Mara drained every drop of her tomato soup, sopping up the remnants with a pancake. Tanner did the same, and his delight warmed her soul. The food combination would have been strange in every other circumstance, but for that moment, it was manna. God had provided. Again.
When the meal was done, she wiped the tin cups with a paper towel she’d packed and used the clean cups to heat some of the bottled water, refilling the thermos and stowing it in the backpack. She wondered if she’d ever unlearn the habit. When the stove was cool she packed that too. Since she was wearing every item of clothing she’d brought including her pink hat, there was nothing else left to tidy up. She and the backpack would be ready to flee with Tanner and Britta in seconds if their attackers returned, but it would take a minute to climb aboard the snowmobile, start the engine, assess the storm-ravaged terrain. Would seconds be enough if Eli found them?
Cleanup complete, they wrapped themselves in the silver blankets as the temperatures continued to drop. Even with all the tent flaps zipped tight, frigid air seeped up from cracks between the wooden floorboards. All three of them shivered uncontrollably.
“D-do you think Eli will track us here?” Her breath puffed a white cloud into the air.
“No, but I’m going to scan every couple hours. Hoping we can ship out before dawn. As soon as there’s a break in the storm, we need to make tracks for the B and B. I’ll wake you when conditions look acceptable.”
“Let me help keep watch. I can do a shift.”
This time Tanner held up a finger. “I’m rested, I’ve been fed and my wound is healing as well as can be expected. My watch. No arguments.”
She was too cold to put up a fuss anyway. Cocooned in her silver blanket like a human baked potato, she rolled into a ball on the hard wood support, ruing the missing mattress. Like countless nights over the past seven months, the frigid conditions seemed to worsen with every passing moment. There had been some endless, lonely hours when she’d wondered if the morning would ever come, or if she would live to see it. But this time, she was not alone. Her shivers intensified. She barely felt the tap on her shoulder.
“Britta needs a pal.” She lifted her arm and Britta burrowed in next to her. The warmth of that furry body touching hers was exquisite. Britta pressed her cold nose to Mara’s chin and she scrubbed the dog’s neck gratefully. He draped the second silver blanket over them.
“Don’t you need...?” she started.
“Get some sleep.” Tanner’s tone was almost curt so she decided not to press. With her warm companion, her misery subsided enough that she drifted off.
Hours later she heard Tanner get up from his bed and felt the blast of air from the tent flap opening. He could not hide the violent chattering of his teeth when he returned.
“Tanner?”
“A-all c-c-clear.”
“You’re frozen. Take one of these silver blankets.”
“No, you...”
“It’s too cold. No arguments.”
After a long moment, he accepted. The silver crackled as his body tremored with cold from the opposite bed.
Gradually, Tanner’s shivering eased off and Britta’s throaty snore filled the space between them. It was still brutally cold, but her relief that Tanner wasn’t going to get frostbite or hypothermia allowed her to doze.
Over the next few hours she was vaguely aware that he’d risen again, twice more. The last time, she’d dozed, until he grasped her shoulder. Britta was already up, lapping water, wearing her snow booties.
Mara rubbed her eyes. “Danger?”
“No. Opportunity. Storm’s slackened.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost four.”
“Do we have time to eat?”
“Something cold.”
“No problem there. Everything’s cold.” Each joint and muscle screamed in discomfort as she clambered off her wooden bed. Never again would she take a mattress for granted. Forcing her numb fingers to perform, she fished through her pack and pulled out the jar of peanut butter and one of jelly, along with a sleeve of crackers. With a plastic knife she quickly made up three peanut butter and jelly cracker sandwiches for each of them and one for Britta. Using the instant coffee and a half cup of lukewarm water each, she prepared them a beverage.
He drained the coffee in three swallows. “Fantastic.”
“Wish we could warm more water to refill my thermos.”
She saw by the tense twitch of his mouth that wasn’t going to happen, so she drank her coffee and packed their cups.
Tanner dragged the cupboard they’d used to cover the raccoon hole back to its original position.
She cocked a brow at him, puzzled. “Are you afraid the establishment won’t like us leaving the furniture askew?”
He shrugged. “I figured the raccoon deserves to reclaim his space. Nothing should be out in this cold for long without shelter.”
A spot of warmth kindled in her heart. Tanner was a kind man, through and through. She presented him with his stack of crackers and one for Britta.
The dog lashed her tail in anticipation before Tanner gave her the cracker snack.
“She’s going to expect treats like this from now on.” His words were light, but she could hear the stress threaded underneath. In the glow of the tiny flashlight he’d activated, she caught the purple shadows of exhaustion under his eyes. He’d been up all night, freezing and in pain, trying to spot Eli in the tumult, the burden of the protector.
