An Alaskan Christmas

by Jennifer Snow

  Cassie.

  She hadn’t seen her childhood best friend in years. They’d been inseparable growing up, but their lives and careers had gotten in the way of the friendship over time. Her free-spirited friend was an adventure tour guide, still living in their hometown of Wild River, while Erika worked herself into forced vacations at the hospital in the city. Fun and leisure activities had never found their way onto her priority list. A drive to succeed pushed away any desire to relax. Eventually, when she’d reached her career goals, she’d slow down a little...enjoy life, but for now, she was focused solely on her career.

  Right now, she wouldn’t even know how to find fun if she had a direct map to it.

  Sitting up, she glanced at her calendar on the wall. It was November 30 and the weather that fall would ensure great skiing conditions on the slopes. Not so great for mountain driving, though. She’d never admit it, but the close call on the one-way had her feeling a little nervous on the roads these days.

  She bit her lip. She could take the train.

  Going to her computer, she confirmed times to Wild River for the next day. Less than a two-hour ride. The mountains weren’t that far from the city.

  Finding accommodations for that length of time proved to be challenging, though. Ski season was always booked well in advance, and with the village holiday activities starting that week, no hotel or B and B could accommodate the two-week stay.

  Should have checked that first.

  Opening Facebook, she went straight to Cassie’s page.

  When was the last time they spoke? Actually spoke, not quick Facebook messages or a “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Birthday” text, but an actual conversation?

  Flipping through her friend’s recent photos of winter camping and hiking through the trails, group shots of happy-looking adrenaline junkies on a heli-skiing trip...her already fragile confidence in the idea waned. Did they have anything in common anymore? As teenagers, it had been their differences that had connected them. She was studious and focused—exactly what Cassie had needed to help her survive the course load in high school. Someone to make sure she went to class and did the assigned work. Erika had tutored her friend in math and physics to make sure her grades were high enough to graduate on time. And in return, Erika had learned to relax and have fun once in a while from her high-on-life friend. Cassie forced her to take breaks, even if it meant stealing her textbooks for a few hours, and without her, Erika would have had no social life at all.

  Her gaze fell to her exposed wrist at the edge of her white blouse. The faint lines of a tattoo were starting to show through her tattoo concealer. The word Friend only legible because she knew what it said.

  The Best and Friend tattoos had been their gift to one another when Erika moved to Anchorage for university. They’d promised not to let life get in the way of their friendship. Erika almost always kept hers covered these days. She really should have it removed—it was hardly professional—but each time she made the appointment, she canceled it.

  She opened Messenger and hesitated. Could she really spend two weeks in Wild River? Would her friend be happy to hear from her?

  She released a deep breath and started to type. Only one way to find out.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THIRTY-SEVEN HOURS INTO the search and the twisting in Reed’s gut grew worse by the minute. The call from the state troopers’ office reporting a missing ten-year-old girl on the side of Wild Canyon Peak—where she’d been snowshoeing and camping with her parents—had sent over fifty search and rescue volunteers out on the mission immediately. November in the mountains was cold, unpredictable and they’d already experienced one small avalanche earlier that month.

  Reed pulled up his scarf and readjusted his headlamp. At six thirty, it was already pitch-black outside, making the search harder and his confidence fade. The bitter wind that had picked up since nightfall cut through his thermal jacket and the crew members near him—walking the trails where the young girl had last been seen—looked as tired and anxious as he felt. They were reaching a critical point and his only consolation was knowing that the girl had been dressed for the weather. Her parents claimed she was wearing a full snowsuit, gloves, hat and scarf.

  Snow crunched beneath his boots as he neared the edge of a cliff, peering over in the hopes of seeing the little girl. Snowdrifts made visibility in this area tough. His mouth felt like sandpaper, but he didn’t stop to take a drink. Not yet. Only on scheduled five-minute rests. He checked his watch. Nine more minutes until they took a mandatory break. He scanned the area as he took slow steps forward...his ten years of experience on the Wild River Search and Rescue making his senses sharp and focused, despite lack of sleep and the intensity of the unpredictable weather in the high altitude.

  As he approached the drop-off, he saw an orange scarf caught on a tree branch to his right. He almost released a sigh of relief—it was the first physical sign they were in the right area where the girl might be. But the proximity of the scarf to the edge of the cliff had his pulse racing. The high angle, steep incline was treacherous...the slippery rocks a major hazard.

  “Orange scarf located,” he said over the radio. “Proceeding with caution to edge of Wild Canyon Peak, hoping to obtain a visual.” Hooking a carabiner to his belt and fastening the harness support to the tree, he moved toward the edge.

  It was dark and the light reflecting off the snow hindered his ability to see into the depths, so he shut off the light as he scanned the rocky edge. “Rebecca!” he called, his voice reverberating off the mountain.

  To his right, several other rescuers approached. He motioned for them to stay back, as a block of snow gave way beneath his right foot, shaking him slightly off balance. The child may not have realized how close she was to the edge, because of the unsteady footing and false ground.

  “Rebecca!” he called again, moving closer. Rocks covered in shimmering frost were like glass beneath his boots. He peered over the edge, a shiver running through him as he took in the thousand-foot drop. No one could survive that fall.

