Chapter Six #2
“He’s really smart, but it’s hard for me to picture any nine-year-old doing all that. Where would he have gotten the tools, or even the skills to do those things? It’s not like his dad is a big outdoorsman, teaching his kid how to survive in the wilderness.”
“It definitely looked to me like two people had slept in that shelter,” Scott said.
“So Jackson and who else?”
“Another searcher? Everyone in town must know by now that a little boy is missing. Maybe someone decided on their own to go out and look.”
“It’s strange that you and I didn’t see whoever it was,” she said.
“Maybe they’re trying to remain anonymous.”
“They must not have found Jackson,” she said.
“Or we would have heard.” She inched a little closer to the fire and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets.
“So maybe what we saw was two completely differently people. Other searchers, or even tourists who don’t know about the missing boy.
I’m really worried about him. How is he going to survive a second night in this weather, alone?
He might have had a few snacks with him, but they would be gone by now. ”
“Is he the type to panic or give up easily?” Scott asked.
“He’s smart and he’s quiet. In some ways he’s very mature for his age. He’s traveled all over the world and is pretty comfortable around all kinds of people. But he’s also been very sheltered. Spoiled, even. He’s a good kid, but I wouldn’t say he’s faced much physical hardship.”
“Has he done much backcountry skiing? Do you know?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Why did you leave the job with the Endicotts?” he asked.
“Because Jackson didn’t need me. When he turned six he started school full-time.”
“What do you do in the summers now?” he asked.
“Different things. Wait tables. Work retail. What about you?”
“I work for the resort,” he said. “Maintenance staff. Hunter still gets to come to work with me every day.”
“How old is Hunter?” The dog was looking at each of them in turn, having recognized his name.
“He’s four. He’s been training as an avy dog since he was two months old.”
“Same as Shelby.”
Shelby gave a single thump of her tail, but didn’t raise her head. “So she’s about eighteen months old now?” he asked.
“Sixteen. And she’s doing great.” She dared him to say otherwise.
“What made you want to train an avalanche dog?” He scooped snow into the mug and set it beside the fire to melt.
She could have made up a story about seeing other patrollers work with their dogs, or about coming across the perfect dog to train for the work.
Maybe it was the darkness, or the lingering effects of the food and the schnapps, or the novelty of being stranded together, but she decided to opt for the truth.
“My brother, Ben, was a ski patroller. He was six years older than me and was training an avy dog, Cache, when he was killed in an avalanche. He was training Cache that day, and was being careful. But a slab of snow let loose and caught him. Friends dug him out, but by the time they found him, it was too late.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s really tough.”
She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
“I tried to take over where he left off, training Cache, but I was only seventeen, and I just didn’t have the experience, or the time, to do a good job.
But I kept the idea in the back of my head.
I worked ski patrol for five years before an opening came up in the avalanche dog program at Kingdom Mountain. I applied and was accepted.”
“Where did you get Shelby?”
“From a breeder in Steamboat Springs. She comes from a long line of avalanche and search-and-rescue dogs.” She reached out to stroke the dog.
“My parents helped me buy her. I could never have swung the cost on my own. The resort gave me some money for training, and I scrounged up the rest. But it was worth it. She’s been great. Ben would have loved her, too.”
“I’m sorry about your brother,” he said. “What happened to his dog?”
“Oh, he’s living the good life with my parents. He’s a pampered senior now. What about you—how did you get into avalanche dogs?”
“Similar story to yours,” he said. “My best friend was killed in an avalanche. It took two days to find his body. When I learned that a dog could probably have found him much faster, I wanted to do that for other people—to not make them wait to know what really happened to their loved one. And you always hope that you’ll be able to save someone. ”
“I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Yeah.” He looked up, snow sifting down onto his cheeks. “He would have loved being out here like this. He would rather be outside in bad weather than cooped up inside almost any time. I try to take comfort in the fact that he died doing something he loved, but I’d rather he was still around.”
“How old was he when he died?” she asked.
“He was twenty-six. If he had lived he’d be thirty-three now. A year younger than me.”
Ben would be thirty-four if he had lived. The same age as Scott. The two men were nothing alike—except that they both loved dogs and snow.
It was getting colder. She tried to hide her discomfort, but doing a poor job. “You’re shivering,” Scott said. “Let’s turn in. We’ll be warmer inside.”
“I hope so,” she said, and followed him into the snow cave.
She had been nervous about sharing the close quarters, but there was nothing intimate about curling up in a crinkly Mylar blanket while wearing all her clothing.
