Wild Ice

by Rachelle Vaughn

  JD leaned closer to get a better look at her face and smacked his nose into the glass. “Ouch!” he yelped, startling himself. He stepped back from the window and rubbed his nose.

  When it looked like the woman might walk right up to the back door, she cut north and disappeared into the tall grass again. Just then, Mel clanged through the doggie door in the mudroom and bounded into the kitchen.

  JD turned from the window and frowned. His dog had an obnoxiously happy grin on his face.

  “You have fun out there?” he asked.

  The sarcasm didn’t waiver Mel’s grin. Instead, the dog sat down in front of JD and thrust his paw out to be shaken.

  “Why don’t you ask your new friend for a treat?” he asked bitterly.

  Mel’s ears perked up at the keyword “treat”. His big paw clawed the air and JD finally shook it. He tossed Mel a Milk-Bone from the pantry and headed back to the recliner.

  * * *

  The refuge office and museum was located on County Road 97, just off Blue Heron Lane. Lauren wanted to share her news about discovering the weavers, so she set out for the refuge office on foot. It was only a short distance away, so instead of taking her car, she walked. The dirt road was rarely traveled and if she spotted a bird it would be easier to identify it on foot instead of hanging out her car window.

  Lauren took the opportunity to breathe in the fresh air and clear her thoughts. Since arriving at the cottage, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about the real reason she’d decided to leave South Oakdale. Thoughts of Daniel clambered up before she had a chance to push them away. She’d already wasted far too much time obsessing over his foolish decisions, but couldn’t seem to keep the thoughts at bay for long.

  They were both so different from each other that Lauren began to doubt the foundation of their relationship altogether. Daniel wanted to be the most interesting person in the room, and more often than not, Lauren found birds more interesting than people. Daniel’s antics as class clown might have been endearing in high school but his charm wore off soon after college.

  So many of their years together were spent with Daniel only thinking of himself. That simple fact had Lauren questioning everything. While she was getting her Master’s degree, he was… Well, she didn’t really know what he’d been doing. Maybe that was the problem.

  Why couldn’t she see the signs earlier? Before she ended up humiliated in front of her family and friends.

  Had she just been in love with the idea of being in love? They were high school sweethearts. How could he throw away a relationship like that and just abandon her? The worst part was that he wasn’t even around to provide an explanation. She was left to answer everyone’s questions when she didn’t even know the answers herself.

  On the upside, there was an upside to their breakup. It was nice not having a set schedule to abide by anymore. No wedding plans to see to, no appointments to go to. For months it had been nothing but wedding this and wedding that. Flowers, bouquets, dresses, seating charts… It made her heart ache that all the preparation had been for nothing. Some things just weren’t meant to be and she was okay with that. She’d get her happy ending sooner or later.

  Lauren hissed out an irritated breath. Here she was rehashing the incident just like she’d told herself not to.

  Up ahead, the Red Valley National Wildlife Refuge office sat encircled by laurel trees and crape myrtles. It was a plain looking building with a flat roof and tan paint. The parking lot was empty, but that was understandable in the summertime. During the school year, there would be busloads of kids on field trips and people walking on the trails and mingling throughout the museum. Groups of birders would be clustered around the viewing platforms and the photography blinds would be reserved by dedicated enthusiasts.

  When Lauren pulled on the door handle, the door didn’t budge. Huh. Maybe it was just stuck. The second time, she pulled harder and still the door wouldn’t open. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the glass. A display of stuffed water birds flanked the entryway. The lights weren’t on and nobody was home.

  Lauren stepped back and the sign in the window caught her eye. She squinted to read it through the smudged glass. According to the sign, the Visitor Center was open Monday through Friday from 9:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M. The road for self-guided auto tours was open to the public one hour before sunrise and one hour after sunset.

  That was all fine and dandy, but according to Lauren’s watch, it was ten o’clock now. The office should be open.

  Lauren had foolishly imagined that an older woman in the office would greet her with a warm smile and a boisterous hello. She would be a kindred spirit who shared Lauren’s fascination with birds and nature and they’d discuss wildlife until closing time. Maybe she’d even remind her of Aunt Cora or maybe she would have known her. They’d become fast friends and Lauren would visit her at the office throughout the summer.

  So much for that idea. The office was locked up tight and there were no signs of human life anywhere.

  Lauren sighed and turned back toward the cottage. She was always doing that—having grand visions of the future only to have them crumble at her feet like day old bread.

  * * *

  The next morning, JD found himself getting out of bed just to catch another glimpse of the woman in the field. He certainly wouldn’t admit that was the reason he’d developed a preoccupation with the kitchen sink, but he camped out there all morning nonetheless.

  For some reason she seemed familiar to him even though he was one hundred percent positive he’d never met her before. Yesterday, even though he hadn’t gotten a good look, he was sure she was pretty. Pretty? Now where had that come from? Why in the hell would he think she was pretty? He must’ve been spending too much time alone. Now he was conjuring up beautiful, skipping, free-spirited women frolicking in the meadow behind his house. If he’d been the only one to see her then that might be the case, but Mel had seen her too. The grinning, frolicking traitor.

