Their gazes met over Derry’s head and Jillian saw the tension Andrew couldn’t hide. How could she reassure him? They’d both seen things come out badly in their lives, though in his case, he’d gotten a wonderful child to raise. But life didn’t always turn out badly and they were both due for a long run of good fortune.
He gestured to suggest they leave and she nodded.
“I’m going now, Derry. I’ll see you later.” She kissed his cheek and received another enthused hug.
Outside in the hallway, Andrew released a sigh. “I know everything should be fine, but worry keeps sneaking up on me.”
“Have you talked to Sheriff Maitland to see if there’s anything he can do?”
“Now that Mallory has made contact, I’ve called my attorney to see what he thinks about getting the sheriff involved. He feels we should hold off for a while, so it won’t look as if I’m harassing her. I’m going to go with his judgment since I haven’t been trusting my own lately.”
Jillian put her hands on her hips. “Andy, you can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened. We all make mistakes—you have to stop beating yourself up over this one. That said, your lawyer may be right about not giving the appearance of harassing her. He has the letter she left, doesn’t he?”
* * *
ANDREW NODDED. THE brief note was burned into his brain.
I’m done with being married unless I find a guy with real dough. Keep the kid, I don’t care about him. Mallory.
Jillian nudged him. “Okay, we’ve done everything possible for the moment. Let’s drive up to Lake McDonald and have a picnic. It’s a romantic setting and we’ll take selfies of the two of us, the way engaged couples do. I’ll put the ring on and wave my hand around as if I’m showing it off. We should have that kind of picture in case it’s needed.”
“Are you all right with using Michael’s ring that way? I can get a different one.”
“And let you go into deeper debt because of your ex? No way. Anyway, Michael would support what we’re doing. Come on, let’s go. You should have a change of scenery.”
Andrew didn’t need more encouragement.
Some of his edginess began to unwind up at the park. They’d stopped for fruit, cheese and French bread at the market, and now sat at the lakeshore, eating and drinking sparkling apple cider.
The snowcapped mountains of the Continental Divide were reflected in the lake, and thick forests rimmed the water’s edge. Swimming here was a unique experience because it could be so clear, you felt as if you were weightlessly suspended above the colorful rocks in the lake bottom.
“Too bad we didn’t bring our swimsuits,” he said, looking at the crystalline water.
Jillian was busy shooting pictures of their picnic with her phone, using the lake as a background. “I’m taking a long lunch to get pretty pictures that look romantic, not play hooky for the day.”
“Clay wouldn’t care. You already put too many hours into the job. You should let your wranglers assign horses to guests and handle more of the other work.”
“That’s what Clay keeps saying. But whether I have the time or not, it doesn’t matter. I’ve tried swimming here this early in the season and nearly froze. Besides, we came to get selfies with us both in the picture. Our phony engagement probably won’t last long, but I don’t want anyone to guess it isn’t real in the meantime.”
Andrew leaned forward. “More pictures are fine, but we already have a bunch from over the years, including ones with you and Derry. Besides, everyone has expected us to get married because we’re such good friends, so nobody will be surprised.”
“I suppose,” Jillian said slowly. “I just don’t want to take any chances.”
He got up and posed with her as she took the sort of photos that someone would expect of two people planning to spend their life together. They tried to get one of them kissing, but started laughing so hard it was impossible to keep the phone steady.
This was like all the other times Jillian had rescued him over the years, including when he’d accepted a dare from one of her brothers to pole vault the creek in his church clothes. She’d told him not to do it, but at eight, having a six-year-old taunt his courage was more than he’d been able to accept. When he’d landed in the water, not really understanding how pole-vaulting actually worked, Jillian had pushed her brother in and followed herself.
With the three of them dripping wet and claiming they’d slipped accidentally, both sets of parents had thrown up their hands and declared they were impossible.
“What are you thinking about?” Jillian asked.
“The vacations and long weekends we spent in Elk Point. They were the best times of my childhood.”
“Mine, too. We had other families rent the guesthouse, but none like the Carsons. Of course, now that I’ve moved in there, we aren’t renting it to anyone. Mom was relieved to stop. It was hard work.”
“I used to be jealous,” Andrew admitted, “thinking you’d make friends with other kids and get into trouble with them. If you were getting in trouble, I wanted it to be with me.”
Jillian chuckled. “As if I believe that. You aren’t the jealous type.”
“I suppose.”
Yet now that Andrew thought about it, he remembered feeling a peculiar pang when Jillian had fallen in love with Michael Jamison. A touch of envy, he supposed, because she’d found something that had eluded him.
And now they were both alone.
* * *
THE NEXT TWO weeks passed in a blur for Tessa. She read about the history of the area, studied the flora and fauna, and absorbed every bit of information possible from Clay.
He was the ultimate outdoor guide, able to easily handle any terrain, traverse the slickest stream bed with confidence and answer all questions thrown at him with an astonishing depth of knowledge. He even knew a significant amount about the adjacent states and Canadian province of Alberta.
