by Terri Reed
Finally, Jeff tugged her behind the huge trunk of a Douglas fir. Dropping the bag on the ground, he pressed close to her, his six-foot frame crowding her personal bubble. Normally, she didn’t like when anyone invaded her space, but she found comfort in the protection he so easily and willingly extended. That it was part of his job didn’t matter. She’d take it.
Her breathing came in ragged gasps. She willed her heart rate to slow. Blinking up at him, she asked, “What do we do now?”
He leaned sideways to peer around the tree toward the lake, then straightened to meet her gaze. “Pray. And thank God for the forest.”
Was he being glib?
Looking into the depths of his blue eyes, she saw sincerity. “Praying’s good.”
Holding her gaze, he said, “Lord, we ask for Your protection. We ask that You would guide us out of these woods safely. In Your Son’s name, amen.”
Quick and painless. But would the words be effective? She’d had so many unanswered prayers in her life, she wasn’t sure God really listened. At least not to her. “Amen.”
Jeff stepped back and surveyed their surroundings. “We can’t go back the way we came. Obviously, someone isn’t happy we’re investigating the contamination.”
Tessa dropped to her knees and dug through her bag. “Ranger Harris gave me a map of the area.” She tugged the folded map out of the pocket she’d stuffed it in.
Jeff knelt down beside her to help unfold the map. He pointed to a spot along the lakeshore. “This is where our boat is.” He moved his finger in a straight line through the forest section and stopped. “We’re probably about here.”
They’d gone approximately three hundred feet. She studied the map. “Look. There’s a fire road here.”
“That’s about twenty miles west.”
She glanced to her right to where the nasty substance marred the forest floor. “The same direction the toxin’s flowing from.”
He nodded. “We’ll either come across the source of the pollutant first or the fire road.”
She had an awful suspicion that finding the source would be detrimental to their well-being. “And when we get to the road, then what?”
“We follow it back to civilization.”
“And help.” She was glad she’d worn her older, broken-in boots, though she hadn’t counted on a trek in the woods. Remembering she had a compass in her duffel, she dug the small device out to verify the direction they needed to travel.
He stood, his body tense as he looked from her to their surroundings. “We have to pay attention to signs of life, human and animal. We don’t want to go tramping into a cougar habitat or come upon a pack of gray wolves unawares.”
“This isn’t my first foray into the woods, you know.” She’d been trained in wilderness survival techniques. Not that she’d ever had to use them.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure those situations weren’t like this.”
She folded the map and stowed it away in the pocket of her duffel. “No, they weren’t. Most of the fieldwork I do is with teams responsible for the protection and restoration of fish habitat management. I rarely venture far from the water’s edge. And I’ve never been shot at.” She quaked, recalling how close those bullets had come. After tucking the flare gun inside the bag, she zipped it up and stood.
“Here, let me take that.” He reached for her bag.
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to let him carry her load. But that wouldn’t be fair. She’d brought the duffel; she should be responsible to carry her bag. “I’ve got it.”
His expression hardened. “We need to move quickly. It’s only going to slow you down.”
Accepting his rationale was easier than accepting his help. She relinquished her hold on the duffel. “You’re right. Thank you.”
He settled the strap across his body. “Why didn’t you bring a team with you to the lake?”
She shrugged, trying to downplay the truth. “I felt a strong urging that I needed to get to Glen Lake quickly.”
For expedience’s sake, she’d advocated traveling to Glen Lake alone to assess the damage and then decide if a full team would be required to make the trek to Washington State. She’d hoped the fish kill was something simple, something that could be easily contained.
Unfortunately, that clearly wasn’t the case. Once they returned to the ranger station, she’d report in. By then the team would have been assembled and ready to move.
“You listened to your gut feeling.” He sounded approving. “In my line of work, that could make the difference between life and death.”
If what happened earlier was any indication of the type of situations he alluded to, she was glad she worked with fish, not criminals. She admired and respected men and women who put their lives at risk for others. It took courage and commitment. And apparently faith.
“Has it?” she asked. “I mean, has your gut feeling saved your life?”
He held her gaze. “Yes. Though I prefer to think that God was prompting me rather than it having anything to do with me.”
“Interesting.” She wasn’t sure what she thought about his statement. Had God ever prompted her? Until today it had be a long time since she’d thought about faith. She couldn’t honestly say where she stood with God.
Needing to put them back on track, she said, “We should go.”
After a heartbeat, he looked away, releasing his hold on her. She filled her lungs with deep breaths as if she’d been deprived of oxygen. Shaking off his effect, she put one foot in front of the other and moved forward.
Jeff gestured to the trees. “See the patterns of the woods? The areas of light that seep through the canopy of tree branches? The dark places are where an animal would be most likely to hide. If we pay attention, the forest can tell us a lot about the creatures that live here.”
