Page 88 of Thunder Pass

Once they were far enough away from Thunder Pass, with the chaos of the encampment far in the distance, Ruth brought the ATV to a jolting stop near some thick alder bushes.

“You two could probably use a minute.”

“No.” Gunnar grabbed for her arm as she climbed out of the ATV. After all they’d been through, he didn’t want her to go. The man next to him on the passenger seat felt like a stranger. Ruth was his only anchor right now.

“I have to pee,” she said firmly, then disappeared into the brush.

Gunnar and his father sat in awkward silence aside from the sounds of the wilderness—squirrel chatter and the chirp of a bald eagle. Even though it had been ten years, his father looked much older than that. His hair was entirely gray, and deep lines carved his face. He looked as if he’d been through hell.

“You left,” Gunnar finally said, idiotically. “People said you were dead.”

“I came close a few times. They kidnapped me off the ski trail. Knifed me. I nearly died then.” He lifted his shirt to show the scar tissue slashing across his belly. The sight was like a dagger to Gunnar’s heart.

“Who did?”

“Chilkoots. They handed me off to some Russian guys. They beat me up some more, threw me in the back of a truck. I passed out. Could have died then, but didn’t. When I woke up, I was in a Russian work camp.”

“The fuck? You mean, in Russia?”

“Yup. It took me seven years to get out of there. I kept trying to escape, they kept catching me. I’m goddamn lucky to be alive. Every time, I thought they’d kill me.”

Jesus Christ. In all his worst-case scenarios, Gunnar had never imagined anything like that.

“Was it because of the gold? Luke said you were looking for it too. I didn’t believe him.”

“I’m sorry, my boy. I’m sorry for everything, and sorry to say it’s true.” The hard lines etched in his father’s face deepened. “Fatal mistake, nearly, looking for that gold. I was at loose ends after my first marriage ended, and I remembered Luke’s—Fredrik’s—story about the gold in the mountains in Alaska. I figured, why not take a swing at a fortune?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?”

“Too dangerous. I was monitoring Luke’s search, and I saw the way he was building up that cult of his. After a while, I forgot about the gold and shifted my focus to keeping an eye on that motherfucker. I tracked his movements, I built that cabin. But he found me out. I don’t know why he didn’t just kill me, but we used to be buddies, back in Afghanistan. Maybe he still had a conscience. Those days are over.”

Gunnar felt a hard shiver run through him. He’d come so close to getting shot in the head by Luke Chilkoot. So fucking close. “Your message. You said you’d see me when it was safe. It’s not exactly safe.”

“No. After I made it back to the U.S., I made it my business to know what the Chilkoots were doing. I didn’t want to put you in danger by surfacing too soon. I moved to Florida, about as far away as I could get.”

“Bridget went down there.”

“I know. But I was gone by then. When Luke was arrested, I came back to Alaska and was about to drive to Firelight Ridge, but then I found out he was communicating with Dmitri Turgenev. Notorious criminal oligarch from Russia. I went to the CIA, and since I’m former Special Forces, they paid attention. They asked me to lay low and keep doing what I was doing, keeping my ear to the ground, monitoring Luke’s activities.”

Gunnar stared at his father numbly. The things he’d been through…the things he’d done…and it had all started because of some hypothetical gold.

“So your name is actually Anthony Grant?”

“Amundsen is my mother’s side of the family. It’s not so far off. I switched to Amundsen after I left the Army. Too many rough memories. Your name is Amundsen, though. Gunnar Amundsen. And I’m damn proud of you.” He tilted his head, his silvery hair moving like a lion’s mane, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.

Gunnar wanted to forgive him, wanted to hug him just like the old days. But so much time had passed, and he still had so many questions, so he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

“You grew up to be a fine, strong man. You took care of yourself, and you took care of the town too. And now look at what you just did. You took out their radio tower. Without their comms, it’ll be chaos for them. And your girl, Ruth…she’s something else.”

The flat-out admiration and respect in his father’s voice finally broke through Gunnar’s frozen state.

“Yeah. She is.” He grinned, a huge, delighted grin, and the next thing he knew, his dad’s arms were wrapped around him.

43

Ruth took her time relieving herself behind a thick stand of alders. Her heart was still racing from the adrenaline of steering that ATV down a barely-there moose trail to the encampment. Everything that came after was a blur. Gunnar on the ground, Luke’s gun at his head, Luke spinning away as a bullet struck him.

She hauled in deep breaths of pure air in a doomed effort to get a grip on her emotions. Tears trickled down her cheeks as everything that had happened caught up with her. The kids…Sarah…Luke…Naomi…it was all too much.

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