The dogs settled between them. Lily pulled a knit beanie down low over her forehead, gripped the blanket with mittened hands, and waited as warmth gradually seeped into her body and she drifted to sleep.
WHEN SHE WOKE it was still dark. Her whole body ached with cold. Disoriented, she groped beside her, startled to find herself alone. As sleep receded, she sat up and found her headlamp and switched it on. A figure darkened the doorway of the snow cave and she gasped.
“It’s just me,” Scott said. He crawled past her. The dogs followed and curled into tight balls, tails over noses. “I’m sorry I woke you,” Scott said. “Go back to sleep.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to sound bossy.”
“I get it. You’re used to giving orders.”
“I guess that’s true.” Order or not, she wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Her head ached—probably from a combination of schnapps and not enough water. She found her water bottle, but the contents had frozen.
“Here.” Scott passed over his. “You have to keep it tucked in next to your body or it freezes.”
She should have thought of that. “Thanks.” She drank, greedily, then passed it back.
He drank also. The gesture struck her as intimate, even though he was only being practical.
“I should have asked earlier,” he said. “Do you have someone who will be worrying about you—a romantic partner, or your parents?”
“My parents are in Vermont. And I don’t have a partner. What about you?”
“My parents are in Utah.”
“That must be nice, having them so close.”
“I guess. I don’t really see them much.”
There had to be a whole story there. She was debating whether to ask when he said, “I broke up with my girlfriend four months ago.”
His tone of voice made her think the breakup hadn’t been his idea. “Rough,” she said.
“She said she couldn’t see a future with a man who had so little ambition.”
“Ouch.”
“I get it. Working resort maintenance and ski patrol isn’t going to pay for a six-figure lifestyle. For what it’s worth, my parents agree with her. They think I’m throwing my life away.”
Ouch. “There’s something to be said for enjoying the work you do,” she said.
“Oh, I think those guys drawing six-figure salaries probably enjoy their jobs, too. I’m just not them.”
She understood. The thought of spending every day in an office made her anxious. “Not every woman sees things the way they do,” she said.
He didn’t answer, except for a soft exhalation of breath that told her he was asleep.
SCOTT WOKE, ON HIS SIDE, his arm draped over someone soft and warm and definitely female.
He smiled to himself and moved closer, until he was pressed against her back.
She stirred against him, and awareness edged out sleep as he realized this wasn’t Madison, his former lover.
He froze, and other facts became clear. He and the woman were both wearing a lot of clothing, and lying on the ground.
He sat up and switched on his headlamp. Lily turned onto her back and looked up at him, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry,” he said, dread hollowing his chest. “I was asleep. I didn’t realize.” If she complained to management, he’d be out of a job, the avy dog program ended permanently.
She lay still a moment longer. “It’s okay,” she said finally, and sat up. She didn’t look at him, but didn’t seem angry, either. “Where are the dogs?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Hunter!”
“Shelby!” she called.
Both dogs came squeezing in, all wagging tails and wiggling bodies. He hugged Hunter to him and buried his face in the dog’s thick fur, while Lily did the same to Shelby. “What time is it?” she asked after a bit.
He checked his watch. “Five thirty-two.”
She untangled herself from the Mylar blanket and began folding it up.
He did the same with his. She left the shelter, Shelby bounding after her.
He folded the tarp they had been lying on and by the time he emerged from the snow cave, she was squatting beside the fire, blowing on the tiny flame that licked at a pile of pine needles.
He collected water in the cup he had washed out last night and boiled water for instant coffee. They shared the cup and ate protein bars for breakfast. The dogs ate the last of the jerky.
Afterward, they took down the shelter, scattered the fire and reloaded their packs. At 7:00 a.m. they emerged into open space once more, and he radioed to headquarters. Doug Elam answered. “Scott? You and Lily okay?”
“We’re fine,” Scott said. “What’s the plan for today?”
“I was just talking to the helicopter pilot,” Doug said. “They’re going to pick you up in…in twenty minutes. Where are you?”
Scott read off the GPS coordinates he had marked. “There’s a big clearing here. We shouldn’t be too hard to spot.”
“Have they heard anything about Jackson?” Lily asked.
“Any sign of Jackson?” Scott asked.
Another long pause. “We haven’t found him,” Doug said. “But there’s been a development.”
Doug’s voice wasn’t reassuring. Scott’s gaze met Lily’s. She looked as ill as he felt. “What kind of development?” he asked.
“That boy didn’t wander out there and get lost,” Doug said. “He was taken.”