?”
“I’ve twisted my ankle, but I can try.”
“No time for that.” He reaches his hands out and hauls me to my feet. He’s a foot taller than me, maybe more, and built like a truck. “We have to find shelter.”
I shake my head. “My cabin is close.”
“Not close enough. I parked there. We won’t make it back in time.”
“I’m sure I can–”
“Listen to me, Poppy. I’m mountain rescue, I work at the firehouse. You’re my responsibility now. Stop talking and do what I tell you.” His icy blue eyes are intense.
Something in my core flips, but I keep my voice level. “I appreciate you helping me, but I have to go home. The dog I’m trying to find is due to be–”
Flint grunts, pulling me closer, and hoists my body over his shoulder.
“I’m getting you inside. Tell me about the dog once we’re safe. You’re big trouble, did you know that?”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. This mountain of a man is seriously bossy.
So why does the thought of spending time with him make my stomach flip again?