A SEAL’s Resolve

by Cora Seton

  “Hope!” he roared, fighting to turn in his seat.

  “I’m all right. Edgar!” She fumbled with her jacket, and Curtis realized her seat belt—like his—had held her in place. She still held the kitten, which fussed in her hand, blessedly unharmed.

  “I’m fine, too,” Raina said, but she sounded funny. Curtis turned farther in his seat, cursed, undid his seat belt and got all the way around. He realized Raina was counting kittens. One was in her lap, as unharmed as Edgar. Another clung to the back of his seat, its tiny claws holding on tight. A third pushed its way out from under Daisy, who barked and nudged it with her nose. Raina reached down to pick it up.

  “Daisy?” Curtis ruffled the dog’s ears.

  “She hit the back of your seat,” Hope said breathlessly, “but I think she’s all right. I thought for sure she’d be hurt.”

  The dog seemed okay, although she barked again when Curtis ran a hand along her back.

  “That’s where she hit,” Hope told him.

  “Probably bruised.” He hoped that was all.

  “We’re missing a kitten. Where’s Louise?” Raina said tearfully.

  “No one asked if I’m okay,” Blake said. He was splayed awkwardly in his front seat, and as they watched, he gathered himself together.

  “Where’s Louise?” Raina repeated.

  Hope touched her hand. “She’s got to be here somewhere—”

  “Ouch!” Blake lifted up from his seat, put a hand beneath him and withdrew a ball of fluff. “What the hell is this?”

  “Louise! Are you okay?” Raina reached forward and snatched the kitten from him, cradling it against her cheek. “I thought you were gone!”

  Curtis breathed a sigh of relief. He had a feeling the demise of one of the animals would have demoralized everyone, and he seemed to be the only one cognizant of the bind they’d gotten themselves into.

  That was a hell of a slope they’d just tumbled down.

  No way they’d get the truck back up it.

  Hope was the first to look around. Her eyes widened, and Curtis bowed his head as it hit him things could have been a lot worse. He’d been in many tight spaces in his time with the SEALs, but back then he’d been operating with other trained men, not a truckload of civilians and animals.

  Curtis knew he was lucky. Unlike many of his peers, he found for the most part he’d been able to leave his time fighting overseas behind him when he’d come home. When they’d barreled down the hill and come to a stop, he’d had one flash of the old feeling from those days—the kind of awareness you had in combat when the shit hit the fan and you needed to make a new plan, fast. Now he was firmly back in the present, evaluating the situation, taking in their new position.

  “Now what?” Hope asked, obviously fighting to steady her voice.

  “I’d better go see about the other guy.” He hoped whoever it was had fared better than they had, although to drive so recklessly in this kind of weather… “Maybe whoever’s up there can give us a hand.”

  “I still need to pee,” Raina said in a small voice.

  Curtis only nodded. Of course she did. He took the kittens from her and Hope and passed them to Blake while the women got out. He watched them pace away into the snowstorm.

  “Not too far,” he called out after them, but neither woman answered.

  At least they were all alive.

  “Over here.” Hope waited for Curtis to make it up the slope before she led the way carefully through the snow, looking back over her shoulder frequently to make sure she could still see the glow of the truck’s headlights. She was far more shaken than she wanted to admit, glad beyond words that no one—and no animal—had been seriously hurt, although Raina seemed to be limping. “You okay?”

  “I think I kicked the back of Curtis’s seat when we went over. It’s nothing.”

  Hope wasn’t fooled. Raina’s usual exuberance was muted, and she knew from long experience that only happened when things were bad.

  She still couldn’t quite catch her breath, and her heart was beating hard, although they were walking on flat ground. The branches of the evergreens towering over them sifted out most of the snow. It was gloomy here in the woods, though.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about whoever had hit them and realized she was bracing herself for a shout from Curtis. What if they were hurt badly? Or worse?

  “Better put that foot up when we’re back in the truck,” she said to Raina, although what good it would do to be in the truck, she didn’t know. It wasn’t like they could drive back up onto the highway.

  They were stuck.

  Hope closed her eyes. Swallowed. Forced herself to open them again and keep moving.

  Maybe the vehicle that crashed into them was still operational. Maybe whoever was driving it wasn’t hurt and had a cell phone that could get reception.

  Or maybe—

  A shiver traced down her spine, and tears pricked her eyes. Hope squeezed them back, eyes shut. She wouldn’t give in to panic. Not now. Not until she knew what had happened.

  When she was done heeding the call of nature, cleaning up with some paper napkins Raina had brought along and washing her hands with snow, Hope pulled out her phone and tamped down her rising fear when she still couldn’t get reception. What good were all those satellites if she couldn’t get through in a snow storm?

