Chapter 1 Aspen
ASPEN
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Mama!” Cady yelled, flinging her arms wide as she ran out of the elementary school. “It’s snowing!”
Her glittery, off-brand Uggs weren’t exactly protecting her from the wetness, but this storm had come on unexpectedly.
In our small town nestled in the mountains of Washington, getting the occasional dump in October wasn’t unusual.
Sometimes, we even got some in September. But we typically had a bit of warning.
Cady spun in a circle, tipping her head back and trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue.
My heart squeezed. She was everything good in this world—a walking, talking beacon of hope. “Come on, Katydid. Let’s get going before your nose freezes.”
Cady’s best friend, Charlie, laughed. “Dad says it takes at least a couple of hours for frostbite to set in.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from chuckling. “Good to know.”
“See you tomorrow,” Charlie called as he ran toward the SUV with the police emblem on its side.
I waved at his dad, Lawson, behind the wheel. He lifted his hand in answer.
“Can we make snowmen when we get home?” Cady begged as I hustled her toward my station wagon.
“Depends how much snow we get.”
But given that a good three inches were already on the ground, I had a feeling we would be in snowman city.
I opened the back door for Cady, and she slid in. “I’d say there’s enough for snow cones already.”
Her green eyes lit up as a grin split her face. “Can we make mine strawberry?”
“What do you think?”
“Strawberries and cream!” Cady yelled and held up her hand.
I laughed and high-fived it. “Let’s go home, and then we can get started.”
I just hoped my station wagon would get us there. I needed to replace the tires. I’d known it months ago but thought I’d have time. Unfortunately, an early dose of winter waited for no one.
Climbing behind the wheel, I started it up and turned on the heat as high as it would go. Cady chattered on and on about her day, but I stayed focused on the roads. The elementary school was on the outskirts of downtown Cedar Ridge, not too far from The Brew, the coffee shop and café I managed.
I followed Main Street through town. Usually, I let myself take in the quaint tourist shops, restaurants, and the gorgeous lake that peeked out from between the buildings. But not today. Even five years into my life in Cedar Ridge, I still wasn’t used to driving in the snow.
“It’s so pretty,” Cady said with a sigh.
My hands loosened on the wheel a fraction. “It is.”
Something about the blanket of white stretched out around us was incredibly peaceful.
It reminded me how much I loved living here.
But it was more than the beauty that surrounded us.
It was the people. Even though my friends here might not know my past, they loved and supported us with everything they had.
My gaze flicked to the rearview mirror as I turned onto the road that would take us out of town. My habit of watching who might be following at any given moment had proven impossible to break.
I shifted my focus to Cady. “What do you think? Winter wonderland walk?”
She beamed. “Yes, yes, yeeeesss!”
“I don’t know. You don’t sound excited at all.”
“I’m excited!” She bounced in her seat as if to accentuate the point.
“Okay, I guess we can go.”
The typical ten-minute drive to our house at the base of the mountain took almost twenty, given how carefully I drove. I was thankful I’d gone to the supermarket yesterday because I had a feeling we might be holing up for a day or two.
The moment I pulled to a stop in front of the farmhouse, Cady was unbuckling her seat belt. “What about the goaties? And Mabel and Phineas? And—”
“I got them all in the barn before I picked you up,” I assured her.
“We gotta let Mabel out later. She loves the snow.”
I grinned as I slid out of the station wagon, my boots disappearing into the snow. One of our donkeys was crazy about fresh powder. She would zoom around her paddock like nothing you’d ever seen. But it was hard to get her back inside the barn afterward.
“Tomorrow, when the storm has stopped,” I told Cady.
She bounced on her toes. “I wonder if the ducks will like it.”
“They might.”
A customer at The Brew had told me about a mama duck with a broken wing on their property.
She was worried the duck wouldn’t be able to protect herself and her babies from predators.
So, I brought her to our place. Now, she was set up in the barn with a heat lamp and a play pool in one of the stalls.
My hope was that the wing would heal with time, and then she’d be able to be on her own again.
But until then, she and her babies had a safe place to stay.
Cady raced through the snow and up the steps, jumping from foot to foot on the front porch. “Let’s go!”
I laughed as I headed to join her, my gaze going to the tiny piece of wood I’d left jammed into the screen door. It was still there. I might not have been able to swing a fancy security system, but I’d learned ways to keep us safe.
Snagging the wood chip, I placed it on the windowsill and opened the three locks on the door. Cady was inside before I could blink. A deep woof sounded, and our dog bounded toward his best girl.
“Chauncey!” Cady giggled as the three-legged pup licked her cheek. “I missed you, too.”
“Come on, buddy,” I called, letting him out into the snow to do his business.
By the time we were back inside, Cady had donned her bright pink snow gear.
I winced as I took her in. The pants were a little too short, and the jacket a bit tight.
