Page 4 of A Mountain Man Christmas

If she’d had a death wish, she would’ve been gone a long time ago, like the time arsonist Danny Reynolds tried to turn her into barbecued roadkill. Or when Sandy Mason tried to strangle her with her own handcuffs. Death was always a possibility when you were a bounty hunter. Only Lyla never actually went looking for it.

Well, technically, shedid, considering that the criminals she went after always seemed to lack a moral code. Being a bounty hunter meant death was always around the corner. But this was different. She hadn’t seenthiscoming. No one could have.

Snap!

The thin branch she’d been holding on to suddenly gave way under her weight, and she landed hard on her back with a groan. Good thing there was snow everywhere. Otherwise, by now, she would’ve landed in the ER.

Assuming anyone found her, that is.

“Oh, man. I think I’m getting too old for this.”

Another groan sent a plume of condensation from her lips as she sat up, a slight ache in the small of her back. The crooked, snow-covered branch lay in her lap.Perfect. She should be able to get a small fire going tonight with a spark from a rock and her handcuffs.

A wry smile tugged at her lips. She might be stranded, and she might not have found the man she’d been hunting, but at least the cuffs at her hip weren’t going to waste. They’d keep her alive for the next few weeks. Or days. Depending on whether she died of the cold or hunger first.

Lyla pulled herself to her feet, using the branch as a support. Even with her coat on, the cold seeped into her skin, sending a shiver through her body. With a sigh, she glanced around at her surroundings. She stood ankle-deep in the snow in the middle of a small wood of tall, snow-covered trees all growing toward the east of her position. Rays of soft, golden light streaked through the treetops, beyond which she could make out the fiery orange hue that had taken over the sky as the sun set in the distance.

Besides her own labored breathing and the crunch of snow under her boots, as she continued to head downhill, the wood was silent. Somehow, that was a lot more unsettling than if there had been creatures moving around nearby.

Beyond the wood, there was nothing but snow and more woods. At least as far as her eyes could see. It was all they’d registered the past three days she’d spent trudging down this damn mountain—or was it four? She’d lost her watch, along with many other belongings, when the plane fell out of the sky and crashed on the mountain.

A gust of cold wind brushed against her cheeks like a pair of icy hands. Lyla cursed under her breath.

“Is it just me, or is this place getting colder by the day?” she muttered.

Not that it was her biggest concern. No, her biggest problem right now was the fact that she was standing in the snow—real, white snow.

As she trudged, she glanced up to see the white flecks descending from the sky. Unless she was somehow mistaken, it was still November. It shouldn’t be snowing right now. It hadn’t been snowing when they left the airport or when they were flying over Nebraska. So why did it look like it had been snowing here for weeks?

Or was it months?Years? Time had become more and more difficult to pinpoint the longer she remained here.

She continued heading downhill, using the branch as a staff. Hopefully, by nightfall, she’d find someplace to rest till morning. She’d set up a campfire and pray she didn’t freeze to death in her sleep.

“Just how much longer is this going to take?” she heard herself sigh.

Her stomach growled suddenly, and she instinctively reached into her coat pocket, withdrawing a protein bar. Lyla bit her lip. Only two remaining. Besides the bars and a few nuts she’d found along the way, she’d had nothing to eat since the plane went down. She’d settled for a protein bar a day, but at the rate she was going, she’d be out of food in a matter of days.

Hopefully, help will get here before I starve to death,she thought.

But where washere, exactly? Days had passed, and she still hadn’t the faintest clue. Some place in the north, no doubt. Alaska? No, it didn’t seem very likely. If anything, this mountain reminded her of Everest. Only that made absolutely zero sense, considering the plane had been flying above Nebraska moments before it came apart and tumbled out of the sky.

The memory rushed through her mind, almost as violent as the accident itself. How Lyla had managed to make it out in one piece was almost beyond her. She remembered being surrounded by horrified screams as the body of the plane came apart. She’d held on for dear life as the rest of the plane hit a mountain that had appeared out of nowhere, sending several passengers careening out of their seats to their deaths and setting a few unfortunate ones on fire.

She’d crawled out of the wreckage, unable to conceive a single thought that didn’t have to do with her own self-preservation and moved as far away from the crash site as she could before pausing to check for any scratches or injuries she might have incurred. No vital injuries, nothing broken. Just a few cutsand bruises on her limbs, as well as a throbbing headache. An average work experience.

Thanking her stars, she’d done the one thing any sensible person who’d landed on a strange mountain would do: she’d headed downhill. In retrospect, it was a completely rational move. She’d just barely survived a plane crash. The last thing she needed was to wait around for help to come and get her. With her luck, she’d be as frozen as a prehistoric relic by the time the first rescue choppers showed up.

By now, she should have reached the bottom of the mountain or at least gotten pretty close. The problem was that no matter how far she traveled, she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. The mountain stretched as far as her tired eyes could see. Beyond it…well, it didn’t look like there was anything beyond this. Just the mountain.

Whereisthis place?

It shouldn’t be snowing this much at this time of the year. And she shouldn’t be here, either. None of this made any sense.

Somewhere in the depths of Lyla’s mind, just behind the constant reminder that she was in mortal danger the longer she remained on this mountain, something clicked: It didn’t make sense because it didn’t need to. It didn’t feel normal because, quite frankly, it wasn’t. It was—

“Magic,” she breathed, sending another plume of condensation from her lips. “Fucking hell.”

It was the only explanation that made sense right now. There was no logical explanation for the snow or the mountain because it wasn’t logical. It wasmagical. That was how they’d gotten here. And if she had to guess, it was why she couldn’t seem to get anywhere. Whatever was happening on this mountain had a bit of hocus-pocus to it.

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