  Back in the truck, Blake was cranky, clearly unimpressed with his temporary job as cat and dog wrangler. Curtis still wasn’t anywhere in sight. Hope and Raina climbed in and waited, first shaking off the snow that had accumulated on their jackets and boots, but with every passing moment, Hope feared the worst.

  “We’re not getting back on the highway,” Blake said, echoing her earlier thoughts. “We’re stuck here. We’re going to freeze to death.”

  A sudden spurt of anger overcame her. “We’re not going to freeze to death, so quit whining. Pass over those kittens, and go help Curtis.”

  “Why should I—?”

  “He’s coming back.” Raina pointed out the window. “And is that… Byron… with him?”

  Hope ducked her head to see out Raina’s side of the vehicle. “That is Byron. And Curtis is pissed!”

  The men reached them a moment later. “Look who I found,” Curtis said tightly. “He decided to come after us, and he didn’t have the common sense not to speed.”

  “I saw you backing up—making that turnoff, but I wasn’t sure it was you until I got to the detour sign. I had to catch up before you disappeared,” Byron said. His shoulders were hunched against the snow, and he looked miserable. “I didn’t crash into you on purpose.”

  “There’s no excuse for driving that fast in this kind of weather!”

  Hope could tell they’d been arguing this point for a while. “Is your truck still working?” she asked Byron.

  Byron shook his head. “Engine won’t turn over.”

  “So we’re miles from Bozeman, and this truck is going nowhere, and your truck is going nowhere, and there’s no one around, and my phone won’t work, and—” Blake’s voice rose.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” Raina said.

  “We’re going to switch modes of transportation,” Curtis said.

  “What does that mean?” Byron asked.

  “It means we walk,” Hope said, defeat rounding her shoulders. “Which will take days.” She imagined all the tasks in her planner sliding off the page. Raina’s wedding postponed. Scott flying back to Yellowstone.

  “Not quite.” Curtis led the way around the truck and undid the tarp that covered the back. Hope couldn’t believe her eyes.

  “You brought a snowmobile?” she cried.

  “I told you—you can’t be too careful in Montana in winter,” Curtis said grimly. “Byron, help me get this down.”

  “Is it still okay?” Hope asked.

  He nodded. “I had it strapped in tight.” When he and Byron had gotten it on solid ground some moments later, he started it up, and the engine roared to
life.

  Hope breathed a sigh of relief as she reached for her planner. One thing was going right.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Curtis thought Hope would be the one to spot the problem first, but she was too busy erasing something in her planner and writing something down on another page to pay attention to what they were doing.

  Raina had climbed back into the cab of the truck to oversee the kittens while they maneuvered the snowmobile down the ramp. Daisy was running in excited circles around them, barking now and then at the strange new vehicle, as if she didn’t quite trust it.

  Blake was staring off into space, probably wondering how any of this could have happened to someone as rich as him.

  Byron was the one who finally spoke up. He considered the snowmobile—and Curtis—for a few long seconds before remarking, “How are we all going to fit on that?”

  Hope looked up. Slid her planner back in her purse.

  “We’re not,” Curtis said shortly, lifting the ramp and sliding it back into place on the bed of the truck before pulling a metal cargo sled out and setting it on the ground. It was stocked with gear for just such an emergency. Food, a first aid kit, sleeping bags and more.

  “Who’s going to ride in that?” Blake’s eyebrows shot up. “Doesn’t seem stable.”

  “It isn’t. It’s meant for gear, nothing else.”

  “Then how—”

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Curtis announced, his raised voice capturing everyone’s attention. Raina climbed out of the truck again, shutting the door carefully on the kittens. “We’re each going to take some of the gear, and we’ll split up into two groups. We can fit three of us on this bad boy at once. I’ll run two of you ahead while the other two walk in my trail. Then I’ll come back and fetch the ones I left behind. I’m not going to let anyone be on their own for long in these conditions, so it’ll be a lot of going back and forth.”

  “What about Daisy?” Hope asked.

  “She’ll stick with the walkers.” Curtis looked grim.

  “What about the kittens?” Raina demanded.

  Curtis sighed. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully.

  Raina’s eyes got big. “You’re not leaving th—”

  “The picnic basket,” Hope said quickly. “We’ll line it with a sweater and put them in there. They can go on the sled, right?”

  “Not without me!” Raina said.

  “Then when it’s your turn to walk, you’ll have to carry the basket.”

  She nodded. “I can do that.”

  “We’ll walk along the road?” Byron asked.

  “It’s the only way. It’s going to be hard going. Steep in some places. This isn’t a highway—it’s more of a logging road.”

  “Are we going back or forward?” Raina demanded.

  “Forward,” Curtis said. “I think we’re past the halfway point, so it’s shorter, plus there are some cabins up ahead.”

