Page 2 of Her Mountain Rescuer

I shove the InReach into my jacket pocket, slip my hood up, and start to hike back out. I’m not going to radio Beau. That’s the last thing I want to do. This is fine. Everything is fine.

Thunder rolls in the distance, echoing off the mountains and reverberating through the trees, making the leaves above tremble. The rain starts to fall harder in large, ice cold drops that sting my face.

“Shit,” I hiss, my feet moving faster on the slickening path. Another crack of thunder sounds, this one much closer, and I jump, my heart pounding hard and fierce against my ribs. Iclose my fingers around the InReach in my pocket, playing tug of war with myself as I practically jog down the trail. The wind is starting to howl, branches smacking into each other above. All the birdsong has stopped, and the only sounds I can hear are my own jagged breathing, the pounding of rain against the forest floor, and the wind.

I’m utterly alone out here.

I keep going, letting the adrenaline that comes with fear push me forward, and I come to a break in the forest, the canopy opening up enough for me to get a better picture of the sky. Shielding my eyes against the slanting rain, I look up, trying to gauge the size and severity of the storm.

In every direction, all I can see are churning purplish gray clouds, low and heavy. They’re moving fast because of the wind, but I don’t see an end to the storm any time soon.

“Fuck. Fuck!” I say, first in irritation, and then again as the rain starts to slap me in the face, so cold it feels like little razor blades.

I need to find shelter. Where I am right now isn’t safe. A branch could fall on me, and with lightning flashing, I want to get to a lower elevation to minimize my risk. My best bet is to find a dense grove of trees and take shelter there. Where I am now, the trees are spread out enough that they won’t provide enough shelter or protection from the storm, or from a possible lightning strike.

Bracing myself against the storm, I continue down the path, which is becoming more and more treacherous with each passing second. The gravel slips and shifts dangerously beneath my boots, and when a violent gust of wind barrels into me, I fall forward as my ankle twists.Gravel cuts into my palms, but my hands are so cold that I barely feel it. My knees, however, are now shrieking, gravel embedded in the small rip that’s opened up on my left leg, and my ankle is throbbing angrily. I try topush to my feet, but my boots slip in the mud, and I struggle for purchase.

Thunder booms overhead, shaking the forest right down to the floor, and real, genuine terror grips me.

I could die out here. If I don’t get hit with a falling branch, or slip and hit my head, or get hit by lightning, I’m so cold and wet that I know I’m at risk of hypothermia. My breaths rasp in my chest as I struggle to my feet, managing to get upright despite the aching protest in my ankle. I’m shaking now, and I can’t tell if it’s from the cold, the fear, or a combination of both. My heartbeat thrashes wildly in my ears as I try to fight back the rising panic.

The sky lights up, pure white piercing through the gray. For one endless second, the raindrops are lit up in stark relief against the stormy sky, the trees nothing but monstrous silhouettes as lightning streaks above me. Thunder booms almost instantly afterward, indicating just how close the storm is. It’s right on top of me.

I keep moving down the path, looking for somewhere, anywhere, to take shelter. I see a dense thicket of trees off the main path up ahead, and I make a beeline for it as fast as I can with my throbbing ankle. As I walk, I pull the InReach out of my pocket. Now isn’t the time for pride. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to feel humiliated after Beau’s team hauls my stupid non-weather-checking ass back to safety.

Way to prove to him that you’re not an incompetent little girl, Hailey. Great job.

I make it to the trees, and despite my hiking gear, I’m just about soaked through. I’m still getting rained on in here because of the wind, but the trees do provide some shelter. Leaning back against the rough trunk of a pine, I turn the radio on.

“Hello, is anyone there? Over.”

The radio connects to one at the Mountain Rescue station, where Beau is the head ranger.

“Hailey? What’s wrong? Over.” Beau’s voice comes through the radio, and just the sound of it sends fresh tears not just pricking at my eyes, but streaming down my face, losing themselves in the raindrops.

“I’m stranded in the forest. I set out to hike the Honey Ridge trail, and this storm came in. I’ve taken shelter in a thicket of trees, but the conditions are deteriorating quickly and I don’t know what to do and I—” I suck in a sharp breath. I don’t want Beau to hear me crying. “Over.”

“You found shelter. Good girl.” His praise washes over me like warm sunshine on a spring day, and while it feels good, it also makes me cry harder because he’s never going to say those words to me the way I want him to. I can picture it—Beau telling me I’m his good girl as I suck his cock, as I swallow his cum. Telling me I’m a good girl for taking his cock whenever he wants. “I can get a read on your coordinates through the InReach. Stay there, try to keep warm, and I’m on my way. Keep the radio on. Over.”

“Okay,” I say weakly, flinching as more thunder cracks right above me. “Beau, I—“ I swallow thickly, my throat feeling tight and achy as I fight back tears.

“Stay with me, Hails,” he says, his deep voice anchoring me. He’s my literal rock in the storm. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I know it’s scary. I need you to breathe for me and stay calm. Can you do that for me? Over.”

I suck in a breath, trying to block out the sound of the storm around me, trying to ignore just how freaking cold I am and focus on the sound of Beau’s voice. I hate how my body instantly responds to it. I hate the way warmth blooms across my chest. I hate the way just knowing he’s on the other end of the radio makes me feel safer, even if I’m trying to avoid him right now.

I hate that not only do I need his help, but I want it.

I hate how much I want him. How much I need him. And I hate that he’ll never feel the same way about me.

“I’m scared, Beau,” I say quietly into the radio, treating this faceless connection like my own personal confessional. “I need you.” Thunder cracks overhead, so loud and close that I let out a little shriek. My hands are shaking. My heart is a wild, erratic thump in my chest.

“I know you are. But you can get through this. You’re not a novice hiker. You’re going to be okay.” His deep voice is firm, unyielding, but gentle. I cling to the sound of it, trying to breathe through my fear and panic. “Are you staying warm? Do you have dry clothes in your pack? Over.”

I shake my head before I remember that he can’t see me. “No. I packed light. I wasn’t planning to be out here for long. O-over,” I say through my chattering teeth. The cold feels like it’s seeping into my bones. My head feels a little fuzzy.

“Okay, no problem. We’ll work with what we have. Can you find some dry leaves or pine needles? Anything to insulate yourself as a measure against the cold? Over.”

I look around. I’m nestled in a dense copse of pines, and I’m able to scrounge up enough dry ones to make myself a little nest. I grab up additional handfuls, my clumsy, frozen fingers aching as I shove the pine needles into my coat, against my chest and back with the goal of keeping the wet fabric away from my skin. It helps, but only a little.

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