Chapter Two
Walker
The wind bites at my exposed skin, whipping through the pine trees and carrying with it the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves.
The late-season storm moving in is going to be brutal, I can already tell.
And so, it seems, can the tourists as they hurry past me and down the mountain.
I watch them until they’ve disappeared down the hiking trail before pulling my collar higher.
Odd, I think, how everyone likes the mountain only when it’s bright and sunny.
No one sticks around to watch the weather turn or bear the chill from the bitter wind.
It’s magical this time of the year. A favorite of mine, and it’s a damn good thing the park contracts me for this work, or else I would never get to experience it.
My breath fades in the cold air as I scan the familiar landscape.
Twice a year, the park hires me to survey different sections where trees need to be thinned for the overall health of the forest. I check for trees that are sick, blocking trails, or otherwise need to be removed.
After the initial survey and report, I return to harvest the approved trees.
The timing depends on the sector and what the park needs, but I prefer the quieter months, when the forest is mostly empty.
There is hardly ever anyone around but the animals and a few of the rangers willing to brave the elements.
Once upon a time, old man Sam and I did this job together, but now, it’s just me.
I scribble in my notebook, marking a section near the narrow ravine where several trees need to be cleared before the next season. Before I can move on, my gaze snags on something half buried near a cluster of undergrowth.
A torn food wrapper.
Fucking tourists!
Litter in the forest sets my teeth on edge. The trail is right fucking there. The trash bins are back at the main path. Whatever happened to “pack it in, pack it out?” If they bring it into the forest, they should be taking it out with them when they leave.
I kneel, my gloved hand closing around the wrapper before my gaze catches on another piece of trash several feet away. Then another. Not much, but enough to pull my attention toward the ravine.
Goddamnit!
My jaw tightens as I gather what I can, careful not to disturb the plants around me. The ground near the edge is scuffed, the leaves kicked up in a way that doesn’t look like normal animal movement. I can’t say for sure what happened here, but something feels off.
I’m about to turn back toward the marked section I came to inspect when something stops me.
A whimper.
Low. Barely audible. But in the quiet forest, I catch it.
My eyes narrow on the ravine, searching for the source of the noise. When I can’t spot anything from above, I move closer to the edge and listen again. Another whimper reaches me, faint and pained, and the hair at the back of my neck rises.
It’s more likely an animal fell down there and got trapped. The only way out is to climb back up, and it’s not always easy for the young ones to do so.
Still, something about the sound has my grip tightening around my notebook before I tuck it away and start down the ravine to check for myself.
The sky seems to darken as I make my way down carefully, trying not to slip on the wet ground. I’ve barely made it halfway when the whimper comes again, more pained this time, pulling my attention to the left.
I turn, and fuck if I know what I was expecting to see, but it sure as hell wasn’t a pair of boots sticking out from beneath a tall shrub. I follow the boots to a pair of jeans that must’ve been blue at some point but are now streaked with mud and crushed leaves. Then higher.
Straight to a pair of wide green eyes staring back at me from beneath the branches. For one full second, I forget how to move.
She’s filthy, shaking, and clearly terrified, but there’s something about her heart-shaped face and those panicked eyes that hits me square in the chest.
“No!” the woman cries out, inching farther beneath the shrub even though there’s nowhere left for her to go. “No, please don’t hurt me. Please. I didn’t see anything. I swear. Please.”
She’s sobbing now, tears sliding down her flushed cheeks, and something sharp twists in my chest. Anger. Not at her. At whoever put that fear in her eyes.
“Miss—”
“Please don’t hurt me.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Stay away. Don’t come any closer. I… Can’t you just let me go? Please?”
“Miss,” I try again, but she cries out the second I take another step toward her.
Helplessly, I stop moving, unsure what the hell I’m supposed to do here.
It’s getting late, and by the bitter wind whipping through the trees, I can tell a storm is close.
If I don’t get her out of here soon, we’ll both be stuck out here.
“Look, I’m just trying to help you.”
“I…I don’t believe you.”