  “Hello.”

  The sound was barely audible above the howling wind, but a rush of heat flowed through him as he turned toward it, about twenty feet below him to the right. Turning on the light again, he scanned the area. There she was. Sitting on a six-inch-wide ledge, her head rested against the side of the mountain, her eyes shut tight. Wind beat against her with so much force, Reed feared she could be blown off the ledge any second.

  The clock was ticking. They needed to move fast.

  “Hi, Rebecca. I’m coming to help you. Just stay right where you are. You’re doing great.” He had no way of knowing if that was true or not, he couldn’t assess her well-being from this distance, but he needed to reassure her. Providing relief and a sense of safety was an essential part of the rescue. If the endangered believed they were now safe, they were more proactive in their rescue.

  “I’ve located Rebecca. Side of Wild Canyon Peak. She is responsive,” he said over the radio, as two crew members approached after securing their own harnesses.

  “How are we proceeding?” Wade Baxter, one of the rescue leaders, asked.

  It was Reed’s month as head rescue leader, therefore he was calling the shots. “I’ll rappel to her, assess injuries and check approach angles. Get a litter ready in case we need it.”

  The man nodded, motioning forward two support crew members who dragged the carrier on the snow behind them.

  “Frank, can you belay me?”

  “Yes.” The older man, who’d been a team member for over twenty-five years, was the best person Reed could have at his side in that moment. Since retiring, he rarely came out on rescues anymore, but when there was a child involved, alone and lost, it was all hands on deck.

  Reed began his descent. “Rebecca, I’m going to come to you. Stay where you are. Just relax and don’t move.”

&nbs
p; Her nod was small.

  He could see she was clutching several branches protruding from the mountain. She’d lost her right glove, as well as her scarf, but other than that, her skin was covered, protected from the elements. Thank God. Frostbite set in within minutes in this cold.

  His own cheeks—his only flesh exposed to the elements—stung in the wind. They could expect her right hand to need medical attention. His boots slipped against the rocks and several gave way, falling to the base of the mountain.

  He moved lower and lower until he reached the ledge. Not trusting it to hold both their weight, he hung next to it. “Hi. I’m Reed. Can you open your eyes for me?” He wanted her to know she was safe, that she could trust him...but he would need her cooperation to get them out of there as quickly as possible.

  “No.”

  He saw the shape of her lips more than he heard the word.

  “Afraid of heights?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay. Well, I’m straight ahead of you. So just open your eyes and look straight ahead. You’ll see my goofy grin,” he said.

  Slowly, her eyes opened and the terror in them made his chest tighten. He ignored the what-if scenarios running through his mind and cleared his thoughts.

  Save the kid, get everyone back safe. Simple. Yet, not an easy task. Expect the unexpected.

  “You’re doing great,” he told her. “Are you hurt?”

  “My hand was hurting but not anymore...”

  Frostbite. Hopefully, they weren’t too late.

  “And my leg.”

  He glanced toward her legs, where her snowshoes still dangled from her feet. The right leg was twisted in a grotesque angle. Numb and in shock right now, she couldn’t feel the severity of the injury, which was good. He hated to think that she’d been out there that long alone, scared and in pain. Keeping his voice calm, he radioed. “We will need the litter. Start lowering it to the left.”

  “Is my leg broken?” she asked, daring a glance at it.

  “Yes.” He wouldn’t lie. She would need to be prepared for what came next. “But we are going to get it fixed up in no time. We have an ambulance waiting on the trailhead. Just a few more minutes...and your parents are there...”

  “No!” She moved away, clinging to the branches. New fear on her face.

  “Whoa, hold up. Stay still.” He’d seen this before. Lost children were surprisingly terrified that their parents would be angry. He knew after interviewing hers that nothing could be farther from the truth. The young couple was going crazy—worried about their little girl. Relief would be their only emotion when she was brought back safely. “Your mom and dad are not mad. They are worried and they love you. They can’t wait to hug you.” Reunions after rescues were the only consistent element to this job.

  Tears slid down the little girl’s cheeks. “I was supposed to stay with the group,” she whispered.

  “Getting lost happens. This isn’t your fault.” He glanced overhead and saw the litter approaching. To the left of it, Wade rappelled down the mountain. About two minutes away. Adrenaline soared through his veins as he mentally prepared for what came next—getting her off the ledge and onto the carrier and getting her to the ambulance on standby, waiting for them.

  “I’m really scared,” she said, glancing up toward the litter.

  “Can I tell you a story?” he asked her.

  She nodded.

  “When I was about your age...” It was closer to fifteen, but he wanted her to identify with him. “My mom took my sister and me and our best friends camping just a mile from here. I decided to take a hike in the woods close to nightfall...and I got lost.” He actually hadn’t been alone, but the story worked better this way.

  Rebecca’s eyes widened.

  He glanced up. The litter was about five feet away. “I thought I knew the way back to camp, but as I started walking, I only got more and more lost.” The truth was, he had known the way. If he hadn’t been lost with his sister’s annoying, smart-ass best friend, who’d insisted the way back to camp was in the opposite direction, and if he hadn’t been gentleman enough to not let her wander off alone and get lost, he wouldn’t have been stranded with her overnight as they’d waited for the search crew to find them.

