Bittersweet: Can she rebuild her life?

by Lyz Kelley

Chase headed for the door. “There’s equipment in my truck. I’ll head south if you want to head north.”

  Leza nodded. Heath caught her hand. Chase headed for the door.

  “There’s a first aid case and water bottle in the kitchen. Take my backpack if you need it.”

  “Will do, thanks.”

  “Leza?”

  She paused. Her hope-crushing expression resembled the nauseating emotions churning in his stomach. “We’ll find her.” The tiny hint of a smile didn’t make him feel any better.

  An urgent need pressed on his chest. “El said something interesting yesterday.”

  “Oh,” she walked back toward him. “What’s that?”

  “She was worried about me loving her.” He waved off Leza's concern. “I assured her I did, but she challenged me about loving you.” He gulped courage. “I admitted I loved you, and promised I had room in my heart for both of you.”

  Leza shook her head trying to rattle the pieces together. “What are you trying to say?”

  “That I love you, as much as I love El. I know you’re afraid I’ll leave you or be killed. I understand the fear. I do. But I’m willing to do what needs to be done to ease your concerns. I discharged from the Marines for El, and if I have to, I’ll find a new job to be with you.”

  She stared at him for a moment, her jaw slack. “We need to discuss this later,” she said as she hefted his backpack to her shoulder. “We need to focus on finding Ellie.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Later. Because there will be a later.”

  She bundled her hair, twisting it around and around to form a bun. “Stay close to your phone. I’ll text if I find anything.”

  “Please be safe.” If he could, he would have swooped her into his arms and held her until she accepted what he knew she sensed but didn’t want to admit.

  “And Leza?”

  With one hand on the door handle, she turned. “Yeah?”

  “If anyone can find El, you can. If...no when...you find her, tell her I love her, too.”

  She paused briefly at the door to look back at him, her face a puzzle.

  By the time he took a breath to speak she’d already slipped through the entryway and closed the door behind her.

  The room was blanketed by suffocating silence, like a tomb.

  He spread his hands over the map. “El, Where the hell are you?”

  She couldn’t be far. She had to be close. He repeated the positive affirmation over and over again.

  He dialed everyone he could think of. Even when he didn’t know them well, he asked for their help. This was for El. His precious El.

  After an hour, he still had no word or sightings of El, but he'd convinced two dozen people to help look. He set up a grid pattern, and with each new person added, he expanded the search pattern, overlapping each area.

  Air support would have helped, but the pilots were grounded because of the incoming weather.

  He checked the storm map. The turquoise and dark blue, with bits of pink, showed the deeper concentration of snow heading toward the ridge. He had maybe an hour, and not much more.

  The urgency of the situation doubled.

  The temperatures were already dropping.

  El’s light winter jacket was the only one missing, and it wouldn’t be enough. Over the next two hours, the storm indicators predicted a thirty-degree temperature drop. He hoped to the powers above that she hadn’t taken her coat off when the temperature rose earlier.

  His mind whirled with what-ifs and maybes and hopes.

  The buzz of his phone vaulted him out of his sinking reverie.

  “Heath. It’s Leza. Does Ellie have pink mittens with purple butterflies on them?”

  “Yes.” His heart pounded against his rib cage. “Did you find something?”

  Her voice cut in and out. He couldn’t decipher her response. Dammit. “Leza, can you repeat what you said?

  “I found footprints,” He closed his eyes to hear through the static. “Search crew…static...lower Hunter’s Hill logging trail…static.”

  “Leza, are you trying to tell me to send the search crew to the logging trail below Hunter’s Hill?”

  He cursed the static until he heard only silence. The call had disconnected. He dragged his finger along the Hunter logging trail.

  Holy shit. That’s more than six miles from here.

  He brushed away the probabilities forming in his head. He’d seen miracles happen.

  Odds against El were stacked so high. The possibility of survival diminished with each passing minute—but people did survive.

  But he’d actually witnessed other miracles. In the military, he’d seen people survive when medically the odds of recovery were slim to none.