Apparently, he’d had some wilderness training, too. She glanced around. Though she still saw the ecological environment that could be broken down into fascinating individual pieces, she also saw the complex system of living organisms and an ecosystem that held dangers as well as secrets. “So in addition to running for our lives and keeping an eye out for more bad guys, what should we be looking for?”
“The obvious is footprints. The ground closer to the runoff will be softer and will show more, but we can’t rely on just the obvious.”
A cold knot formed in Tessa’s stomach. “If an animal drank from this liquid...”
“We might come across a sick or dead animal.”
She shuddered at the images that rose in her mind. A sick animal could be more dangerous than a frightened one. The beast wouldn’t have the good sense to avoid them. Most wild animals preferred to steer clear of humans unless provoked. An injured or sick creature might feel threatened and attack. Danger lurked in every direction. She moved closer to Jeff. “What other signs?”
“Feeding signs, like clipped vegetation or buried carcasses. Sleeping places. Some animals, like the fox, sleep curled beneath a bush, which would flatten the ground cover.”
They moved deeper into the forest. Keeping her gaze alert, Tessa had to double her steps to keep up with his longer stride.
He brushed back the branches of a bush for her to pass through a thicket. “Rub spots, hair or feathers. Scat. Travel routes, places where the vegetation is packed down and bruised, or spots where the leaves have been disturbed or berries of a bush have been stripped or twigs broken or grass bent.”
On the plane over from Utah, she’d read up on the national park. There’d been numerous sightings of cougars this past spring. As well as black bears and wolves. One report sighted a grizzly bear roaming the forest.
These woods covered thousands and thousands of acres across two countries. The likelihood that they’d run into a wild beast was slim. But not impossible.
; Tension tightened the muscles between her shoulders. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”
“Through the U.S. Search and Rescue Task Force training.”
“Is that normal for a border agent?”
He shrugged. “Not mandatory. But essential when covering acres of forestland. My job requires I know how to track humans through the woods.”
She’d heard stories of people trying to enter the country illegally through the forests that separated the U.S. from Canada. Jeff’s obvious commitment to his job, to his country, was admirable.
He held out a hand, stopping her. Pointing to the ground, he said, “See this?”
She stooped down to look closer and could make out a faint impression. “What is it?”
“Not sure. Could be the pad print of a mammal, like a fox, cat or raccoon. Or even a porcupine.” His voice hardened. “Or the heel of a boot.”
A shiver of apprehension shimmied down her back. She bent to inspect the liquid and the surrounding earth. “Either this fluid has been flowing for a long time or someone has made a shallow trench.”
She hated that someone had deliberately funneled toxins into the lake. She couldn’t imagine for what purpose other than to poison the water. Someone who would have such little regard for the environment and human life wouldn’t think twice about killing them. A ribbon of fear snaked through her, raising the fine hairs at her nape.
In a low crouch, Jeff searched the ground in a wide radius. “That’s the only impression I see.”
“Is that good or bad?”
Shrugging, he straightened. “Both. Other than right next to the moist dirt, the ground is dry and solid. The dead leaves and fallen branches create a barrier, so the soil isn’t exposed enough for more prints. But that doesn’t mean we can’t tell if an animal or a person passed through the forest duff.”
He pointed out a broken twig. “Something came this way.”
Tessa’s anxiety kicked up, making her tightly strung nerves even more taut. The forest grew thicker, more oppressive the farther they ventured in. She pointed to their left, where the leaves of the forest floor had been disturbed. “And went that way.”
They pressed on. Jeff halted abruptly, putting a hand out to gently touch her arm.
Apprehension crawled up her neck. Her mouth went dry. “What?”
He glanced around, behind them to the sides. “I don’t know. I thought I heard something.”
They stood still and silent for a long moment, letting the sounds of the forest settle. Tessa clenched her hands tight to keep from reaching for Jeff.
A bird chirped high in a tree off to the right.
A chipmunk scurried out of the bushes and darted past them.
Some of the tension visibly drained from Jeff. Tessa reached for her water bottle and drank a few sips to relieve the dryness in her throat. But the lukewarm water did nothing to ease the strain wreaking havoc on her system. They pressed on. Fatigue pulled at the muscles in her legs, making the journey more labored.
Jeff broke the silence. “Where’d you grow up?”
She slanted him a quick look. “Chicago. You?”
“Seattle. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Her steps faltered. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”
“Is it? Seems like a reasonable question to ask someone you’re running for your life with.”
“Does it matter?”
“Not to me,” he said. “Just a question.”
For some reason his answer annoyed her. “Why wouldn’t you ask if I was married?”
He reached out to help her over a branch that lay across their path. “You don’t wear a ring.”
Placing her hand in his, Tessa stared, fascinated with the way his bigger, stronger hand engulfed her smaller one and by the contrast in their skin tone. Her white skin, dotted with freckles, was a trait handed down by her Irish heritage.