  Erika Sheridan. He’d told countless variations of this story over the years but the deep irritation he felt for her was always the same.

  “Night fell and I was still lost, so I thought really hard about what I’d learned from a Hug-A-Tree program I’d taken...” May as well turn this into an educational experience. “I remembered that the best thing I could do was to find a tree in an open clearing and stay next to it. Hug it if I felt nervous...” A memory of Erika, terrified and trembling in his arms that night fifteen years ago, flashed in his mind and he lost track of what he was saying. She’d been irritating right up until that moment when darkness had fallen, they were tired and hungry and he’d learned she was afraid of the dark. At that moment, he’d caught a glimpse of a different girl...

  Of course, her vulnerable side disappeared again as soon as they were rescued.

  “How long were you there?” Rebecca asked, her voice trembling as she shivered. Her body was going into shock.

  “Only one night, but it was scary and I was relieved when rescuers found us...me,” he said. “And now I help other kids who need it.”

  “I’m glad you found me,” she said, as the litter reached them. “What’s that?” Fear was back in her voice.

  “It’s kind of like a stretcher. It will help me get you back up the mountain safely, without hurting your leg.” Too much.

  “How do you want to do this?” Wade asked, dangling next to him.

  “I’m going to move closer and harness her in case that ledge decides not to hold,” he said as quietly and calmly as possible. “Then I need you to bring the litter closer. The right leg is broken and I can’t assess any other injuries right now.”

  Wade nodded. “Copy that.”

  Reed turned to Rebecca. “Okay. My friend Wade and I are going to get you to safety and I need you to be as brave as you have been out here alone, okay?”

  She nodded. “And you’re sure my parents aren’t mad?”

  He smiled. “Darling, believe me...if there’s anything crazy on your Christmas wish list this year, about an hour from now will be the best time to ask for it.” He winked at her and her frostbitten lips curled into a tiny smile.

  Time to get her home.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SIX MINUTES IN Wild River and already Erika was regretting this impulsive move. Which was why she never did anything impulsive. Waiting on the train station platform, she felt more than a little out of place. Her thin-heeled, three-inch leather boots and dressy cashmere winter coat looked ridiculous among the ski suits and winter boots the other travelers wore. She didn’t own anything like that anymore. She rarely went outside in Anchorage.

  Her large suitcase contained more of the same noncasual clothes, but she thought she’d packed at least one pair of jeans. She hoped.

  She forced a breath, taking in her surroundings. She hadn’t been back to Wild River since she left for university. The town nestled between the Chugach and Talkeetna Mountains was small with only two thousand residents. It was breathtakingly beautiful with its snow-covered peaks and untouched wilderness, but it was also her past and already she felt slightly claustrophobic.

  When Erika spotted her friend behind the wheel of a large SUV with the Snow Trek Tours logo on the door, Cassie gave an apprehensive wave, which didn’t fill Erika with confidence in her decision to come. As the vehicle stopped in front of her, Erika opened the back, put her suitcase inside, then climbed into the passenger seat. “Hi...”

  “Hey!” Cassie went in for a hug just as she extended a hand. Her fingers poked her friend in the chest and Cassie moved away. “Oh...okay...we�
��re shaking hands.”

  Erika pulled her hand back at the same time Cassie reached for it. “We don’t have to...sorry, that was dumb.”

  Cassie nodded, turning her attention back to the road. “Shall we just go, then?”

  “Yes,” she mumbled.

  As Cassie pulled her vehicle away from the train station, Erika stared longingly at the departures drop-off zone in the side mirror.

  She’d talked herself out of canceling a dozen times since booking the trip, and reaching out to Cassie the night before had required several glasses of wine. Her friend had seemed more than a little surprised when she’d responded to Erika’s Facebook message, but she’d invited her to stay for as long as she wanted. Erika hadn’t mentioned that this spur-of-the-moment vacation wasn’t her idea. In all honesty, she’d be back on a train headed home if the next train wasn’t scheduled to leave for Anchorage days from now.

  Especially if this awkward silence continued. Obviously, the ten years between them might be about ten years too long.

  Erika started to sweat beneath her coat, suddenly feeling like she’d accepted a ride from a stranger.

  Which was ridiculous. They’d been best friends. They’d shared their deepest secrets. Time couldn’t have changed them that much, could it?

  She cleared her throat, unwrapping her scarf from around her neck as a blast of warm air reached her. “So...you like living here?”

  “I do.” Cassie glanced at her. “And you—you’re happy living in the city?”

  “My apartment’s a few blocks from the hospital, so it’s convenient.”

  Cassie nodded.

  Silence.

  “You’re an adventure tour guide?”

  “I own a mountain adventure company.”

  “Own it? Wow.”

  Cassie shot her a questioning look.

  Erika’s face grew hot. “Not like wow as in I didn’t think you could own your own company...but wow as in, I’m impressed... Owning a business is really hard and a lot of work...” God, she was making it worse. “Just that I’m happy for you.” Just shut up, Erika.