  After twenty minutes of standing in his kitchen like a reverse peeping tom, JD began to wonder. What if that was the only time she decided to walk that particular trail? What if he never saw her again? Something in his gut told him she’d be around again. He didn’t know why, but he did. It wasn’t like anyone lived around here. There weren’t even any other houses on the street. Except for…wait…the cottage. That’s where he’d seen her before! She was the woman he’d driven by on the way to the grocery store last week. He hadn’t even given her a passing glance when he saw her pruning bushes near the cottage. Seeing her should have sent up a red flag because he never saw people on his street besides the postman and the trash truck once a week. At the time, he just thought she was a caretaker or something. No, he didn’t really know what he thought—only that it was an inconvenience to wave back at her. The thought that she might actually live there permanently never even crossed his mind. Yet there she was, walking across his private property to get to some trail in the wilderness.

  When JD finally saw her through the window, he knew she wasn’t a hallucination. He knew he shouldn’t stare, but he couldn’t stop watching her. He liked the easy way she swung her arms as she walked. Her brown hair was long and she wore it braided down her back. The oversized hat hid her face and he found himself wondering what her face looked like. And what did she do out there on the trail? Did she pick wild flowers or hunt for ladybugs or something?

  As much as JD hated prying his eyes from the woman, Mel was a sight to be seen. There was his “man’s best friend” acting more like “woman’s best friend” while JD peered out the window like a love-struck teenager. Was Mel crouching? The big dog almost looked graceful beside her, mimicking the lithe way she walked. He was crouching or something damn near close to it. He was being careful as not to scare the birds away! Mel looked proud of himself and a little smug, which was unsettling.

  JD looked back at the woman and noticed that her lips were moving. What was she saying? Was she talking to
herself? Or the dog?

  As she walked into the sun, the shadow lifted from her face. She was pretty. In a natural no caked-on makeup sort of way. Were those freckles on her nose?

  The same as yesterday, she cut over toward the cottage and JD watched until she melted into the trees.

  The doggie door clanged and man and dog stared riveted through the French doors.

  Chapter Eight

  The Fall

  As the sound of the creek grew louder, Lauren sped up her pace. Anticipation zinged through her body for what she’d find through the trees. Would the same egret be there fishing? Or would it be a snowy egret this time? Or a great blue heron? She’d seen the same egret there again but had yet to see him catch a fish. Would she finally catch him in the act this time? Would he be crouched low, hiding in the branches or would his neck be outstretched, poised and ready to pluck a fish from the flowing water? Hopefully, she’d get there in time to see it before it flew away.

  It was morning and the sounds of the refuge were lively and uplifting. There was much to be done in the bird world; food to scavenge for, hiding places to be found, predators to evade…

  Before Lauren reached the waterfall, her foot bumped something on the ground and pain shot through her ankle. She fell forward with an oomph and the air whooshed out of her lungs.

  The yellow dog blinked big brown eyes at her, confused as to why she was suddenly on the ground.

  After lying flat on the ground to catch her breath, she dusted off her hands and assessed the damage. Behind her, a tree root stuck up out of the ground. Her foot must have caught under it and sent her sprawling. There were a few scratches on the palms of her hands from blocking her fall. She pulled down her sock and her ankle was tender to the touch. This wasn’t good. There was no one around for miles and she was a long way from the cottage and her ankle hurt like hell.

  Gingerly, she stood up and tried to put weight on her foot. She instantly yelped in pain. Then her ankle started to throb.

  Buddy yipped and danced around her.

  “I can’t walk, Buddy. My foot is hurt,” she told him.

  Ignoring the rising panic in her throat, she sat back down and tried to formulate a plan. Remain calm, Lauren tried to think. That was the first rule in a crisis, right? It was at least a mile from here to the cottage. There was no way she could make it that far even if she had crutches.

  She looked around for a branch or a stick or something she could use as a walking stick. What she found was nothing bigger than a twig and certainly nothing that would support her weight as she hobbled back to the cottage.

  She tossed the twig aside and Buddy lunged for it. He shoved it at her and she stroked his yellow fur. When he realized she didn’t want to play fetch, he dropped it on the ground with a snort.

  What was she going to do? Hop on one foot all the way back home? She could try to crawl, but her foot would drag behind her and hurt just as bad as walking on it.

  The refuge trails were clear across the other side of the marsh and this trail wasn’t used by anyone but her. Even if she screamed for help she’d have nothing to show for it but a hoarse voice. The refuge office was still closed up tight and the trails still gated from cars. No one else was out here and if someone was, they were trespassing and probably not the kind of person she’d want helping her anyway.

  Lauren slid off her backpack and after digging through it, she remembered she’d forgotten her phone at the cottage. There probably wasn’t even a signal way out here on the trail anyway.

  Remain calm. There was no one to wait for. No one knew she was missing. Her mother might send a search party for her after a few days of not returning her calls, but she’d probably interpret her daughter’s absence as Lauren exerting her independence.

  A turkey vulture circled overhead. Probably plotting how to make a meal out of her.

  Remain calm.