  He had to believe someone would find her, because what else could he do? Leza would find El. That’s what his gut said, and he hoped his instincts weren’t wrong.

  “Please, please, bring her home.”

  Chapter 21

  “Come on. You can do this.”

  Leza emphasized the words to convince herself the encouraging words were fact. She’d walked for miles, calling, searching for additional clues.

  “Ellie, where are you?”

  The surrounding woods didn’t respond. Not that conversation was expected. Nor was there the expectation that a squirrel might run along a tree branch, chattering away to explain how the you can do this statement had million tiny holes and leaked like a colander.

  She wasn't okay. Physically, yes. Mentally, not even close.

  Heath had said he loved her, and nothing in his expression or body language conveyed even a hint of doubt.

  She blew out a breath and continued to watch the trail for signs of a dog or a little girl who shouldn’t be this far away from safety, but the foot and paw prints kept leading her farther up the ridge.

  The face of her father floated to the top of her memories. He’d lost sight of her in Central Park one spring day. When he found her, after showing her picture to everyone he passed, she’d thought his frantic expression funny.

  Heath’s expression when she left was eerily like her father’s had been that day.

  If she didn’t find Ellie, and soon, Heath would insist on searching, busted foot or not.

  She checked the sky. Gray, angry clouds crested the ridge and rolled toward her like a bowling ball ready to flatten the pins. Her feet and shoulders and everything in between ached. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve.

  “Ellie! Where are you?”

  She couldn’t imagine why Ellie might be this far out. Sure, she wandered away from Heath before, but never far.

  Leza’s muscles screamed and her lungs burned as she trudged up another hill. At the crest of the ridge, she leaned against a pine tree to catch her breath and remove a pebble from her hiking boot. Her hair whipped around her face, but she was too tired and anxious to do anything to contain the tangled, knotted mess.

  Birds overhead chirped warnings about the pending storm.

  She reached over her shoulder, searching for the nylon whistle strap, and placed the metal whistle between her lips, blowing long and short high-pitched tones that echoed across the canyon.

  She stopped to listen for the reactions of some kind, not expecting to hear anything.

  This time, however, she could have sworn a dog barked.

  Or was it her imagination creating the noise she hoped to hear?

  She filled her lungs and blew another set of shrill notes.

  The frantic sound of barking echoed off the hills. But in what direction did the barking come from?

  Unfolding the area map, she held the paper against the nearest tree, and pressed a finger to her location. Right led to the creek. Left a logging road. She closed her eyes, remembering the times she’d jogged along the animal trails, memorizing the area while undercover. She’d spent months trying to find the underground caverns rumored to be in the hills, and had traversed even the unmapped tr
ails.

  Then her mind paused. Columbines.

  Ellie had mentioned columbines and day camp. The campers often hiked the woods and trails around town. Yet columbines grown in nature were sparse. Hmmm…

  Sam’s cabin.

  He loved the flower and planted new seeds every year. She studied the mountain ridge to gauge her location. His cabin was just down the road, and well within the search zone.

  Taking out her phone, she checked her signal. One bar. She sent off a text to Heath relaying her coordinates and an update.

  When the text read delivered, she shoved the map back in her pocket and hustled up the trail until she found a way to cut back across the ridge.

  As the trail steepened, her thighs began to quiver, and she took each step methodically and carefully to avoid rolling down the hill. When she started to shiver from the dropping temperature, she reached into her bag and slipped into her insulated fleece.

  Ahead, barking and the sounds of movement made her pause to listen. There. She turned to home in on the sound. There. She adjusted her position slightly and sprinted up the trail.

  A distinctive snort made her skid to a stop.

  Oh. Crap.

  Thirty feet away, a black bear stood on its hind legs, checking the scents on the nearest tree. The massive tree moved like a flagpole in heavy wind. When she took a step back, the bear glared with his beady eyes and lifted a snarling lip.

  Holy double crap.

