Page 46 of My Three Mountain Men

“I still think you should forget about the traps,” Brooks insisted. “It’s really unnecessary, Ry—”

I held up a hand. “I’m not going far,” I insisted. “I’m just checking the ones around the perimeter. I’ll be back before my shift starts.”

“Don’t argue with him, Brooks. You’ll need all your energy for shoveling,” Knox quipped.

Neither of my cousins followed me back out to the mudroom, but I heard them talking in low voices as I gathered my sack and bundled up in a fresh balaclava and dry gloves. My snowsuit was wet on the outside, but the interior was still dry. These top-of-the-line, thermal-charged outfits were worth every penny and designed for arctic trekking.

Dropping the trap sack over my shoulder, I pushed open the back door and headed into the storm. But even as the swirls of white attacked my vision, blurring my sight in front of me, I could clearly see Simone’s vivid irises wracked with worry as she saw me off, silently begging me not to go.

* * *

The traps had all been set in more or less the same places for as long as we had been up there. We moved them a few feet away to account for the smarter animals. People underestimated woodland creatures and their ability to communicate even among the species. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t witnessed firsthand how the birds and insects interacted, warning one another of dangers in subtle, indiscernible ways that I couldn’t quite explain in words—or if I tried, I’d be looked at like I was insane.

But there was a rhythm to nature, a rhyme of ebb and flow, and the traps we set were systematic according to these laws. Everything we caught, we used. We ate the meat, utilized the fur, burned the fat, and saved the bones. While we weren’t truly survivalists, having the means to purchase some comforts, we truly did try to live off the land as much as possible. Growing our own vegetables in a garden that Knox kept all three seasons, pickling what we could. We were still learning, but for the most part, our lives were becoming more self-sufficient by the year.

Eventually, I hoped that Brooks’ trips into Loganville for supplies would be limited to once or twice a year for fuel and ammunition.

My eyes burned by the time I arrived at the first trap, but as I suspected, one of the other larger animals had already gotten whatever had been caught. I’d waited too long. This trip had been for nothing. I could already tell.

No. Not for nothing. It’s giving me some much-needed space from that pull I’m feeling toward Simone.

Not that I couldn’t feel it just as strongly out there. I could almost hear her concern calling across the trees, willing me back to the cabin through the whipping snow, and I found myself relenting as I stumbled through the calf-high drifts toward the next trap.

This is stupid, and I’m wasting energy. If there’s nothing here, I’m—

I didn’t even have time to finish my thought, as a low growl emanated through the pines to fill my ears.

Slowly, carefully, I turned around, my heart firmly in my throat as a pair of bright yellow eyes peered back at me from four feet away. The mangled corpse of a hare clenched in her jaws, the she-wolf snarled again.

And then I heard the crunch of several more sets of paws on the snow around me.

CHAPTER21

Simone

Ilooked at the time on the stove again, twisting the tea towel in my hands nervously. “It’s been well over an hour, Brooks,” I said again. “Why isn’t he back yet?”

Brooks shook his head, droplets of water still spraying with the movement as he did. Knox had taken over the task of shoveling while Brooks rested, but Ryder was nowhere to be found.

“He’s a big boy, Simone. You don’t need to worry about Ryder.”

“The weather is really bad,” I insisted. “What if he’s trapped somewhere, or he’s lost—”

“He’s not,” Brooks cut me off, reaching for my hands to calm me down. “Don’t forget that he’s done this many, many times.”

But it didn’t matter what Brooks said. I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread creeping up on me with every minute that passed with Ryder still away.

“Brooks, you have to go look for him!” I exploded when Knox came back in, half an hour later. “He said he would be back for his shift shoveling, and he’s not back!”

Knox rubbed his hands together, shivering and shaking, his lips blue with cold, and my apprehension mounted. Ryder had been out there a lot longer than Knox now.

“What’s going on?” Knox asked.

“Ryder’s not back yet!” I cried. “You guys have to go look for him. If you don’t, I’m going myself!”

The cousins looked at one another, Brooks standing. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled. “But you’re right. He should have been back by now.”

“Shit,” Knox muttered. “What do you think happened?”

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