The Man from Montana

by Julianna Morris

  “Every case is personal,” he said in a clipped tone. “That’s how each member of the Elk County Search and Rescue group feels.” It would be a challenge not to second-guess everything he said to Tessa. “GPS is still a great tool, even with its limitations. Sometimes we’re able to track someone to their last known location and work from there. Just not this time.”

  Tessa didn’t say anything else and Clay pushed forward.

  He could tell someone had taken the Ghost Ridge route over the past week and watched carefully for any signs that they’d deviated from the established trail. The route was indistinct to begin with, and an inexperienced hiker could have lost their direction altogether.

  Yet between calling Aiden’s name and searching, a corner of his mind remained distracted.

  Tessa had been in his thoughts far too much since the day they’d met. His brain stubbornly kept recalling the weekend trip she had volunteered to go on and her faint silhouette inside the tent, backlit by a full moon, and then later by a small flashlight. It wasn’t simply that she was beautiful—a woman’s form was hardly a mystery to him—but something about Tessa was compelling.

  Now he’d learned she was connected to Renee Claremont.

  He was angry and frustrated and regretful at the same time. After all, Tessa was the one who’d lost her twin sister. The repercussions to his business and reputation couldn’t compare to a death in the family.

  Still, why was she here?

  Behind him, Tessa cleared her throat. “Do you ever take groups on this route?”

  Focus, he reminded himself.

  “None to date. I would if someone wanted a private trip and requested Ghost Ridge specifically.”

  “But you’ve hiked it yourself?”

  “A few times. I’ve been all over the area. There’s over two million acres of protected wilderness in and around Glacier National Park, so it would be hard to know every single inch of it. Do you know the entire Sonoran Desert?”

  “No, of course I don’t. It’s a big place.” She sounded taken aback and he realized his tone must have sounded as if she’d accused him of something, simply by asking if he’d taken a particular trail in the past.

  They would have to discuss her reasons for being in Montana, but now wasn’t the time or place to clear the air.

  “Most of the trips I offer are rated as easy to moderate in difficulty. This route is more demanding,” he said, trying to restrain his voice. “But scenic.”

  “Very.”

  For a long while they didn’t talk, just alternated between calling for Aiden and listening for a response.

  “Belle mentioned you have a talent for finding lost hikers. Do you have a special feeling about the Ghost Ridge Trail?” Tessa asked.

  “Hard to say,” Clay said, though when the sheriff had mentioned Ghost Ridge was in the search area, he had gotten a flash of something, similar to what he’d experienced on other search-and-rescue missions. It wasn’t scientific, but more often than not, his intuition turned out to be on target.

  “Molly seems to understand we aren’t on a pleasure hike.”

  He reached down and rubbed the golden retriever’s neck. “She’s very sensitive to moods.”

  * * *

  TESSA THOUGHT MOLLY was fabulous. While alert to the woods around them, she didn’t have the tense energy of dogs like wirehaired terriers or border collies. Her parents had adopted both breeds during Tessa’s childhood and they were nice, but there was a lot to say for Molly’s more peaceful nature.

  They were deep in the woods now and Tessa touched the GPS unit attached to her belt. How strange to think that even here she was connected to the greater world through the small device.

  Clay required guides to carry a satellite phone when leading a trip, and support staff to carry a high-end GPS tracker that could send and receive short text messages. They were provided by his company and each device was assigned to a specific employee. She kept hers fully charged and had quickly gotten in the habit of putting it on every morning, whether or not she expected to go anywhere.

  “Have you been involved with a search-and-rescue mission before?” Clay asked when they stopped to eat a handful of nuts and dried fruit. He took a bowl from Molly’s backpack and gave her a drink, along with a high-energy dog treat.

  “Informally. I scout the desert around my grandparents’ property when someone is missing. It seems logical for me to do it since I know the terrain so well.”