  She backed up, keeping an eye on the bear. Suddenly, the soft trail edge gave away.

  She tumbled. Colors mixed together. Sounds ceased.

  He body slammed against an immovable object.

  Breathing grew difficult.

  Searing pain ripped through her arm.

  Her back and limbs shrieking with pain.

  Can’t move. Why can’t I move?

  She tried lifting her arm again but couldn’t.

  Luckily the bear didn’t come to inspect her.

  Think. You need to think.

  Fighting the pain, she hauled herself up in easy stages to a sitting position, then tugged a bandana out of her backpack and rolled the thin cloth around her bleeding hand.

  Time to text Heath. She reached into her jacket pocket for her phone. Breath locked in her chest. Empty. The pocket was empty.

  Shit.

  Closing her eyes, she dropped her chin to her chest.

  The forty-degree slope and loose soil wouldn’t be easy to climb on a good day. When injured? Almost impossible. Her phone had disappeared somewhere in the mass of thick foliage. At this point, the device could be anywhere.

  She fought against the suffocating fear.

  “Think. You’ve been in worse situations. Think.”

  A sound from above made her lungs empty of air.

  Please don’t let that be the bear. Please. Please. Please. Please don’t let that be the bear.

  Tugging on the whistle strap secured to her backpack, she put the whistle in her mouth and blew over and over and over again to frighten away the stubborn, hulking bear.

  She’d give anything to have her sidearm. The caliber wouldn't stop a bear bigger than a Smart Fortwo Coupe—but still—the noise and sound of the shot might make him think twice.

  When the shuffling of branches and leaves came closer, she blew again and prepared for the worst.

  Her entire body quaked. Stay focused. Come on. You can do this.

  A small face appeared over the ridge above.

  “Leza?”

  The small sound swished joy around in her chest. “Ellie? Thank God you’re alive.”

  Gunther appeared at El’s side. “There’s a bear up here. We need to hide.” Ellie sounded really scared.

  Adrenaline-hyped laughter bubbled up before Leza could stifle it. “Yeah, I know.”

  Leza analyzed the hill. Each log, branch, shrub. How the hell could she slay this climb?

  “Ellie, do you know any songs you can sing?” she shouted from below.

  “A few,” came the confused reply.

  “I need you to stay where you are and sing. I need to know you’re there, and so does the bear. He probably won’t bother you if you sing loud—and I mean really, really loud.”

  “You want me to sing?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Ooooo-kayyy.” The skepticism in her voice made Leza pray Ellie wouldn’t argue.

  A few seconds later, a song from the movie Frozen came drifting down the hill.

  Leza gulped a gallon of relief.

  Now to manage that hill.

  Leza tried to pushing off the ground, but the explosion of pain made her dizzy.

  She closed her eyes against the spinning scenery to breathe slowly and deeply through the agony. She’d visited hell before. She knew what the movement had cost, but for Ellie, she needed to again pay the price.

  Her swollen feet and stiff legs barely held her weight. She adjusted her backpack, gripped the bandana stanching the flow of blood from her hand, and began to climb.

  She planted one foot on the soft soil, then the next, all the while holding her left arm to her middle. She reached for the nearest branch with her right and repeated the process, keeping her attention firmly on the ground.

  Ellie’s song floating from above gave her comfort and a destination. Pain racked her, but she kept climbing, remembering every few minutes to look for her phone.

  An eternity later, a small, concerned face peered over the edge of the hill. “Leza, can I help? We need to go. I think I heard something.”

  “Gunther will bark if he sees anything. Keep him close. He’ll protect you.” She said it to ease Ellie's fears, knowing the young untrained dog wouldn’t be much help. “Hang in there. Just a few minutes more.”

  The beginning stretch had been much easier than the last ten feet. She’d have to crawl the last little bit. And she’d crawl...for Ellie, for Heath, for herself.

  Halfway up she’d done some soul-searching. She wouldn’t quit living. Not now. Not ever. So how come she let fear block the way? She had a lot of life left to live, and she shouldn’t be living scared.

