Willow Embers (Black Timber Peak Hotshots #4)

1. NIXIE

ONE

NIXIE

“Whoa there, rowdy.” I press the brake button on Tiberius’s retractable leash and almost choke on a laugh at the look he shoots me over his furry shoulder. “This is a hike, not a run,” I remind him.

He pants happily and turns back to the rough dirt trail as I make up the distance between us. The little brat is having the time of his life out here, whereas I’m struggling.

There’s not enough air at this elevation. It’s been years since I’ve walked anywhere that didn’t have sidewalks. My shirt is clinging to my curves like it’s painted on. And the dry autumn breeze cutting through the trees is too hot against my skin.

I look down at Tiberius. “This is what I get for having that third glass of wine last night, isn’t it?”

His head cocks to one side, and I swear, it’s like he understands me. And he’s judging me.

It doesn’t help that I only had that third drink because I was foolish enough to let Breigh drag me out to the bar. I knew better. In a place as small as Black Timber Peak, running into people you know is part of the deal. But I’d convinced myself the odds were low that I would run into him .

Beauden Lomont.

My high school sweetheart. The boy who left the day after graduation and took my heart with him.

A boy who had grown into a man whose scowl, when I literally bumped into him leaving the bar, cut deeper than any words ever could.

Which didn’t make sense. It wasn’t like I was the one who took his virginity, left town the next morning, and couldn’t be bothered to call or write.

“I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment, huh?” I ask Tiberius.

He prances in the dirt in front of me, his fluffy, pale-yellow tail swishing in chaotic arcs.

“I know, I know,” I say, rolling my eyes as I start walking again.

He doesn’t care about my personal dilemma. Not right now, anyway. The call of the wooded trail is too strong, and with the way he’s pulling on the leash, I have no doubt my very toddler-like golden retriever is going to sleep like a baby tonight.

“This right here is why they flunked you,” I tease.

He doesn’t even bother to look back, and I shake my head. Whoever thought this adorable ball of fluff would make a good service dog clearly had no idea what they were getting into.

Don’t get me wrong, Tiberius is smart and sweet. I’ve never met a more attentive creature in my life. But some days he’s a little too friendly. He wants to play with everyone and everything, and he thinks they all want to play with him too.

The wine-induced headache I woke up with starts throbbing again, at a spot in the back of my head that makes my eyes water, and I seriously debate cutting the hike short and heading back to my car.

But that wouldn’t be fair to Tiberius. He might be bouncy and a handful at times, but he’s been a champ on this trip and he deserves this rollick in the woods.

Every time tears spilled down my cheeks as I boxed up my mom’s things, he was at my side. When I slept on her old couch instead of in her bed because I couldn’t bring myself to spend another minute in her room, he curled up at my feet.

Not to mention the way he helped me hold my life together after a ruptured brain aneurysm took her from me nearly a year ago.

My mom was the one who talked me into adopting him. “You need someone in your life, Nixie. Someone loyal and loving. Who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

At first, I thought she was trying to nudge me back into the dating scene, like she’d done countless times before.

Until she messaged me a picture of the most adorable eight-month-old golden retriever puppy and a link.

One glimpse of his big gold-flecked, milk chocolate eyes and it was love at first sight.

I’d only had him for a few weeks when she left this world.

She never even got to meet him. And I still can’t help wondering if something inside her knew what was coming.

The doctors said that was unlikely, but I’ll always have my doubts.

The universe is big and strange and chock full of things we can’t even imagine.

Either way, Tiberius has become my rock. He’s always there for me. Always happy to see me. And he’ll never ghost me after leaving for the Army, unlike the big, brooding jerk from last night.

The least I can do is power through another mile for my furry partner.

“After some water,” I mutter, silently cursing myself for letting Beauden take up any more space in my aching head.

I swing my sling pack around and let the leash handle hang loose in my hand while I fumble to get my water bottle out. Tiberius lets out an excited bark, and the next thing I know, the leash is being ripped from my grip.

A shock of alarm rockets up my spine. “No!” I dive for the leash, but it’s too late.

He’s already racing down the trail with the black plastic handle dancing along behind him, and for the life of me, I can’t see what he’s chasing.

“Tiberius, stop! Heel! Come!” I yell every command I can think of as I scramble to my feet.

Dread swirls in my stomach.

No. No, no, no.

The contents of my pack are strewn on the ground around me and my bag is cutting into my neck. So, I do the only thing that makes sense in the moment: I rip the pack over my head, throw it down, and take off running after Tiberius.

This is his first time in the woods. We don’t live here. He has no home to return to if he gets lost. And we’re miles from town.

