Chapter 7
Gina
“What is that?” Brooke asked, stirring from the nest she’d created on the floor. Her face paled at the question. “You hear it, right?”
Gina tilted her head. “The wind?”
“I don’t think so.” Nick was on his feet, cards face down on the floor. “Someone’s at the door.”
The pounding came again, more insistent this time, followed by a muffled shout. “Hello! Anyone inside? I need shelter!”
“It’s a person.” Gina was already moving toward the hallway before she finished speaking. Someone was in trouble out there.
Nick caught her arm. “Who would be out in this weather?”
The warmth of his grip cut through her chill, startling her more than the knock had.
“I don’t know, but hypothermia can set in fast. Every minute counts.” She pulled free and kept moving.
Nick moved with her, positioning himself between her and the door, shielding rather than stopping her—a simple move that said more than words. He wasn’t trying to prevent her from helping. He was making sure he’d be the first one exposed to whatever came through that door.
Kelsey moved with them, her face pale. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Gina’s right,” Joe said, moving from the tent. “We can’t leave someone to freeze.”
“We need to rethink this,” Brooke said, a tremble to her voice. “We can’t just let anyone inside with us.”
The voice came again. “Please! The door won’t open, and I can see light in there. My truck broke down about a mile back. I’m not going to make it in this weather.”
“Help me with the twine,” Nick said, nodding toward where they’d tied it to an inside doorknob. Their version of a lock. The wind had been pushing the door shut so far, but if the direction changed, they didn’t want it flying open.
Joe easily slipped it loose. “All set.”
“Stand back from the door,” Nick called out, raising his voice to be heard against the squall of the wind.
Nick forced the door open, and a blast of snow came with the figure who stumbled in. The man wore a yellow rain jacket with a rough blanket over his shoulders, his beard crusted white with snow.
“Thank you,” he said, stomping snow off his boots and flexing his fingers.
“I thought I was going to end up a popsicle out there. I can’t feel my toes.
Always forget how cold it gets up here this time of year.
” His eyes swept the hotel hallway, taking in the faces staring back at him.
“You folks mind if I wait out this storm with you?”
“Of course not,” Joe said. “We’re all just trying to stay safe until this passes.”
The man’s gaze settled on Kelsey. She’d gone rigid, her face pale.
“You okay?” Gina asked quietly.
“Fine,” Kelsey said, looking at the floor. Her voice was tight, her hands trembling. “Just cold.”
Gina nodded. “The door opening dropped the temperature. Let’s get back into the dining room.” She turned to the man. “We don’t have a fire. But we’re making do. You should get out of your wet layers.”
“Is that smart?” Brooke whispered. “Inviting him in with us?”
Gina raised her eyebrows at her friend and flared her eyes. Of course it was smart. They couldn’t leave him dripping and shivering in the hallway.
She turned to the man.
A shiver ran through him as he shrugged off the blanket. Gina moved forward automatically to assess him, noting details as she took the blanket from his hands.
The wool was olive drab, military-issued.
His slacks and loafers were soaked at the bottom, but the yellow rain jacket had kept most of him dry.
He was alert and oriented, a good sign for someone who’d been out in the weather.
It was a miracle he hadn’t lost his way in the swirling snow and blowing wind.
“Truck broke down, you said?” Nick asked, hanging the raincoat from a hook near the door. The man’s button shirt was dry except around the collar, and he wore a sports jacket over it. An old-fashioned fanny pack sat at his waist, a water bottle peeking out from one side.
“Yeah, about a mile down the road. Engine just died on me. Probably the altitude or the cold. Good thing I remembered this place was here. Used to hunt in this area years ago.”
Bearwater was a favorite spot for locals. Hunting, hiking, and ATVing were all common in this part of the Shoshone National Forest. Even a simple drive up to explore for the day drew people in, though not usually this early in the season.
She had argued with Brooke about making the trip in mid-May, suggesting they wait until the first weekend of June when the weather might be more reliable, but Brooke insisted it had to be today. Now they were trapped in a deserted hotel in a ghost town, accompanied by a stranger.
“I’m Gina,” she said. “This is Nick, Joe, and Kelsey.” She motioned toward Brooke, who stood a few few away, a scowl on her face and her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “That’s Brooke.”
The man repeated each name, but when he met Brooke’s gaze, something shifted in his expression; just for a second, so brief Gina almost missed it. Recognition? Satisfaction? Interest? Whatever it was disappeared immediately behind a friendly smile.
“I’m George.” He nodded before motioning toward their pile of gear. “Were you hiking? Bad day to be out on the trails.”
“It didn’t start off bad,” Brooke said, her tone defensive.
“Tell me about it,” Joe said. “The weather turned faster than we expected.”
“Mountain weather’s unpredictable this time of year,” George agreed. He pulled off his gloves, revealing smooth hands.