It looked like I would be doling out cash for new gear before the winter season hit us full steam.
Sometimes, I could get two seasons out of Cady’s gear if I was lucky. But she’d had a growth spurt this year.
Cady shot her gloved fist into the air. “Winter wonderland walk!”
“Let’s go.” I grabbed a pair of gloves and a hat for myself, and then we headed back out. I locked the door and shoved my keys into my pocket.
Cady launched herself off the porch steps into the snow. “I’m flying!”
I hurried down the steps, caught her around the waist, and lifted her into the air. Cady’s laughter caught on the air and swam around us. This. This was what I’d fought for. I hadn’t regretted leaving our old lives behind for a second.
Cady’s giggles died away. “Mama,” she whispered.
Something about her tone had me on alert. My gaze shot in the direction Cady was looking, and I stilled.
A deer limped along our drive, headed away from the house.
“She’s hurt,” Cady whispered, tears filling her voice.
My heart clenched. That was obviously the case, and as I squinted, I could just see what looked like wire wrapped around her chest and leg. A million curses filled my mind.
“We gotta help her,” Cady begged. “It’s so cold.”
My nose stung, imagining how scared the poor deer must be. Usually, they traveled in groups, but I didn’t see any signs of other animals around. They’d probably left her behind because she couldn’t move fast enough.
A burn lit along my sternum. I knew what that felt like, to be alone and scared, not having anyone at your back.
“Come on,” I said to Cady, hustling her back up the steps.
“We gotta help her,” she argued.
“I’m going to, but I need you to wait inside.” I didn’t want Cady to scare off the doe as we approached.
To her credit, she didn’t argue, simply followed me inside. I entered the kitchen and grabbed the apple half I planned to cut up for her after-school snack. “I’m going to lock the door after me. Don’t answer for anyone. Promise?”
Cady bobbed her head up and down. “Hurry, Mama.”
I didn’t wait. I slipped out the door and locked it behind me. The deer had already made it down our long drive and was heading up the two-lane road. I cursed as the wind picked up in a loud howl, sending the snow flying.
I hurried to catch up with the doe, slowing as I got closer and trying to examine the wire around her. I bit the inside of my cheek. It was digging into the poor deer’s flesh. This might be out of my wheelhouse.
Pulling off my glove, I retrieved my phone from my pocket and searched the number for Fish and Wildlife.
“Harrison County Fish and Wildlife, this is Andrea. How can I help you?”
“Hi. My name is Aspen Barlow. I live in Cedar Ridge on Huckleberry Lane. I’m following a deer with some wire wrapped around her pretty badly. Do you have anyone who might be able to help?”
“Ma’am, do not approach the deer if it’s injured. They can react badly when cornered.”
“I’m not trying to corner her. I just want to help her,” I explained.
I’d fallen into rehabilitating animals over the last several years.
It seemed like they found me more than I found them.
It had started with Mabel. The farmhouse’s previous owner hadn’t only taken poor care of his property; he’d neglected his donkey, as well.
He’d mentioned just putting her down when he moved out, and I’d hurried to say I would take her.
I hadn’t had the first clue how to care for a donkey, but the internet had taught me most of what I needed to know.
It had taken time to earn Mabel’s trust. She was the one who’d taught me not to corner an animal who was scared or hurt.
I had gotten a nasty gash courtesy of a kick from her when I got too close, too quickly.
The woman on the phone sighed. “My officers are only responding to emergencies right now due to the snow.”
Annoyance flickered through me. “This deer is suffering. That’s not an emergency?”
“The public isn’t at risk from an injured deer.”
Meaning she would’ve responded to a call about a black bear or a cougar.
“Ma’am. Please. She’s hurting.” My voice nearly broke as I spoke. I couldn’t leave the doe out here alone in the cold.
The woman sighed, muttering something under her breath. “I can try one person who might be out that way, but I can’t make any promises. Where are you?”
I rattled off my approximate address, and she hung up without another word.
My teeth began to chatter as the wind picked up again. It was the kind of cold that hurt your skin. I didn’t want to think about what the temperature might’ve dropped to.
The deer trembled, looking over her shoulder at me.
“It’s okay, girl. You’re not alone. I’m gonna get you fixed up in no time.”
She started walking again, limping on her bad leg.
“Just stay put. It’ll be easier on both of us.”
The doe didn’t listen.
“I get it. You’re determined. Been living like this a while?”
She kept right on walking.
I followed her, wondering if I could just grab the wire and free her. I worried the inside of my cheek as I studied the metal imprisoning her. I thought I might be able to get her out if I got my fingers under a specific corner.
I made a clucking sound with my tongue as the wind howled again. The deer halted, glancing skeptically at me.
“Here, girl. Want some apple?”
She sniffed the air and took a step closer.
“That’s it.”
Another step.
“This apple is super yummy.”
A little closer.
The doe strained her neck.
A deep voice cut through the wind. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”