  There were much worse things than love to be afraid of—like bad guys and bears.

  A rustling sound came from above, then dirt and rocks and a tree branch came sliding down the hill. “I found a branch to help.”

  Ellie sounded so pleased with herself, Leza didn’t have the heart to tell Ellie if the branch wasn’t secured, the kind gesture wouldn’t help. She’d just pull the girl over.

  “That’s great, Ellie. Good thinking,” she encouraged, and continued to push with her legs.

  A foot from the top, small hands circled Leza's upper arm and pulled.

  Gunther whined and licked Leza’s face. He wiggled his stub of a tail and his bottom with more energy than she had left.

  She reached with her good hand to reassure the pup. “Good boy. You kept Ellie safe, didn’t you, boy?”

  Ellie stood next to Gunther shivering, her chattering teeth sounding almost like a woodpecker.

  Leza tipped her head back. “We need to move off this ridge.”

  “I can’t. I'm tired…” Thick tears rolled down Ellie's face. “...and my feet hurt. Can't someone come get us?”

  “Ellie. Listen to me. The sun will set soon, and there’s a storm coming our way. We need to find shelter, and I can’t carry you. You and me, though, we can do this together.”

  With a trembling lip, Ellie nodded.

  Leza wrapped her arm around Ellie’s quivering shoulder and blinked to clear the pain haze. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  The moisture in the air penetrated right to the bone. Neither Ellie nor she would last much longer out in the elements. She just hoped she could hold on long enough. At least the trail sloped downward at a manageable angle, and a pile of snow had allowed her to quickly clean the scrapes on her hands.

  A mile in, Ellie’s feet were shuffling and dragging along the trail. Even Gunther kept looking back at Leza, wondering wh
en they could stop.

  She wished she had an answer.

  The wind had picked up. The pines bent and swung back and forth. Dried leaves and other light debris pelted them in the face.

  Disheartened, she tucked her face into the top of her jacket and trudged on, keeping Ellie and Gunther in front, occasionally encouraging El to look at a flower or tree or slug, anything to keep her mind occupied.

  A half a mile farther on, Ellie pointed. “Look!”

  Ellie's excitement took Leza’s mind off the constant throbbing.

  In the meadow ahead of them an old hunter’s cabin sat hunkered in the trees. The pain pummeling her left Leza in too much agony to reply, so she just nodded and altered course.

  Every molecule shivered. Cold, pain, exhaustion had set in. Her warm breath swirled into the twilight lit sky as she trudged up the small incline behind Gunther, who did his best to help pull Ellie up the hill.

  Twenty yards away, Ellie stumbled to the door and knocked, then turned with a melancholy face. “I don’t think anyone is home.”

  “No. I doubt the owners are home, but we can’t beat the coming storm. We’ll have to stay here tonight. Is the place unlocked?”

  Ellie tried the front door. The doorknob jiggled but didn’t open.

  Leza scanned the doorframe, the windowsills, then finally spotted a strange rock. “There.” She pointed. “See that rock?”

  Ellie reached for the purplish gray rock. “It’s a key.”

  “See if the key works on the door,” Leza said, already pretty sure the hide-a-key would work.

  Gunther nudged his way inside as soon as the door opened.

  Just big enough to house a hunter overnight, the cozy place could protect against the elements and be kept warm by a small fire. The wood floor, a fireplace, a twin cot, and a gas stove made Leza profoundly grateful for the small things. She only hoped there was enough fuel to keep the place warm.

  “Ellie, would you mind putting those two buckets outside? We’ll need water. If my guess is right, those buckets will fill rather quickly once the snow starts falling. Then I’ll need you to help me gather wood from outside. We can’t risk the wood getting wet.”

  Ellie’s vacant eyes stared at the buckets, but she didn’t move.

  “Ellie? I know you’re tired, but I need help. I hurt my arm and can’t pick up things very well.” Or at all.