Her voice cracks as I slowly slide a hand into my pocket.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Getting my badge,” I tell her, pulling it free and holding it out where she can see it. The park issued it so I could access restricted areas while working. “I work with the park. I can help you if you let me.”
Something that looks dangerously close to hope flashes across her expression. She sniffs, eyes darting from the badge to my face and back again.
“Y-you’re not with them?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about, Miss, but I assure you I work alone.”
Silence stretches between us as she studies me, like she’s searching my face for a lie.
“Can I see it again?” she whispers, nodding toward the badge. “Is it real?”
“It’s real,” I assure her, stepping closer and holding it out again.
She studies it for another second before sagging backward with a shaky sob. “Walker,” she murmurs softly, reading the name printed beneath the park logo before finally relaxing a fraction. “Your name is Walker.” Her chest rises and falls rapidly as tears slip down her cheeks.
“What’s your name?”
“Kelly,” she sniffs.
“Alright, Kelly,” I say carefully. “Will you let me help you out of there?”
She nods. “I sprained my ankle when I fell,” she says, taking my hand when I offer it. “We should call the cops. I came here to photograph a breeding pack of gray wolves and then I saw these guys…ouch!” she cries out, gripping my arm when I try to help her stand. “I can’t do it.”
“Alright, let’s have a look,” I say, easing her back into a sitting position. I crouch in front of her and carefully lift her right leg. Her ankle is already swollen beneath the boot, and she winces the second I touch it.
“Go on,” I say. “Tell me what happened.” Those striking green eyes lift from her ankle to my face, confusion flickering across her expression.
“About what you saw near the den.”
“Oh…right.” She swallows hard. “A park ranger told me where to find the den, and I was going to scout the area, maybe take a few pictures if I got lucky enough to spot the wolves, then come back the next day for more when—ouch!” She winces again when I begin unlacing her boot.
“Then what happened?”
“I saw these men. There were three of them, and they looked suspicious, so I hid behind a tree to watch them. I know I probably shouldn’t have been spying on people, but something felt wrong.”
She pauses and peers over my arm as I tug her sock down gently. “Is it bad?”
Her ankle is swollen and tender. Painful, but hopefully not serious.
“We’ll take care of it,” I assure her, sliding the sock back into place. I don’t bother with the boot.
I glance toward the steep climb we’ll need to make to get back to the trail, then up at the darkening sky. Yeah, there’s no way she’s making that climb on her own. I’ll have to carry her.
The realization settles surprisingly easily in my chest, so I guide her arms around my shoulders before sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back. I lift carefully, trying not to jostle her injured ankle.
“Wait,” she blurts before I can start moving. “My backpack. I had it with me when I fell.”
We both glance around before she spots it first, pointing toward a green backpack hanging from a low branch, nearly blending into the trees. I carry her closer so she can grab it.
The climb back up is harder than I expected. The ground is slick beneath my boots, and the wind only gets worse the higher we go. By the time we reach the top, one look at the dark clouds overhead tells me we aren’t making it to town before the storm hits.
“There’s a cabin a few miles from here.” I tell her as another sharp gust tears through the trees. “I stay there while I’m working. We can wait out the storm there and get your ankle cleaned up before it gets worse.”
She chews nervously on her bottom lip, flinching as the wind whips around us again. “Okay,” she says quietly, though uncertainty still lingers in her voice. “But you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“You’ll go back and check on the wolves.”
My brows pull together. “Why?”
“The men I saw were setting traps outside the den.” She lets out a shaky breath, her eyes pleading as they lock onto mine. “Please. You have to check on them. The wolves are only just recovering after being endangered for so long and those men…”
A tear slips down her cheek, and something in my chest tightens painfully. “I’ll go with you to the cabin if you promise to check on them. Please!”
I’ve always believed myself to be a man with an iron-clad will. One no one could bend. Yet staring into the tear-filled eyes of this trembling stranger, I feel that certainty crack.
Anything , a quiet voice whispers in the back of my mind I’ll do anything for you . The thought hits hard enough that I shove it away immediately.
“Okay,” I tell her. “I’ll check on the wolves. But first, let’s get you somewhere safe.”