“I’ll drive,” she said quickly.
“We’ll split it. I’ll take the first leg. Ready?”
“After we change your bandage.”
This time he didn’t even sigh, simply unzipped his jacket and let her change out the dressing for a fresh one. Again there was no saturation and the wound looked no worse than the previous day. She tore off a length of medical tape and affixed the fresh pad. “You’re worried.”
“I’d feel a ton better if I could send a text or call Asher and the team. At least give them our location. Can’t get a single bar. It’s like we’ve been thrown down a well or something.”
“As soon as we get to the inn, we can get word out.”
He didn’t reply, but she knew what he was thinking.
It’s a long way between here and there.
“We’ll make it.” Before she could second-guess herself she pressed her hand to his face and kissed him softly. His lips were warm, scented with peanut butter. He cupped her palm against his cheek looking into her eyes with an expression she could not decipher. Was it wonder? Confusion? Longing? Maybe she was projecting her own feelings onto him.
He blinked and moved his hand away.
Recrimination flooded in. You were wrong to kiss him.
But it was just out of gratitude, not any other reason, she told herself.
Then why was that kiss looping warm circles through her body? And why did her stomach drop when he’d moved away?
“All set,” she said, only a touch breathlessly. “Locked and loaded, as you cops say.”
“Yes. Last leg. Ready to get this over with?”
The journey? Yes. Her time with Tanner? On that subject she wasn’t nearly as certain. Fortunately, he hadn’t waited for a reply. He was already unzipping the tent flap with Britta by his side, letting in a blast of biting air.
It was very clear that he was itching to finish his mission.
Ready to deliver her back to her life.
And him to his.
So get used to the idea. Your hours with Tanner are numbered.
But she knew she’d never forget the time in that freezing tent, fighting to keep one another alive, joined at a level they’d never experienced before. She’d always have that memory, no matter what happened.
With one last glance back at the empty tent, she plunged out into the cold.
Tanner felt each bump and dip in his aching bones as they eased their way into the trees. The weather had settled into a soft curtain of snow, still substantial, but the winds had died away. Easier to drive.
Easier for Eli to track them.
Comforting to have Britta and Mara sandwiched behind him, but disconcerting to remember how he’d felt in the wake of Mara’s kiss. It was as though all the knots holding him together had come loose at once, his heart, his mind, his emotions, unmoored.
He’d felt that only once before, when Allie died, and he’d promised himself—no vowed—that he would never allow himself to experience such profound rattling again. The love of his life was dead. He would go on without her until he was too. End of story.
But suddenly he was awash in the same feelings of uncertainty, lashes of joy in between waves of fear and worry.
Mara’s kiss...
He gripped the handles tighter and willed away the thoughts as the canopy above them thickened and the way became pitched upward.
“We’re close,” Mara said in his ear. “There’s a trailhead another half mile from here.”
He motored on, the tickle of unease over Eli’s whereabouts turning into a small stream. Eli would have to know they’d head for help, any kind of help. And the only thing for twenty square miles other than hunting and fishing cabins was the Rainier Hike-Inn. It was possible Eli didn’t know about the place if he hadn’t grown up in the area, but the guy was a whiz at finding information. Not that hard to ask a local or search it online if he could get onto the internet.
They found the trailhead, marked by a pile of stones mostly buried in snow. The top stone was engraved with Rainier-Hike Inn, 11 miles. Engine idling he stared up the narrow path barely demarcated by wooden arrows nailed into the trunks of the pines.
“Uphill, huh? No way the snowmobile can take that grade.”
Mara sighed. “But there’s a downhill to every uphill, as Dad used to say.” He heard the catch in her voice as she climbed off, Britta beside her.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “Reminds me of better days for Dad. I’ve worried about how much he’s slipped while I’ve been gone. What did he think happened to me? Did they tell him anything?”
“I’m not sure. I never asked Asher.”
She passed a hand over her forehead. “And the thing that really scares me. Will he recognize me when I get back?”
He squeezed her hand. “You can tell him stories. Remind him. He’ll probably be pretty excited to know you revisited the campsite he used to take you to.”
She nodded, as if trying to convince herself. “I’ll tell him when we get back.”
Together they pushed the snowmobile behind a clump of rocks and strapped on their snowshoes. He offered to take her pack.
“No. It’s lighter now that we drank the soup. Box of raisins before we hike?”
He didn’t want to take the time, but his stomach was hollowed out with hunger. They shared the last of the warm water and gave some to Britta, along with some dog treats. The raisins were gloriously sweet, plump in his mouth. “Never really appreciated a raisin before.”
“Me neither, but being a fugitive makes you enjoy all kinds of things that way.”