  At least it wouldn’t be getting dark for a little while. She still had time. Time for what? She didn’t know, but she’d figure something out. She had to. There were no other options.

  The big yellow dog whined and nuzzled Lauren’s hand with his nose.

  “Can you go get help?”

  He nudged her leg and she winced when the movement jostled her injured foot.

  “Go and get help,” she encouraged him.

  She didn’t know where she wanted him to get help or who from, but it was better than sitting here and doing nothing. She had to at least try.

  “Go.” She made her voice sound excited, yet urgent in hopes it would convince him that, yes, he really did want to go and get help.

  He bounced on his feet and scampered back and forth as if he was urging her down the trail.

  “Go! Go get help!”

  He barked and finally sprinted off down the path.

  Go get help, Lassie. Timmy is stuck in the well.

  Lauren almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous it sounded. Sure, the dog was smart, but for all she knew he could just be going home—wherever that was—for some kibble and forget about her like yesterday’s chew toy.

  With Buddy gone, the trail seemed a little more intimidating. Normally, the sounds of the wetlands brought comfort to her, but right now they were a stark reminder that she was all alone.

  Weighing her options, she flipped over onto her hands and knees and crawled until the pain forced her to stop. Pebbles dug into her knees and rocks poked through her socks. She rested for a few minutes, pulled her hair back into a braid, so it wouldn’t drag in the dirt, and then crawled a little further. When she was out of breath, she looked back to assess her progress. She had gone roughly fifty feet.

  Discouraged and exhausted, she sat back down with a sigh. At this rate it would take her well into the next day to reach the cottage. And that was if she crawled throughout the night. Oh well. There wasn’t any other way.

  She took the water bottle from her backpack and took a drink. At least she had enough water to survive for days before the vultures would descend on her.

  Just when she was contemplating whether or not to start hopping on one foot, she thought she heard something. When she heard a dog collar jingle, she thought for sure she was hearing things. Sure enough, the yellow dog trotted up to her and planted a sloppy kiss across her cheek. Being on the ground put her at his level and he took full advantage by licking her face until she pushed his head away with a laugh.

  She was so happy to see him that she wrapped her arms around him and buried her nose in his thick fur. So what if he hadn’t found any help? At least she wouldn’t have to spend the night alone.

  The idea vanished when she heard footsteps coming down the trail—human footsteps. Who did the dog find to help her way the heck out here? He hadn’t been gone all that long, so they must have been fairly close by.

  Lauren strained her ears and stared up ahead. Eventually, a man came walking down the path. He was tall and athletic and her eyes were immediately drawn to the scowl on his face. His eyes were a deep dark blue and probably twinkled when he smiled, but he wasn’t giving her that expression now. He wore jeans and a T-shirt but something about them looked expensive. The new athletic sneakers on his feet were dusty from the trail. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days, but that added to his mysteriousness.

  He may have been dressed casually but there was nothing casual about the man standing in front of her. The frown on his face looked out of place on his handsome face. He glared at the dog. It wasn’t meant for her to see, but he glared nonetheless. There were so many emotions swirling in his eyes that she didn’t have enough time to decipher them all before he blinked them away.

  He didn’t look like a crazed woodsman come to have his way with her, put her over his shoulder and take her to his cabin, so that was good. At least the dog would protect her—she hoped—if the man had ill intentions.

  Who was this man and what was he doing on the trail? He certainly didn’t look like a birder—or at least he wasn’t dressed the part of one.
And the people she’d encountered on nature trails were usually friendly and eager to share their discoveries. This man didn’t look to be eager about anything. Especially about finding Lauren sitting on her butt in the middle of the trail.

  She didn’t know whether to thank the yellow dog or tell him to take this unhappy man back where he’d found him.

  Lauren decided to break the silence first. It was obvious the man was too mad at the dog to speak to her.

  “Hi,” she said cheerily despite the awkward situation. “I, uh, tripped on a tree root and down I went.” She touched her swollen ankle to make her point.

  He didn’t say anything in return. He just bent down and looked at the aforementioned ankle. He was so close that Lauren could smell the clean scent of his shampoo.

  “Can you stand up?” he asked, his voice abrupt.

  It was silly to notice the muscles in his forearms at a time like this, but it was awfully hard not to when he was standing there looming over her the way he was.

  “Yeah, I think so,” she answered with more confidence than she felt.

  He put his hand out and she had no choice but to take it. His palm was rough, yet warm and she told herself she imagined the zing from the skin-to-skin contact.

  When she got to her feet, she winced. Even without putting weight on it, the ankle still throbbed.

  Before Lauren knew what was happening, the man scooped her up in his arms and started carrying her down the path. The breath went out of her lungs with a whoosh.

  “You don’t have to carry me.” She twisted in his arms to survey the trees. “I just need to find a stick to use as a—“

  “It’s either this or I toss you over my shoulder,” he said gruffly.

  “Oh...okay.”

  She settled into his easy stride and tried not to think about how much her foot hurt. Or how rock-solid his arms felt around her. Or how manly the tall stranger smelled. Or how she could feel the warmth from his chest seeping through his shirt. She just helplessly sat there as he carried her down the trail.