And when Tessa went to sleep at night, images of wildlife and stunning vistas went through her head, rather than speculation about what had happened to her twin sister. It was a relief, yet lurking at the back of her mind was the question of why she hadn’t heard from the sheriff’s office about Renee’s accident report. It was silly to wonder if they had something to hide—it was probably just buried under a mountain of paperwork—but her waking thoughts kept going there. She didn’t think badgering them about it would help. Anyhow, the deputy had pointed out that they were especially busy in the tourist season.
The ranch was generally quiet in the early morning hours, but three weeks after her first official trip as a trainee guide, she came out of the bunkhouse to find a bustle of activity.
“Is something wrong?” she asked Jillian.
“There’s a hiker missing,” Jillian Mahoney explained. “A vacationing college student who didn’t check in with his friends last night as expected. He’s diabetic and alone except for his dog.”
Tessa gulped, memories flooding through her of the time Renee had been reported missing. It was one of the worst feelings in the world for a family.
“His family must be frantic.”
“Yeah. Clay and several of the guides are joining the search. Lee Sutter is driving everyone to the command center and the rest of us will hold down the fort, so to speak, making sure the booked excursions are covered and other business is handled.”
“I’ll get my backpack and see if they need me,” Tessa said immediately.
Since Clay would be involved with a search-and-rescue operation, she probably wouldn’t be going on a trip until he returned. Except for a single two-hour afternoon hike up to Bull Moose Lake, he’d only let her go on excursions that he was leading, saying he didn’t want to ask anyone else to take responsibility for a trainee. If he didn’t allow her to help with the search, she could pitch in with the horses or handle other tasks and free somebody e
lse to go. One thing she’d discovered on her short stay at the Carson Double C—there was always something that needed doing.
At the parking area, Tessa hurried toward a group of guides talking with Clay. Molly and several other dogs were with them.
“I want to help,” she said. “Whatever you need me to do.”
Clay gave her a swift, assessing glance. “Search-and-rescue volunteers usually require training from the county, but it should be all right if you team with me and Molly. I’ll confirm it with the search coordinator. Everyone, grab one of the emergency supply bear bags for your backpacks. We leave in five minutes.”
Tessa was glad that Clay trusted her abilities enough to let her participate. She checked the emergency supplies and found freeze-dried backpacker’s food, along with a water filtration straw and other provisions. It duplicated some of the supplies already in her pack, but she put the bag in, anyway. Not knowing if they’d be out overnight, she’d also brought her tent and sleeping bag.
The normally talkative outdoor guides were silent on the drive. Even the dogs were quiet and watchful, sensing something important was happening.
The staging area for the search-and-rescue effort was crowded with both official and private vehicles. As they got out of the van, helicopters flew overhead, presumably to do an aerial sweep of the forest.
Clay suggested everyone stretch their legs while he went over to speak with the coordinator. As they waited, a volunteer came by and distributed fluorescent orange vests with Elk County Search and Rescue on the back, and the ECSR insignia on the front.
“The boss has an instinct for lost hikers,” one of the guides named Belle Whitaker told Tessa as they donned their vests. “Clay has found more than the rest of us put together. It’s uncanny. I don’t know about this time, though. The missing kid just has one of those prepaid cell phones and the GPS isn’t reliable on some of them. The last ping to a cell tower was in Elk Point.”
“Then he didn’t check in with a ranger station and let them know his itinerary?”
“Nope. One of the first rules of wilderness travel and he broke it. Probably along with several others.” Belle’s face was grim.
“That’s cynical.”
“Sorry, I’ve been on a few of these searches and it’s awful when they turn out badly. I prepare myself for the worst because it’s a real gut-cruncher when it happens.”
Tessa didn’t have any right to criticize Belle, especially since she’d never participated in a search-and-rescue operation, but she preferred being optimistic. It had to help, right? Belief was powerful. Maybe that was Clay’s key to success—he didn’t give up mentally.
Inevitably, Renee’s memory rose in Tessa’s mind, but she pushed it away.
A few minutes later Clay returned and told everyone where they were assigned on the search pattern. Apparently, the missing hiker, Aiden Stafford, had only told his friends that he was going to take a trail south of Elk Point. He hadn’t returned as planned, or called his family, either. Each team received a detailed topographical map of their assigned area.
“You and I are taking the Ghost Ridge Trail,” Clay told Tessa, his face unusually grim and unsmiling. “It’s fairly steep in places, but you’re sure-footed on rough terrain, so I volunteered us. Do you have any reservations about partnering with me?”
It seemed an odd question since she’d volunteered in the first place, but she shook her head. “I’m fine with that.”
“All right. Everyone back in the van.”
They climbed into the vehicle and Lee drove them to the various trailheads. She and Clay, along with Molly, were dropped off last.
Tessa got out and put on her backpack. Clay’s expression remained taut as he spoke to his uncle at the driver’s window.
She gazed at the high trees and undergrowth ahead of them. Even in the open desert, finding someone could be difficult, but the forest and thick understory would make things even harder, especially if the missing hiker had wandered from the trail for any distance.
