Page 27 of Thunder Pass

Ruth had only recently understood that she was technically an “American,” but the concept meant very little to her. She liked the idea that she was a citizen of something much bigger than Firelight Ridge, much bigger even than Alaska. But that was precisely what Luke didn’t like. He’d always wanted to keep their world very tightly confined.

“And you think I might know?” She shook her head and kept shaking it the more she thought about it. “I don’t. I’ve never been part of any inner-circle discussions. They never included me in that type of thing. You should talk to Jared or any of the men.”

“You know I can’t do that. I can’t tip my hand. Whatever it is, they’re probably in on it.”

“They’re in on something,” she agreed. “But I have no idea what. Or why a CIA agent would be interested in it. Are you sure about your facts?”

“No. We’re not sure about anything.” He ran a hand through his thick blond mane of hair. “He might not be CIA at all. Maybe he had some other reason to spy on your family. That’s what’s so frustrating. I guess I was hoping…I don’t know, that you’d heard or seen something that might make sense of this.”

She gave a snort of laughter. “See, that’s the thing. When you grow up with something, none of it seems strange. It’s just…what is. Isn’t that true for everyone?”

“Yeah. I never thought it was strange that my father raised me alone in an isolated mountain outpost after my mother died. I never thought it was strange that he taught me how to fix cars, and how to fight, and how to shoot, and how to trap and hunt and fish, but now I’m looking back and I’m like, I think he wanted to make sure I knew how to survive. Not just regular survival, but crisis survival.”

Ruth’s heartbeat sped up as she caught the unfamiliar hint of worry in Gunnar’s blue eyes. He was usually a carefree kind of person, a playful, friendly soul who helped anyone who needed it. He’d come to her rescue, after all, hers and Sarah’s. She’d never seen him as preoccupied as this.

“It’s always good to be prepared when you live in the wilderness.”

“That’s another thing. Why did we live here? Bridget lives in a city. We could have moved to one, too. I could have gone to school, to college. Played sports. I’m not complaining, I love it here. I don’t want to leave. But now I’m wondering if…”

“If he was preparing you for something dangerous?” Ruth asked gently.

“Yes.” He chewed on his lower lip. “Did you know that I can shoot an arrow into a spruce cone at seventy yards?”

“I did not.”

“I can throw knives with nearly a hundred percent accuracy. I can knock a guy out with a maximum of three punches. My dad and I used to spar for hours. One room of the house is set up as a gym, punching bags, sparring mats, weights, the whole thing. Not just fighting. He taught me how to focus, how to get into a flow state. I get under those cars and get to work and I’m in the flow.” He shook himself, as if coming out of said “flow.” “I’m just questioning everything now. Know what I mean?”

“Oh yes. More than you know.” They shared a glance of complete mutual understanding. It was funny, in a way, that both their worlds had been blown up recently, although in very different ways.

“Ever since my dad disappeared, I’ve felt like I was in limbo. I just didn’t understand. But I didn’t want to leave. I thought he might come back and explain everything. After a while, I started to think he might be dead, like people around town were thinking. Then I got a message from him. It was a note someone left in the garage, on my work bench, about three years ago. I never saw who left it, but I knew it was from him. All it said was, ‘I’m alive, but it was a close call. I’ll see you when it’s safe. Watch your back and remember what I taught you. I love you.’ That’s it, word for word. I memorized it, of course. Then I burned it because something about it made me paranoid.”

“Wow.” She touched his arm. “Do you know where he is, or why he disappeared?”

“No. That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

He looked so vulnerable that she longed to give him a hug. Of course she wanted to help him. She owed him for rescuing her and Sarah. And even without that, her heart ached for him, for the struggle he was going through. “And you think there’s some connection to the Chilkoots?”

“I do. It’s partly just those scraps of memory of things my dad said. And it’s partly my gut instinct. Partly some information that Bridget dug up. But yeah, my theory is that he came to Firelight Ridge because of them. The Chilkoots.”

She liked the fact that he said “them,” not “you.” Slowly, moment by moment, day by day, she was becoming her own person, not simply a Chilkoot.

“I really wish I could help, but I can’t go back to the compound. It’s not safe, and no one would talk to me anyway. I’m sure I’m dead to them by now.” That now-familiar pang twisted her heart.

“I’m not asking that,” he said quickly. “I never would. I was just hoping that something I said would strike a chord and you’d remember something you saw or heard. Did they know someone was possibly spying on them?”

She shook her head, searching her memory for anything that might help him. “I have no idea. My whole life, the men would huddle together concocting plans and schemes and I never knew what they were talking about. The only?—”

She broke off as an idea occurred to her. A radical one, something that had never crossed her mind for a second until just now.

“What?” Gunnar said eagerly. “Did you remember something?”

“Not exactly. But I have an idea about who to ask.”

“Great. Let’s go, then.” His eyes lit up with the excitement of finally having a direction.

“It’s not so simple.” She bit her lip, wondering if she should abandon this idea before she even spoke it out loud.

“Please,” he said simply. “It would mean a lot to me.”

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