  “The first twenty-four hours are the most important. But, in this case, we don’t know how long Aiden has been in trouble. He’s been gone for three nights. That said, it’s easier not to dwell on the worst possible outcome.”

  Tessa’s muscles tightened. She recognized what Clay was saying—the chances of a positive outcome weren’t necessarily good. “Then the search coordinator assumes Aiden is in trouble.”

  “He’s alone, overdue and the family says his doctor advised him not to hike by himself because of his diabetes. So we have to assume he needs help unless we hear otherwise. With any luck he’s just lost track of time because he made a new friend, or for another reason. I’d rather find him that way, than not at all or too late.”

  She gulped. “We’d better get moving again. I’m fine with a faster pace.”

  Clay shook his head. “Faster could mean we miss something. Conserve your energy as much as possible. This is a marathon, not a sprint.”

  “I understand. I’ve seen boot prints that look recent, probably since the rain we got three days ago. Also crushed grass and other growth on the path. Nothing to show someone left the trail, though, or came back this way.”

  Clay’s hard expression softened. “You have good eyes. But not having return footprints isn’t too unusual.” He took out the map he’d already consulted several times and showed it to her. “See? This trail intersects with another, about twenty-six miles from the road. Our standard SAR procedure is to start by searching established routes and any nearby shelters. Then we look up and down waterways, and so on.”

  He tucked the map in his pack and started off without another word, Tessa following with Molly. A couple of hours later they ate again.

  Tessa wanted to ask if something was bothering Clay beyond a missing hiker. He rarely looked at her and mostly spoke in clipped sentences, but maybe if she’d known him longer it wouldn’t seem odd. They were trying to find someone in potential danger, so all other considerations might disappear while he was in a search mode.

  By the middle of the afternoon they’d seen amazing views, tumbling mountain creeks, lush meadows, the most beautiful woodland imaginable and a profusion of birds and animals, but no missing hiker. The trail still showed signs of recent passage, however, and neither one of them suggested turning back. Eventually, they found a recent campsite.

  Clay went over it carefully, but he found nothing to suggest the identity of the user.

  “I hate finding trash, but seeing a used glucose test strip or lancet would have been promising. Just one person slept here, though,” he murmured, brushing off his hands. “Single hikers are more rare than groups.”

  They continued and shortly before 5:00 p.m., Clay received a call on his satellite phone. His side of the conversation came in short bursts. “Yeah...I see...A single hiker was here since the last rainfall, camped one night and moved on, that’s all we’ve seen...We’re too far, miles from the trailhead...No, I don’t want to be relieved...Right, I’ll let you know if that’s necessary.”

  He disconnected.

  “Aiden is still missing and they don’t have any other information on which route he might have taken,” Clay explained. “We can’t reach the trailhead before the light drops too low for safe travel. I’m staying, but a mile back I saw a clearing where a helicopter could pick you up.”

  “I don’t want to be picked up.”

  “Give it s
erious consideration. Search and rescue isn’t the same as recreational backpacking. It’s emotionally exhausting. I’ve seen new volunteers suddenly lose energy and have trouble even walking.”

  Tessa lifted her chin. “I’m fine. Besides, I brought my tent and sleeping bag, knowing we might have to spend the night. Let’s go—we can still cover more ground today. I’m sure we’re on the right track.” A sense of urgency was plucking her nerves, as if time could be running out for the missing teenager.

  “I suspected you’d say that.”

  The temperature was falling and rays from the sun were growing long when Molly darted to a spot ahead of them and let out an excited bark. There were signs that someone had scrambled down the hill and they caught a glimpse of something in the underbrush at the bottom.

  They quickly descended, but only found a discarded backpack. There was a sleeping bag, clothes, a camp light, and stove and food in a bear canister, but nothing to suggest the owner had any health issues.

  “Why would someone leave this here?” Clay muttered. “You aren’t supposed to cache supplies in these areas, but if they expected to retrieve the pack, they would have left it hidden closer to the trail. This wasn’t even truly hidden.”