“This way,” Clay said as his uncle drove away.
Tessa read the sign at the trailhead.
Ghost Ridge.
Though she wasn’t superstitious, it sounded foreboding. With an effort, she dismissed the thought as they pushed forward on the little-used path.
Getting a case of nerves wouldn’t help the missing hiker or anyone else.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CLAY TOOK THE LEAD, trying hard not to explode at Tessa with a thousand questions.
Sheriff Spencer Maitland had frowned when he learned she was one of the volunteers from Carson Outdoor Adventures. “Are you aware that Tessa Alderman is Renee Claremont’s twin sister?” he’d asked.
Renee Claremont?
Unexpectedly hearing the name had hit Clay with the force of a lightning strike. “No,” he’d said harshly. “Tessa is a trainee guide at my company. Are you sure? She doesn’t look like Ms. Claremont.”
“Twins don’t have to look alike. I spoke to Ms. Alderman in late September last year and thought she was satisfied, but when I got back from my conference recently and sorted through my backlog, I found a note saying she’s here in Montana and wants to see the full accident report. That also means the witness statements.”
Clay had groaned.
“I’m still deciding the best way to handle the request,” Spencer had added. “It won’t be easy for the family to hear the full story of what happened, which is why I’d hoped it wouldn’t become an issue. It usually isn’t, and after so many months, I’d figured the incident was closed.”
They’d been interrupted at that point, which was just as well. The urgency of finding a lost hiker took precedence.
As for Tessa being Renee’s twin?
There wasn’t much resemblance between the two women. Still, Clay recalled thinking Tessa’s smile seemed familiar and that could be the explanation. In a short period of time, Renee had taken practically every trip that Carson Outdoor Adventures offered, generally ones when he was the guide. So he’d seen a good deal of her the previous year. And after what had happened, her image was burned into his brain.
But Tessa had dark blond hair with natural sun highlights, deep blue eyes and peach-tinted skin. Her sister had been a brunette, with brown eyes and an olive-toned complexion. She’d bustled and moved quickly, reminding him of a robin in spring, while Tessa walked with smooth, fluid grace, like warm honey pouring from a jar.
She was also an experienced backpacker, while her twin had known nothing about outdoor sports. Renee had struggled with even the basics of erecting a tent, though she had slowly improved. The two women were so different it was mind-boggling.
The temptation to send Tessa back to the ranch had almost won out, yet he didn’t doubt her sincere wish to help a fellow hiker. Nor was he willing to turn away a qualified volunteer who could be part of the rescue effort. So despite his churning questions, he’d assured Spencer that she had the backcountry skills to join the search.
“Aiden!” he called a short distance up the trail, stopping to listen for any type of response. There was no way of knowing if the lost teenager could be miles into the wilderness area, or on the edge. They all feared the scenario where someone was close to the road, but was missed because rescuers assumed they were deeper in the forest.
At least Aiden had a dog with him—even if the kid was unconscious, his animal might respond by barking. The canine senses of smell and hearing were sharper than a human’s, too, which was one of the advantages of bringing Molly. Lately he’d been leaving her at the ranch with Aunt Emma and Derry as a precaution, but it had seemed important to have her along as part of the search-and-rescue effort.
Clay called again. Nothing came back in return and even the normal sounds of the forest seemed muted.
“Is the missing hiker familiar with this area?” Tessa asked when they resu
med walking.
“Not as far as I know. He’s from Seattle and took the spring quarter off from college to travel with a few buddies. The sheriff’s office is canvassing the area to see if anyone else remembers talking to him. The hope is that he told a shopkeeper or food server where he might be headed, so the search area can be narrowed. I’ll get a message on my satellite phone if they learn anything.”
The concern deepened in her face. “I was talking to Belle Whittaker and she said they weren’t able to get any worthwhile GPS information from his prepaid cell.”
“Nothing accurate enough to help. We have to do this the old-fashioned way.”
Tessa nodded. “The modern way being tracking smartphone GPS signals, or an actual GPS locator?”
“Among other things. GPS helps, but even with the best devices, accuracy can be affected by dense trees and mountains. People also turn them off, forget to charge their batteries before leaving, or don’t bring a solar charger or backup battery. Then there’s my favorite explanation—they drop them in a creek.”
“That almost sounds personal.”
Clay’s jaw tightened. He’d done search and rescue for missing people all over central Montana and down into Wyoming. It was an incredible sensation when you found someone alive and could help them, and soul-crushing when things didn’t turn out well.
So, yeah, it was personal, and went right to the core of what he was doing with his life. Guiding was a way to share the wilderness and keep folks as safe as possible at the same time. But Renee Claremont had lost her life despite his best efforts to provide a safe whitewater experience.
Even knowing Renee had broken the safety rules he’d drummed into the group was little comfort.
An ache twinged in his left arm as images of that awful day crowded into his brain. It was just remembered pain. His arm had gotten broken while he was trying to help Renee, and other parts of his body hadn’t fared well, either. But there was no permanent damage.
“Clay?” Tessa prompted.
The Man from Montana Page 9