Page 6 of Knot Her Mountain Men

Sweating and exhausted, I followed as fast as I could, but he was on snowshoes and he wasn’t even pretending to keep a slow pace to accommodate for his much longer legs. The sun rapidly disappeared, drenching the forest in shadows.

I didn’t have a flashlight or my phone or anything that might give me a chance out here. Not even moonlight could help me as the gentle snow picked up, the clouds blocking out the sky.

“Brandon!” I yelled out, too desperate to find him to worry about what mood he might be in when I did.

Only silence answered me.

Fear of a different kind slowly crept in as I realized I was completely alone in the woods with no supplies.

I took a deep breath and whispered to myself, “Okay, let’s not freak out.”

That was easier said than done. It had been a four-hour hike out here with snowshoes, which meant it was probably double that or more to get back without them, and I was already exhausted and aching.

“Brandon!” I screamed. “Where are you?”

The silence continued, stretching deep into the forest. He wouldn’tleave meout here…would he?

The storm was getting ready to roll in. I felt the sharpness in the air. The sky was pure white, showing off every spindly branch of the forest against it. I would have to head home soon. I was already pushing it, but I always felt so at peace out here. Nature was funny like that. It wasn’treallypeaceful, with the daily fight for survival, but when I stood out here in the silence of snow, I could trick myself into thinking it was.

I sipped some water from the pack on my back beneath my jacket, the only way to keep a water supply liquid out here. I’d been out here for four days already, checking the edges of the property, making sure the trails were relatively clear and had no signs of poachers. There were always some, and more than once I had chased them off after confiscating their rifles, but they kept trying. We had acres and acres of protected land out here. The only ones who’re permitted to hunt were us and the people we took out who got licensed.

Being tucked in the mountain valleys meant we were a corridor for wildlife, a good portion of which kept us fed. A lot of folks from the Rez came out to hunt with us and we sent them home with plenty of food. It was a few hours away in good weather, but Kit and I had committed to keeping the opportunity available when we bought this land with Ryder and Maverick from an old mountaineer. A week ago we’d hosted a few dozen people from the Rez where Kit had grown up. I’d lived in a town nearby and not on the Rez itself. Mom and I’d visited constantly to see our family. I loved having the squad of cousins out, but I always needed some time to breathe out here on my own afterward.

Pumpkin raced past me, her nose to the ground, her brown fur making her stand out against the snow.

I let out a sharp whistle, but Pumpkin ignored me, digging through the snow. What the hell had she found now? My beautiful Chesapeake Bay Retriever was always digging up some sort of nonsense when I took her on these trips. With a sigh, I marched over in my snowshoes.

Coming over the ridge in the trail exposed a fuchsia snowsuit.

Shit.

I ran over as best I could and kicked off the snowshoes so I could kneel next to the body.

Please don’t be dead.

Pumpkin barked her head off, pawing at the prone form. I patted her head in reassurance, praying whoever this was still clung to a thread of life. I rolled them over, revealing a heavily freckled face set against red hair. Pulling the scarf down let me feel her warm breath against my cheek.

Thank god.

My hunting cabin was only an hour’s walk from here. I could get her there and hopefully she’d survive the trip. Pumpkin dug at ropes that were tied to the woman. Why was she out here alone? This was private land, not public hiking trails, but that certainly didn’t stop people from using it as they pleased.

I followed the ropes, uncovering a shallow sled full of gear hidden beneath the recent snowfall. At least I didn’t have to think too hard about how I was going to transport her. I freed her from the ropes and dumped the contents of her sled, taking a quick look through it to see if I could find anything essential that needed to come with us before transferring her into it and hooking it up to myself.

I clapped the wrists of my mittens together, the metal discs making a sharp sound that got Pumpkin’s attention. My voice wasn’t reliable, and I didn’t always want to take them off to whistle for her, so we’d come up with this alternative. Pumpkin bounded over and I got her lying down on our mystery woman to provide some warmth while I set off through the woods.

If she was a poacher, we would deal with that later. I hadn’t seen a rifle in her kit, but she might have a pistol or something smaller tucked away. It belonged to the forest now anyway. I had everything we would need for survival back at the cabin and I wasn’t going to haul whatever she had along with us.

Her supplies made no sense. No shelter, no fuel, no food, and nothing for communication. Why had she come out here with nothing useful to survive?

Every time I looked back at Pumpkin and the woman, Pumpkin was sniff-testing, probably as concerned as I was that our passenger would perish on the journey. When she woke, I would have to ask her what the hell she was doing out here, but other things were of greater concern right now.

Pumpkin whined.

That was never a good sign.

I stopped the trek to check on the woman. I needed to get her warmed up but we were still half an hour away from the cabin.

“It’s okay,” I whispered to Pumpkin. I opened up the front of my jacket and unzipped the front of her snowsuit, dragging her into my arms to press her against me. She didn’t quite fit inside my coat, but it was close. I sat down for a few minutes with her in my lap, letting my body heat bring up her core temperature a little. She groaned softly against me, but didn’t wake.

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