“I know,” I agree. “Do you have flares?”
He nods.
“Me too. Whoever finds them first, send one up.”
He nods.
I turn and suck in a breath.
A beautiful caribou doe stands nearby, her eyes wide and placid as she languidly paws at the snow. She lifts her head to stare at us calmly.
Animals typically feel a storm and instinctively look for shelter.
This doe is unconcerned.
“You’re beautiful,” I murmur to her, taking this one brief moment to appreciate her. This is the reason I don’t like hunting parties. The pure trust in her eyes as she watches me. If the Nortons had encountered her . . . I swallow hard.
The wind picks up, and the compass in my pocket begins rattling in a strange and noisy way. The doe startles, bounding away on the packed snow. I pull the compass out, and the arrow is spinning. It must be broken, because it won’t stop spinning.
Great.
I shove it back in my pocket and follow in the direction the doe has taken, while Dan sets out the opposite way.
The snow quickly becomes a whiteout. The wind howls, and I can’t remember the last time we let something like this happen.
It would never have happened when Gran was alive.
I trek through the snow, ignoring the cold tang on my lips. I layered Vaseline on them before I left, but thanks to the bone-chilling wind, they’re already dry.
“Piper!” Dan yells. I scan the swirling snow, trying to find him. “Piper! You need to see this!”
“Dan?” I call. “Shout again. I’ll follow your voice!”
He yells again, then again, but the snow has disoriented me. It’s hard to see which way is up.
I take another step, then another, and suddenly, I’m falling.
Chapter Three
I don’t know how long I’ve been out when I open my eyes.
Long enough that my fingers and toes feel frozen.
“Dan!” I shout, pushing at the snow around me. I’m in a hollow snowbank, and it’s a person’s best chance of survival if they’re out alone and lost. The snow insulates you, and actually makes you warmer.
But I know Dan is near and he needs to see where I am.
I tear at the snow, trying to climb to the top.
The cold burns my face, but I ignore it, scratching at the snow, pulling it down by the handful.
“Hello?” someone calls.
“Can you hear me?” I scream. “I’m in here!” I shove at the snow, hoping to break through so they can see my fingers.
“Hello!” they call again. “Keep shouting!”
So I do, and five minutes later, someone grabs my hand.
I’m hauled through the snow and to the top of the bank, surrounded by men in hunting gear.
The Nortons have rescued me? How embarrassing.
But they’re not the Nortons. I realize this as they peer down at me, and I don’t recognize one single face. They’re bearded and rugged . . . nothing like the Norton party.
I look around, and the blizzard has died down. The snow is no longer swirling.
“My friend,” I tell them. “Dan. He must be close. We were together.”
The man in front eyes me oddly.
“Ma’am, you’re the only one here. There’s no one else out here now.”
“Dan was with me,” I tell them firmly. “A search party is on their way. I’ve got clients out in this.”
They all glance at each other.
“Miss, you should come with us and warm up,” the front guy says. “You could have frostbite. I’m Dale.”
He offers me his hand. “Let us take you somewhere warm.”
“I live nearby,” I tell them. “I can call for a ride when we get there. Do you have a signal?”
“Signal?” Dale asks. “We’ve got a radio, if you need it. Shortwave only, of course.”
“Why only shortwave?” I ask as we turn to hike.
“Because of the war,” he says slowly. “Long-range radios are banned. We’ve really got to get you warmed up; you’re not thinking clearly. You’ll have to tell us what you’re doing out here alone. It’s not safe.”
“I know,” I insist. “I live here. Great Expectations Lodge. Do you know it?”
They’re silent, all four of them, as they eye me.
“She needs to be looked at,” Dale tells them, and they all nod. They pull me along as we climb down the mountain. I take in their bulky canvas overcoats and wonder where they’re from.
“Why are y’all out here?” I ask, trying to ignore the cold nipping my face.
“Hunting,” one of them tells me.
“This is private property,” I tell them. “I mean, thank you for pulling me out of the snow. But most of this mountain belongs to Great Expectations.”
“Well, you’re lucky we heard you,” Dale says to me, unconcerned. “Or you’d be in a spot of trouble right about now.”
I scan the area and don’t see a trace of Dan. “I can’t imagine where Dan went,” I mutter. “He wouldn’t have just left me.”
“Ma’am, we didn’t see anyone else, and we’ve been out for hours. The nearest town is five miles away, and this time of year, no one can easily travel to Wander. If someone were out here, we’d have noticed.”
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I mumble.
“No, ma’am, it sure doesn’t,” one man agrees. I glance at him and the others, and they all just seem bewildered.
“Haven’t you ever seen a woman alone out in the snow before?” I joke. But they all shake their heads, expressions serious.
“No,” they all answer.
“You gentlemen should get out more,” I advise.
We continue walking, and it’s not long before we reach the clearing to the lodge. They all walk toward the doors, and as we get closer, I realize that it looks like the lodge . . . but it’s different.
I stop. The logs seem so much newer, the wraparound porch isn’t here, and the Bobcat isn’t poking around the corner. Also . . . the sign.
The big wooden sign looms in front, painted in bright blue. Great Expectations. Rooms for rent.
Rooms for rent?
I’d think I was in the wrong place, but this is the lodge, it’s just . . . different.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, staring at the carved wooden doors. Those are custom to Great Expectations, and we’ve had them for over a hundred years. They look brand-new now.
“You must’ve hit your head pretty hard,” Dale says, taking my elbow. “Let’s get you out of the cold and something hot to drink.”
I don’t argue and follow behind as the man leads me into my own house.
Only . . . it’s not.
I gaze about the foyer, and I don’t recognize it. There are black-and-white photographs framed over the fireplace, the furniture is old-fashioned, yet new, and the woman walking in our direction in the dress and apron is someone I’ve never met in my life, even though she seems vaguely familiar.
“Dale, what in the world?” she exclaims, and she grabs me gently, patting my cheeks with her hands. “Can you hear me, dear?” she asks, her nose in my face.