Page 4 of Rescued In The Storm

"Let's pick up the pace a bit," I suggest, offering a hand to Linda as we descend a steep section of switchbacks.

By the time we reach the final stretch of trail, I can see our shuttle in the small parking area ahead. Perfect timing. The first fat raindrops are beginning to fall, spattering the dusty trail and raising that distinctive scent of rain on dry earth.

"Looks like we're going to get wet after all," Richard comments good-naturedly.

"Better a little rain than a lightning storm on the ridge," I reply, ushering everyone down the last slope.

We're nearly to the parking lot when something catches my eye. A vehicle that doesn't belong to the lodge or any of the regular guides. A small blue hatchback parked at the far end, near the trailhead for Eagle Point.

I stop so abruptly that Tyler nearly bumps into me.

I know that car. The faded bumper sticker on the back window. The small crack in the taillight that I've been telling her to fix for months.

Sarah's car.

My chest tightens. Sarah Miller is not a hiker. In the decade I've known her, I've never once seen her on a trail. What in the world is she doing up here, today of all days, with a storm rolling in?

"Connor?" Richard prompts, drawing my attention back to the group.

"Sorry," I mutter, forcing myself to focus on my current responsibility. "Everyone into the shuttle. We need to get back before this really starts coming down."

I drive the group back to the lodge in record time, my mind racing faster than the approaching storm clouds. The rain is coming down harder now, drumming against the roof of the shuttle as I pull up to the lodge entrance.

"Thanks for getting us back safely," Linda says as the group files out.

"My brother Rowan will help you get settled," I tell them, spotting my youngest brother on the porch. "I need to head back out."

I catch Rowan's eye as the group moves toward the shelter of the lodge. "Storm's coming in fast," I call to him. "Can you make sure Liam knows this group is back safe?"

He nods, immediately picking up on my urgency. "Everything okay?"

"I spotted Sarah Miller's car at the Eagle Point trailhead."

Understanding dawns on his face. "Go. I've got this." He glances over his shoulder toward the main office. "Heads up though, Liam's in a mood. Mom's new bookkeeper showed up this morning. Turns out it's Lauren Abbott."

Lauren Abbott. Liam's ex-wife. No wonder my brother's in a mood. Leave it to our mother to hire the one person guaranteed to turn Liam's world upside down without warning any of us. But that's a Callahan family drama for another day.

"He'll survive," I say, already backing up the shuttle. "I've got more urgent problems right now."

I don't wait for further discussion. As soon as the last hiker is safely inside, I throw the shuttle into reverse, then spin it around, heading back toward the trailhead at a speed that would make Liam lecture me about lodge liability.

ChapterThree

Sarah

This was a terrible idea.

I adjust my backpack for the tenth time in as many minutes, trying to ignore the dampness seeping through my jacket. What started as a light drizzle has steadily intensified, and now fat raindrops hammer against the hood of my jacket, drumming a mocking rhythm that seems to say:amateur, amateur, amateur.

The trail that looked so manageable on my phone screen last night is now a treacherous ribbon of mud snaking up the mountainside. Each step requires more concentration than the last as my boots—stiff with newness—slide and stick in the increasingly slippery terrain.

"Just a little farther," I mutter to myself, though I have no idea how far the viewpoint actually is. The clouds have descended, shrouding the higher elevations in a thick gray mist that makes it impossible to see more than twenty feet ahead.

I pause, catching my breath against a large pine tree. The rational part of my brain is screaming at me to turn around. There won't be any spectacular view of three mountain ranges in this weather. The entire point of this hike has literally been swallowed by clouds.

But turning back now feels like admitting defeat. Like confirming I don't belong out here, that I'm exactly what everyone would expect. Sarah Miller, the baker who should stick to her ovens and measuring cups. Not Sarah Miller, the woman brave enough to step outside her comfort zone.

"The rain might let up," I tell myself, even as it continues to fall more heavily. "Maybe the clouds will clear once I reach the summit."

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