Gina glanced at Nick’s hands and saw the difference immediately. His were calloused, the hands of someone who worked for a living. George’s looked like they belonged to a man who spent his days at a desk.
His skin was a normal color, with no redness from the cold, even though he wore only simple leather driving gloves. He’d said his truck had broken down a mile away. In weather like this, that walk could take an hour or more, and she was surprised he didn’t look worse after that much exposure.
And his feet? Loafers were a strange choice for the Absaroka Mountains. Who explored an old ghost town in shoes like that? His clothes looked like they belonged in an office, not outdoors.
Nick caught her eye. He’d noticed too.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked, motioning toward the camp stove.
“That’d be great. Been a rough couple of hours out there.”
She raised her eyebrows as she glanced over the man again. A rough couple of hours? Interesting.
“Have a seat.” Nick offered the folding camp chair in the corner near the camp stove. “You’ll get a little extra heat here when we’re heating water. It might help you dry out a bit.”
George sighed as he sank into it and pulled off his wet loafers as the water heated. When Gina brought him a mug, he wrapped both hands around it and closed his eyes briefly as he took the first sip. “Needed that more than I realized.”
“You said you used to hunt around here?” Nick asked.
Gina listened to his answer while she added more water to the kettle. They could all use a cup.
They’d gathered enough snow for several servings, using a tarp they’d set outside and making a quick run to the vehicles to scoop it off the roofs. They had already boiled it and strained it through a bandanna, so it was at least somewhat clean.
But that was before the storm kicked up again. Soon, they’d need to collect more snow, especially with an extra person to keep hydrated.
“Years ago. My dad used to bring me up here when I was a kid.” George’s smile was easy, conversational. “Beautiful country. Lots of places to . . . meet up with friends, if you know what I mean.”
The phrase hung in the air with just enough emphasis to make Gina wonder if he meant something more than casual hunting trips.
Meet up with friends? In an abandoned mining town, miles from civilization?
It could be innocent, but combined with everything else that felt off about George’s arrival, it set her nerves on edge.
“We were fortunate to make it here before the storm got really bad,” she said, testing him. “Another hour and we might not have found shelter. The snow made visibility challenging.”
“Indeed,” George agreed. “Though I have to say, this old hotel’s always been a reliable refuge. People have been using it for years when they need somewhere . . . private to conduct business.”
There it was again. That slight emphasis that suggested he knew more about this place than casual hunting trips would explain. She looked toward Nick. His expression mirrored her concern, and something about that shared wariness made the situation feel more manageable.
George unzipped his fanny pack and pulled out an energy bar. But as he did, his jacket fell open enough to reveal the grip of a handgun in a shoulder holster.
“You came prepared,” Nick observed neutrally.
“Have to, in country like this,” George replied, making no effort to conceal the weapon now that it had been seen. “Never know what you might run into. Four-legged or two-legged threats, if you catch my meaning.”
In Wyoming, firearms were common. Many people carried them in bear country, especially when alone. On its own, the gun meant little, but paired with his unusual clothing, it felt out of place in the wilderness.
The sight of it shifted the mood. Joe tensed, eyes fixed on George’s jacket. Brooke straightened. Kelsey let out a quick, sharp sound, like a startled animal.
Nick moved closer to Gina, not obviously protective but near enough that she could feel his presence. The gesture said I’ve got your back without being overt about it. She instinctively moved toward him too, their shoulders nearly touching as they stood by the camp stove.
“Storm looks like it’s going to be here for a while,” George said, settling back with the relaxed confidence of someone who was exactly where he wanted to be. “Might be a long night.”
“Hopefully the weather clears soon so we can make our way out of the forest,” Gina said carefully. “We all have places we need to be.”
“Oh, I’m in no hurry,” George replied. “In fact, I’m supposed to meet someone around here. Might as well wait it out and see if they show up.”
Meet someone. Here. The words echoed in Gina’s mind. Who meets someone at an abandoned hotel during a blizzard?
Nick’s hand brushed against hers. She looked up to meet his gaze as he lifted his eyebrows and mouthed, “Meet someone in a blizzard?”
She shook her head. It didn’t make much sense, but people were sometimes strange.
She’d learned that long ago, especially working in a hospital.
The ER in Irma was usually quiet, but she’d spent a few years at one of the Denver hospitals.
Things could get crazy there, and she certainly saw all sorts of interesting people.
She also saw people who twisted the truth to suit themselves, who lied without hesitation, and who wore masks so convincingly that even trained eyes sometimes missed the cracks. George reminded her of those people.
Gina poured herself a cup of tea and moved back to stand beside Nick. His solid presence, the quiet understanding that passed between them without words—it steadied her. She’d always handled problems alone, had always been the one holding everything together.
But standing here now, feeling the solid warmth of him beside her, she realized she didn’t want to be alone in this.