Page 19 of Found By the Surly Ranger

JACE

Mrs. Honeywell is very apologetic but explains that the books I had requested haven't come in yet. I assure her that's fine, then we end up chatting for a moment about an upcoming town meeting about how to boost local tourism in a responsible way.

Kara comes out of the bathroom, and I watch her wander through the stacks for a moment. I love that she finally looks like she's starting to relax here.

When she steps outside into the entryway, I want to stop her. I don't want her outside alone even for a split second. Yet I don't want to be rude to the sweet librarian. Plus, of course, I don't want to feed Kara's fears. There's no conceivable way anyone could harm her in the ten seconds it would take me to get to the door.

So I keep chatting to Mrs. Honeywell, then thank her, then turn back to the front entryway.

Kara is gone.

Racing to the door, I peer down the sidewalk in one direction and another. Nothing.

Something clicks when I see a silver Mercedes across the street. My hands are already fists, blood pounding through my veins.

"Did you see the girl that was just standing here?" I ask Mr. Yates from his perpetual perch on the bench out front.

"Tiny little thing? Long dark hair? Yeah, she was just here."

"Where did she go? Was she with anyone?"

"No, she was alone." He shrugs. "Think she saw something that freaked her out. One second she's standing there with the sun on her cheeks, then she tears off in the other direction." He points. "She went down the laneway next to the shoe store."

"Thanks," I mumble, already running full tilt, my laptop bag banging on my hip as I pelt down the alley.

Straight ahead is a parking lot, a small street with storage units…and the edge of the forest. She must've made a break for it.

Shit.

I can't call her – she doesn't have her phone with her. Even if she goes somewhere else for help, there's no way for her to contact me, since she doesn't have my number. Maybe she might get lucky and run into someone I know…or, more likely, people that just know of me.

Running toward the edge of the woods, I know that she's probably way ahead of me – especially since my poor sweet baby is probably cranked on panic and raw adrenaline.

I wait until I'm a good fifty feet into the woods to cup my hands around my mouth and holler. "Kara!" Standing perfectly still, I hear nothing but a few birds and the swish of the treetops as the wind picks up.

"Kara!" I bellow again. "It's Jace. Come back!"

Nothing.

Peering to the west, My gut twists as I notice storm clouds are gathering. This can't be happening. I will not allow my girl to be out here in the woods alone, wet, and cold. Not to mention scared. I'm going to have to round up some help to find her before it gets dark.

But even before that, I'm going to find the bastard who made her run in the first place.

13

KARA

After having Brad's threats echoing through my ears and mind for the past week, I feel a strange emotion come over me. It's past panic. Beyond fear. It's like my body has taken over from my brain and decided to put as much distance between us no matter what.

My heart pounds, arms, legs and lungs pumping as I make my way through the forest. There was a bit of a trail off that side street at the beginning – a little path that locals probably use for a short stroll on their lunch breaks. Once that disappeared, it became much more difficult, but my legs refuse to slow down.

Hopping over the smaller branches is relatively easy, even though I wobble on my left ankle a few times. But leaping over large logs becomes more and more challenging. I keep trying to keep my sense of direction, hoping that I didn't get mixed up during the relatively short drive from Jace's house to the library.

If I'm able to find a well-maintained path, there's a very good chance that it's Maple Trail, which I should be able to follow back to the trailhead. I'm not one hundred percent sure I can find Jace's house from there, but I have to try. At the very least I should be able to see the top of the mountain from there, and gauge direction and distance a little better.

My hands keep alternating between clenching into fists and fanning my fingers out for fear I'm going to fall on my face. Normally I'd be admiring the lush greenery all around me, but with my pulse hammering in my ears and my knees wobbling, it's all I can do to stay upright and keep my line of vision locked ten feet in front of me.

It's hard to keep track of time, but eventually I find a trail. It's not at all well maintained, but at least it's a path that goes vaguely in the direction I want. I think.

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