Page 80 of Protected By the Mountain Man

THIRTY

Gabe

This was bad.

The storm howled as we skidded into the parking lot at Bearclaw Mountain, the search party no more than twenty minutes behind us. We’d tracked Kat’s phone out here with Chris’s help, and I’d called Clay on the way out for backup, since he lived in the area. Clay was waiting in the parking lot when we arrived, and he climbed out in a heavy khaki coat and snow gear.

He was carrying a shotgun, and handed me one as we walked up.

I prayed I wouldn’t have to use it.

“Thanks, man,” I said as Chris got out. “Any sign of them?”

Clay nodded toward the trailhead. “Smashed phones right at the path up the mountain. One of ‘em was just cracked, had your dog there on the wallpaper.”

“Shit,” I cursed. “We need to get moving.”

Bandit was pacing in circles around us, pawing at the ground like he was anxious to get on the trail. He could smell them…I had to trust that. Owen wouldn’t have followed the trailhead if he was planning something nefarious. I knelt and scratched the dog behind his ears, his pants sending clouds of fog into the snow.

“You ready to find the girls, Bandit?” I asked.

He barked once—then he was off.

The three of us trailed him through the snow, up the mountain. The drifts got higher and higher, and soon we were wading through them…but I could see that someone had been through here. It gave me just a scrap of hope—the only scrap I needed to believe that I would see Kat and Livy again. I kept going, following Bandit as he led the way.

Our footsteps punched through the icy crust. I kept my eyes down, tracking prints that weren't ours, heart pounding a rhythm with each step, head on a swivel. Ears straining for?—

Rustling.

Not the wind's whisper but something alive, something moving deliberately.

“Freeze,” Chris hissed.

Guns up. Safety off. Sweat trickled down my spine despite the cold. It could be Owen. It could be?—

“Gabe…? Gabe!”

The bushes shook…and Livy appeared.

Her face tear-streaked, dirt smeared, a tiny figure limping from the tree-line. Relief slammed into me like a truck.

“Livy!” I shouted, holstering my weapon quickly.

“Gabe…you’re here…oh my gosh, you’re here…” Her voice cracked as she stumbled into me, arms wrapping tight around my waist. A sob caught in her throat. She was here. She was safe. Bandit danced around us, tail wagging furiously.

“Are you hurt?” The words were out before I could think, my hands on her shoulders, searching her face for signs of pain.

“I'm okay,” Livy insisted, despite the grimace that contorted her features as Chris knelt beside her and carefully unwrapped a blanket from his pack, draping it over her trembling shoulders. “But Kat…she needs help.” Her voice broke again as she pointed into the dense woods. “Owen has a knife and…”

“Stay with her, Clay,” I said, and he nodded, moving to Livy's side.

“Go get her,” Clay said.

I took off at a run. Bandit charged ahead, his nose plowing through the snowdrifts, sniffing out a trail only he could sense. My heart thudded against my ribs, each beat screaming urgency.

And then—red. Splashes of red stained the white canvas of snow.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.

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