  “Aiden is diabetic and on a strenuous hike. What about hypoglycemia? Couldn’t that make someone confused and disoriented? He could have come down here and tossed the pack away if he wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “It’s possible. Whoever it was, he or she went that way.” Clay pointed in a direction that ran southeast of the Ghost Ridge Trail, or at least southeast of the portion they’d been hiking the last hour. “So we’ll follow, since this is our best clue yet. It’s late. If we don’t find anything, I’ll call the command center and suggest additional teams be assigned to this area tomorrow, along with more intense aerial searches.”

  They divided the contents between their own backpacks and Clay attached the empty pack to his own, knowing it would have to be retrieved later, regardless.

  They continued on.

  Twenty minutes later, Molly raced forward and disappeared down a slope. Clay didn’t call her back, though she normally wasn’t allowed to roam.

  “Aiden?” Tessa yelled.

  “H-here,” croaked a tired voice.

  He was near the bottom of the slope, one of his feet wedged between two large rocks. Molly had tucked herself next to his body and put her muzzle on his shoulder.

  “G-gosh, I thought I was a goner,” Aiden gasped when he saw them. “I couldn’t get loose. I’m pretty sure my leg is broken, but the rest of me is okay.”

  Clay took the boy’s pulse. “I’m Clay Carson and this is Tessa Alderman. We’ve been looking for you. I see you’ve been testing your blood sugar.” He gestured to the discarded test strips and lancets nearby.

  Aiden managed a smile. “When I’m hiking I carry my glucose meter, insulin pens and glucose tablets in a hip pack. Also some protein concentrate. I checked an hour ago. My sugar level is okay. Not great, but okay. I’ve been rationing my glucose tabs and protein.”

  “Good for you.” The warm approval in Clay’s voice erased some of the anxiety in the teenager’s face. “I’m a wilderness EMT and I’m going to examine you for any other injuries.”

  When Clay had finished checking Aiden’s upper body, Tessa unzipped the sleeping bag they’d found in the abandoned backpack and tucked it around him. His fingers were moving in Molly’s fur and he seemed to draw comfort from her presence.

  “What happened, Aiden?” she asked.

  “I had my dog on a leash, but when Skeeter saw a herd of deer, he broke free and chased after them. I yelled at him and followed, but he was just gone. And he hasn’t come back. Skeeter is barely a year old, he doesn’t know how to survive out here by himself.” Misery grew in Aiden’s eyes. “I have to find him. We take care of each other.”

  “One step at a time,” Tessa said gently. “Right now we need to look after you.” She glanced at Clay. “Do you need me to do something?”

  “Yeah. Hold his leg to keep it from moving when I shift the rocks. Aiden, this is going to hurt.”

  “I figured.” He sounded resigned.

  She got into place and Clay dug around the base of a downslope boulder. His muscles bunched and flexed as he rolled it far enough away to apply the splint.

  Molly whimpered and Tessa glanced at Aiden. His eyes were closed and he’d gone pale.

  “I think your patient has passed out.”

  Clay finished applying the splint. “Will you check his pulse for me?”

  Tessa scrambled over and put her fingers on Aiden’s wrist. “It’s fast, but strong. And his breathing is deep and regular.”

  “Good.”

  The teen’s color began to improve and his eyes opened. He released a sigh when he saw her. “Thank God. I thought I’d dreamed you and was still alone.”

  “You can’t get rid of us that easily,” Tessa teased.

  “You’re going to be fine,” Clay said. “I’ll notify the command center that you’re safe, and someone from there will get in contact with your family. It will be dark soon, so they’ll probably wait until morning to send a helicopter—these woods are thick and finding a landing area is tricky. After we set up camp and get some food in you, we’ll call your folks and let you talk to them directly.”

  “They must be totally freaked out.”

  “That’s what parents do. It’s part of the job description,” Tessa told him.