I run until my lungs are screaming and my thick legs are on fire, but I can’t see a single sign of him.

“Tiberius!” I bellow for the thousandth time, my voice hoarse from yelling and running. “Come on, buddy. Please, Ty! ” The words catch in my raw throat, sending me into a coughing fit that has me doubling over.

My heart is beating so hard it’s like a kick drum booming in my chest and head. I can’t get enough air.

I’ve no idea how long I stay hunched over —maybe two minutes, maybe ten— but eventually my strategic brain breaks through the panic and worry, and I remember who I am. I’m not just some helpless woman with dirt on her jeans and day-old mascara threatening to mutiny.

Hell, I’m the Nixie Jones, owner of Steadfast Strategy Consulting in Denver, Colorado.

My whole life is built around knowing what to do in a crisis. Granted, most of my work is reputational, and it all happens behind a desk or at a conference table, but the same principles apply. And if I were one of my clients, my first advice would be to take a breath.

So, I pull in a slow, deep breath and force myself up to check out my surroundings. What I realize very quickly is that Tiberius could be anywhere, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to find him on my own.

I check my pockets and hurl a few colorful curses at myself for ditching my bag. Shedding anything that could slow me down made sense in the heat of the moment, but that also meant I ditched my phone.

“Way to go, Nixie,” I chastise myself as I walk-jog back the way I’d come. I call for Tiberius about every thirty seconds, making kissy noises and clapping my hands.

What do I hear in response? Nothing, aside from the natural hum of the forest.

With every minute that passes, my anxiety inches higher. It’s one thing to be lost in the woods in the middle of the day. It’s another to be lost at night. Especially for a creature as sweet and unknowing as Tiberius.

By the time I make it back to my pack, the afternoon sun is starting its descent toward the jagged horizon. My hands are trembling as I unzip the front pocket of my bag and pull out my phone.

What if it’s busted? What if there’s no cell service up here?

A chill snakes through my middle, despite the way I’m overheating. I tap my screen and let out a tight breath when I see two little bars in the top right corner.

I call Breigh first. The phone rings four times before she picks up, which is unusual for her. That woman lives on her phone.

“Hey, hot stuff. How’s your head feeling?” she asks. Just hearing a friendly voice when my nerves are on edge has me on the verge of tears.

“I’ve been better,” I admit. Swallowing hard, I add, “I could really use your help.”

“Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

“I decided to come up to Cedar Edge for a hike with Tiberius while the realtor was doing her walk-through of the house, but then Tiberius took off. I ran after him, but I can’t find him anywhere.

” As I talk, my voice picks up a high-pitched edge that makes me sound almost as desperate as I feel.

“Can you drive up here and help me look for him?” Preferably with twenty or thirty of her closest friends.

“Oh, Nixie-girl, of course,” she says softly. “But I’m out of town. My guy got the day off and we headed to the big city for a while. I’ll head your way right now, but it’ll be a couple of hours before I get there.”

My stomach sinks. She is the only person —besides my mom— who I’ve kept in touch with since I left town thirteen years ago.

“No, don’t do that,” I say, swallowing against the rising nausea.

The woman would do damn near anything for me, just like I would for her. But the two of us fumbling around in the woods after dark is a recipe for disaster.

The idea of dialing 9-1-1 flits through my head, but I know better. Calling emergency services for a lost dog is a no-no, regardless of how important Tiberius is to me.

“What about Search and Rescue?” I ask. “Is there still a local team?”

Breigh is silent for a second before she says, “There is. It’s mostly the guys from the local hotshot firefighter teams when they have days off, but they usually only look for people.”

“But it couldn’t hurt to ask, right?” The worst they can say is no. “Do you know anyone on the team?”

“It’s Black Timber, sweetie. Everyone knows everyone. Give me a sec.”

The seconds that tick by feel like minutes, and with every one that passes, the vice that’s slowly closing around my chest cranks a little tighter. Then my phone pings loudly in my ear and I wince.

“Just sent you the contact info, but I can’t promise anything,” she says hesitantly.

I get the sense there’s something she’s not telling me, and when I look at the message, there’s no name. Just a phone number. I’m about to press for a little more detail when she asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

I shake my head. “I’m sure. And thank you, Breigh. Seriously.”

“You know I’ve got you. Just remember, positive thoughts. You’ll find him, and you’ll call me crying happy tears when you do.”

A watery laugh slips through my lips. “You know me so well.”

I hang up and do a couple of rounds of box breathing to regain some measure of emotional control as I stare at the number she sent me.