His suntanned, olive skin was earned protecting the border, but she wondered what he did on his days off. What were his hobbies, his passions? Did he have a family? She gave herself a mental shake. What was she doing? His personal life was none of her business. She yanked her gaze to his face and stepped over the branch. “Neither do you.”
Releasing his hold on her, he moved away. “Which means I’m not married.”
She hurried to stay in step with him. “Some guys don’t wear rings.”
“Neither do some women. But I would if I was. But I’m not.” He arched an eyebrow. “So?”
She clenched her hand around her water bottle. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No time for one. What’s your excuse?”
She let out a wry laugh. “The same, I suppose.” Seemed they both had reasons for not being in a relationship, reasons that, apparently, neither cared to share.
“What do your parents do?”
She frowned. She didn’t like discussing her family. Jeff glanced at her, clearly waiting for her answer. When she didn’t respond, he stopped and glanced around. “This would be a good time for a break.”
He led the way to a fallen maple and sat. He accepted the snack bar she offered and continued to stare at her as he ate. She wondered if he used the silent stare as an interrogation tactic.
She sighed and sat on the ground with her back against a tree. “Dad’s a lawyer. Mom owns a floral-design shop. Yours?”
“Doctors.”
The clipped way he answered sounded almost derisive. Interesting. Two could indulge in a little interrogation. She knew how to cross-examine. She’d certainly been on the receiving end of her father’s inquiries enough. She leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees. “What type?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Dad’s a cardiologist and a professor at the University of Washington’s medical school. Mom’s a neurosurgeon.”
“Impressive. Those are specialized practices. How come you didn’t go into medicine?”
He scoffed, “Not my forte. Why did you become a fish biologist?”
That was an easy question. One she was often asked. “I grew up in the city but longed to be outdoors. I knew early I wanted to work for the Forest Service. After receiving my B.S. in environmental studies, I went on to get my master’s in water science, then my Ph.D. in ecology.”
“Your parents must be proud of you,” he said.
She shrugged, wincing inwardly at the shaft of hurt tearing through her. “I suppose.”
She was loath to admit she didn’t have much of a relationship with either one of her parents so had no idea if they were proud or not. Neither had ever said the words to her.
He leaned forward, studying her as if she were a bacterium in a petri dish. “You don’t know?”
“Mom thinks I should get married and have babies. Dad’s glad I have a job.” That was about as close to an affirmation from him as she’d get. Dad was a perfectionist who expected everyone else to live up to the same standards that he had set for himself regardless how impossible. Few people could keep up verbally with her father. A great trait in a lawyer, but not so much in a father or, apparently, a husband.
“That’s pretty typical, isn’t it?”
She tucked in her chin. “Why? Because I’m female? Aren’t you getting pressure from your mom to settle down and give her grandchildren?”
He gave a resigned shake of his head. “No. My mom didn’t have time for her own kid. She certainly wouldn’t have time for grandchildren. I doubt she’s given it any thought.”
“What do you mean, she didn’t have time for you?” What kind of father would Jeff be? Involved and committed or one who showed up late or not at all, like her dad?
“Doctors, remember?” He rose and placed the strap of
her duffel across his body. “Their patients came first. Always.”
Though his tone was even, she detected a hint of pain underlying his words. Her heart cramped with empathy. She scrambled to her feet. “Are your parents still together?”
“Yep. Nearly forty years. They still live in the same house.”
“Wow, good for them.”
He gave her a quick glance, then set off again.
She caught up to him. “Not many married couples stay together that long anymore. Marriage commitment doesn’t seem to matter.”
He appeared to be rolling her words around in his mind. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I’ve never thought about it that way. What about yours?”
Sadness invaded her chest. “Dad lives in a high-rise in Chicago and Mom moved to the Florida coast years ago.”
He glanced at her. “When did they divorce?”
“When I was five. Each has been married a couple times more since then.” New family units built. A new set of stepparents, and sometimes stepsiblings, to reject her, making her feel so very alone and unacceptable.
“That’s rough.”
“Yeah, it was. But I made it to adulthood in one piece.” But not without scars.
The terrain climbed. Tessa’s lungs grew tight from the change in altitude and the labor of their hike. She consulted the compass. They were on track, though the woods grew denser and more overgrown. The tangled tree branches overhead kept the forest shrouded in shadows and made the air cooler as the afternoon turned to dusk. Autumn temperatures in the Cascades could dip into the teens after dark. She hoped they found their way out before then. She didn’t relish the idea of spending the night in the forest.
“Hey, hold up a sec,” Tessa said. “I need something from my bag.”
She moved to stand in front of him and couldn’t help noticing the stubble on his firm, square jaw, or the width of his shoulders. They looked like they were made to carry heavy burdens. Her attraction to him was growing with every step they took. Why? She wasn’t sure.