Page 61 of Grump Hard
I pull out my cell to text Elliot and let him know I won’t be home for a bit, but that I’m okay, only to find I have no signal. Not so much as half a bar.
I curse beneath my breath.
I’ll have to head back to the house before my siblings get worried. Sadly, talking to Holly will have to wait.
I’m heading for the parking lot where I left the snowmobile when I notice a small group huddled near the gazebo in the square. Their body language is tense, agitated. Even from a distance, I can sense that something’s wrong.
As I walk past, I spot Willow, her purple coat bright against the white snow, her face pale and strained.
“—can’t just wait here,” she says, her voice rising with panic. “She’s been out of touch for nearly an hour, and the storm is getting worse.”
My stomach drops.
I head straight for them, demanding as soon as I’m in earshot, “Who’s been out of touch?” even though some part of me already knows.
The group turns to look at me. Besides Willow, there’s an older man I recognize from the gingerbread competition and two middle-aged women bundled in winter coats.
“Holly,” Willow says, looking relieved to see me. “She was helping us look for Cheeks after he was chased into the woods. We split up about an hour ago with promises to meet here, but she didn’t show.”
The world narrows to a single, crystalline point of terror.
“What time was she supposed to meet you?” My voice sounds strange, distant.
“Around five-thirty,” the older man says. “The last time I saw her, she was heading up one of the old logging trails they keep plowed for winter hikers.”
“The logging trails?” My heart is pounding now, blood roaring in my ears. “That’s miles of forest.”
“We know.” One of the women nods, her face creased with worry. “We called the police from the landline at the post office, but they said they can’t send anyone. There’s been an avalanche at one of the ski resorts. All of their resources are tied up there. They said since Holly hasn’t actually been out in the elements that long, and she’s an experienced hiker, she’s low priority at the moment. They said to check back in if she’s not home by nine, but?—”
“By nine?” I cut in, incredulous. “It’s a blizzard. She could freeze to death by nine.”
“We tried to tell them,” Willow says, her voice breaking. “But they wouldn’t listen. They said Holly likely found shelter somewhere and is waiting out the storm. They think everything will be fine, but…”
“But you don’t think so,” I finish.
Willow gives a tight, miserable shake of her head.
“I don’t either,” I agree. “I’ll find her. I’ll start looking right now.”
“Luke, no.” Willow grabs my coat sleeve. “The storm is too dangerous. You don’t know these woods the way Holly does, and the visibility is almost zero. You could get lost, too.”
I cover her hand, giving it a firm squeeze as I promise, “I won’t get lost. I promise. I played in those woods all the time as a kid.”
The older man steps forward. “Son, the trails look different in the winter. It won’t be easy. Some of them are barely marked, and in a storm this bad, she could have wandered off the trail without even realizing it.”
“Then I’ll search the entire forest if I have to.” I pull away from Willow’s grasp, heading toward the far side of the square.
“Wait, Luke!” Willow calls after me. “Here! At least take this!”
I turn as she staggers through the rising snow to press a flashlight into my hands. “Please, be careful. If you can’t find her in an hour, find a?—”
“I’ll find her,” I say.
It’s not a promise. It’s a fact.
I turn and hurry over the bridge, toward the dark line of trees visible beyond the old mill and a few historic homes. The wind is fierce now, driving snow into my face hard enough to burn. Within minutes, I can feel the cold seeping through my coat, biting at my skin.
I ignore it.