  She got a wry grin.

  Clay stepped away with the satellite phone. Since Aiden was safe and in fair condition, Tessa doubted they’d try moving him to another site. And other than not being completely level, their location wasn’t bad for camping. She couldn’t spot any obvious game trails, no trees were directly above them and a water source wasn’t too far away.

  A minute later, Clay put the phone away.

  “We’re staying put for the night. A team will be helicoptered to the nearest possible landing site in the morning. They’ll bring a basket stretcher for you, Aiden. I’m afraid you won’t be hiking for a couple of months, at the minimum.”

  “It’ll take longer than that for my mom and dad to stop yelling at me,” Aiden said glumly. “I’m the youngest and still get treated like a baby.”

  They didn’t try setting up the tents. Mostly they made the patient as comfortable as possible, easing a Mylar emergency blanket beneath him to reflect his body heat. Then Clay warmed water for packets of freeze-dried chicken and dumplings, while Tessa collected the used lancets and glucose test strips into a container.

  “I never thought something could taste so good,” Aiden said as he ate the meal, propped up on the backpacks.

  “Slow down and keep sipping fluids,” Clay advised. “You haven’t had much in your stomach for a while. We’ll test your glucose again in a couple of hours and see how you’re doing.”

  When the empty food packages and trash had been tucked into a bear bag and the remaining food supplies suspended properly in the air between two trees, Clay dialed Aiden’s family on the satellite phone.

  Tessa’s heart ached as the teenager reassured his parents over and over, saying he was fine except for his leg, and that the break wasn’t serious. He claimed it didn’t even hurt much now that a splint was on.

  “At least Aiden’s mother and father have gotten good news,” Clay said in low voice.

  At least...?

  It seemed an odd way of putting it and Tessa raised her eyebrows. He hadn’t seemed himself all day and she didn’t know what to make of the comment. On the other hand, since participating in a search-and-rescue mission had raised disturbing memories for her, she could be reading more into it than was warranted.

  Her sister had been missing for several hours before they learned for certain she was gone. The waiting had been awful, partly because Tessa had
known in her heart that Renee wouldn’t be found alive, yet had still tried to encourage her mom and dad.

  Did twins have a connection stronger than other siblings?

  Maybe.

  While working at a landscaping site the day of the accident, she’d suddenly felt something was terribly wrong; three hours later they’d been informed that Renee was missing. Before they could get on a flight to Montana, they’d received word that her body had been located. Tessa hadn’t realized it was possible to hurt so much. And now, all of the questions and wondering wouldn’t let go. It was just as difficult for her mother and father, but in a different way; the agony of losing a child was something she couldn’t fully comprehend.

  Tessa would have gone to Montana regardless, but her mother had collapsed upon hearing the news. It turned out to be a ministroke, luckily with no lasting damage, but they’d spent the next few days at the hospital, making arrangements by phone. Tessa had even slept in her mom’s hospital room each night as reassurance.

  Then her father had to identify Renee over a video conference with the coroner. The Tucson hospital had helped by setting up the video link, and everyone involved had been kind and supportive, but nothing could completely ease the burden of identifying your deceased child.

  Tessa glanced at Clay. He was keeping an eye on Aiden, who seemed more tired after talking to his parents than before. Until then, determination must have kept him going.

  The teenager had managed his blood sugar to the best of his limited resources and had pulled dry leaves over himself at night for insulation, reducing the chance of hypothermia. He also proved to have a wry sense of humor and had them both laughing several times.

  All the while Molly stayed close, an alert nursemaid and source of warm comfort.

  Tessa slid into her sleeping bag, watching Clay as he retested Aiden’s glucose level, along with taking his pulse and making sure his extremities were warm with adequate circulation.

  She hadn’t known Clay was an emergency medical technician, but it made sense. He’d urged her to consider taking a wilderness first-aid course if she hoped to continue being a guide, and more advanced certification would obviously be a plus.