Packs in place, they began the arduous uphill trek. His thighs were burning after only a dozen strides. It was necessary to stop and catch their breath every fifteen minutes. He could hardly believe it was only eleven o’clock when he checked his watch as they tackled mile three. It felt as though they’d been traveling forever. The trail peaked and shifted into a looping path that was easier to navigate but less direct. Noon crept to one, two and almost to three o’clock before they spotted the roof of the log-sided structure. It was shrouded in white, but the tiniest curl of smoke emanated from the brick chimney. He rubbed his eyes to be sure he wasn’t dreaming.
The lodge really was standing there sturdy and solid, and obviously with a fire burning inside. Food, warmth, communication...a generator. Were they really so close to rescue? Finally eluding the threat that had dogged Mara since April? She was moving faster now, her face shining with hope that weakened his knees.
Britta too had a spring in her step as they clomped along the last stretch of the trail. All he needed was a working phone or enough of a signal to make the call himself.
He stopped on the porch, removed his police jacket and took off Britta’s official harness.
Mara gave him a quizzical brow.
“I want to get the lay of the land before we tell anybody our story.”
They removed their snowshoes and pushed open the heavy wooden door, greeted by a cozy paneled room with a blazing fire and sturdy wood furniture clustered around a braided rug. A desk cluttered with papers, file folders and three empty coffee mugs occupied the corner. A baseball bat was perched in the corner. For sport or protection?
Mara almost ran to the fireplace, yanking off her gloves and shoving her fingers nearly to the metal screen. Tanner hurried to the desk with Britta at his side.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
After several moments a middle-aged man with a drooping mustache appeared, a mug wrapped in his palm. “Oh, hey. Thought I was hearing things. Didn’t expect anyone to hike up here with our current weather situation.” He blinked at Mara and Britta through horn-rimmed glasses. “Name’s Pete.”
“Tanner, and this is Mara and my dog, Britta.”
He smiled. “Good thing we’re a pet-friendly establishment.”
Tanner had no time for chitchat. “Can I use your phone?”
“Aww, man, normally I’d say yes in a heartbeat, but everything’s knocked down. Only got enough juice from the generator to run the heat and lights upstairs and the bottom floor rooms have no power at all. Fortunately, there’s only one other couple here right now.”
“How about email?”
“Sorry. Computer service is out too and most people can’t text here even when we don’t have a blizzard. Storm should blow over in the next few days and they’ll get the cell tower fixed. In the meantime...” He shrugged.
Tanner felt his stomach contract to the size of a fist. No communication with Asher. Too risky to keep traveling. Had they moved from one vulnerable spot to another?
Mara was at his side now. “What about rooms? Two?”
Tanner felt the man’s eyes wander over him and then consider Mara. He wondered if he should reveal he was a cop, but he didn’t know how discreet Pete actually was. If Eli or Vinny did track them, who was to say that Pete wouldn’t take a bribe to rat them out? It was a possibility that Eli had already paid a visit to the lodge and coerced Pete to alert him if they arrived? Best not to take chances. “Two rooms,” he repeated. “For me and my cousin.”
“I can give you a couple upstairs that adjoin. Ground floor’s got no power except for the dining room like I said. I live here but my staff has to hike in and out so they’re all stranded at home. Thus there’s no maid or laundry service. I can offer snacks until they run out and a simple meal zapped in the microwave by yours truly, but that’s about it for amenities.”
“If the rooms are warm and there’s hot coffee, that’s more than plenty.” Mara gave him her thousand-watt smile.
He tipped his mug at her. “Right through that doorway is the dining room and there’s a fresh pot of coffee. I’ll get your keys and bring them to you.” He raised an eyebrow. “After we take care of the payment.”
Tanner blinked. They’d been so far removed from the real world he’d forgotten how things were done. He handed over his credit card.
“Tanner Ford,” the clerk said, reading the card. He looked at Mara. “And your last name?”
“Smith,” Tanner supplied. “Go on through and get yourself some coffee,” he told her. “Pour some for me too, okay?”
Mara understood. Pete wasn’t to be trusted. She nodded and left.
“So,” Pete said as he gave Tanner a bill to sign. “Where’d you folks hike in from?”
“You know what, Pete?” Tanner said with a warm smile, “I’m so bushed I can hardly stand. Gotta get my dog some water and thaw out. I’ll fill you in soon, okay?”
Pete capped the ballpoint pen. “Sure thing. Chat later.”
But Pete knew Tanner had avoided the question. He could feel the clerk’s eyes following him and Britta as they went to find Mara. Suspicion prickled his skin. Was Pete an enemy or friend? They’d likely have to wait a few more days to establish contact with the PNK9 team.
In forty-eight hours, who knew what could happen?
They might have found respite from the storm, but they were still a long way from home.