  Blake straightened. “What if someone runs us over before they spot us? Or runs over the ones walking behind?” he demanded.

  Curtis decided to be honest. “It’ll be a miracle if we see anyone on this road. There’s no reason for anyone to be up here under these conditions.”

  “Fine. Let’s get moving. I’m getting cold,” Blake complained.

  “First things first. We’ve got to get this thing up that hill.” Curtis slapped the snowmobile. “Everyone stand back, just in case I flip it.”

  “Wait!” Hope gripped his arm as he swung his leg over the seat. “Don’t do anything dangerous!”

  She was worried about him. Curtis’s chest filled with warmth. Of course, she probably thought he was their only hope to get out of this mess.

  And she was right.

  “I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Been riding these all my life.” He pulled a helmet on, strapped it, revved the engine and waited until they’d all backed away to start a diagonal run up the steep bank toward the road.

  It was touch and go for a couple of minutes, but the deep snow helped, and Curtis released a long breath when he got to the top and was able to ease the snowmobile onto the road, past the mangled Chevy 4x4. He trudged down the hill again and bent to unpack some of the gear on the sled, distributing it among the group to carry. Hope and Raina had made a nest for the kittens in the picnic basket and closed the top on them. He instructed everyone to put on as much clothing as they had and could wear, and gathered up all the gloves, mittens and hats they had.

  He led the way up the bank, leaving the truck behind reluctantly. They were far more exposed to the elements without it, and he couldn’t fool himself into believing they’d run into anyone on this remote road in the dead of winter.

  “It’s snowing hard,” Hope said quietly when they reached the top.

  “You’re right. This isn’t going to be easy, but it will be possible.” He caught sight of a small duffel bag Raina was carrying on top of the basket of kittens. “What’s that?”

  “Wedding dress.” Raina began to shift the gear around to fit the basket and duffel.

  “There’s no room for another bag.”

  “It’s Raina’s wedding dress,” Hope repeated.

  “But—”

  “Hope, can you help?” Raina asked.

  Hope quickly skirted Curtis and bent down beside her. Together they wedged the wedding dress bag between the picnic basket of kittens and the gear in front of it. “It fits fine,” Hope said.

  Curtis bit back a curse, but he didn’t have the heart to make Raina ditch her wedding dress, even if it was a useless item as far as their safety was concerned. “Okay. Hope, Raina, you’re behind me. Blake and Byron, walk as fast as you can in our tracks. Don’t leave them for any reason.”

  “You’d better not leave us out here,” Blake warned. Daisy barked, and Curtis’s heart squeezed. He didn’t like leaving Daisy behind any more than she liked it. At least Byron was here; he didn’t trust Blake around the dog. When he came back to pick up the men, they’d have to figure out a way to carry Daisy on the Skidoo, too.

  “I won’t.” Not for the first time, Curtis wanted to tell Blake to buck up. In a situation like this one, attitude was everything. “Raina, you going to be warm enough?”

  “Yep,” she replied cheerfully. “Let’s get going before I have to pee again, though.”

  Some of Curtis’s tension eased. “All right, let’s do this. Daisy, stay with Byron. Hell, Byron—what are you doing?”

  Byron had pulled something out of his jacket—a video camera—and lifted it up to his face.

  “Are you filming me?”

  “Renata will kill me if I don’t. She’s going to kill me for not bringing back the rest of the gear.” He gestured to the truck. “Not to mention for totaling the Chevy.”

  Curtis got his anger under control. “You stop looking through that thing and pay attention. Don’t cause another accident.”

  Byron lowered the camera, his expression rueful. “I won’t.”

  “All right. Let’s get going.” He climbed on the snowmobile in front of Hope. “Hold on.”

  Daisy’s bark was the last thing he heard as he drove away.

  “Curtis has been gone forever,” Raina said, her voice muffled under her scarf so that Hope, walking ahead of her, had to half turn to hear her words.

  “It hasn’t been that long.” But she knew what Raina meant. Time lost all meaning out here in the utter quiet of the snowstorm. Aside from the two of them crunching through the deep snow, the only sound she’d heard since Curtis had roared away on his Ski-Doo to get Byron and Blake was the whispering of the snowflakes falling fast and thick around them. They were doing their best to follow the curve of the mountain road, staying as far to the side as possible, but the snow was so deep it was difficult to keep going, and Raina’s limp was growing worse.

  “We should have told Curtis you’re injured,” Hope said.

  “I can’t ride the whole time,” Raina pointed out.

>   Hope thought she could, but it was too late now. He’d driven them for about twenty minutes on the snowmobile before unloading them and heading back for the others. They couldn’t sit still and freeze while they waited for their turn to ride again; they had to keep moving.

  It was cold, her exposed skin around her eyes and nose prickling as flakes melted against it. She was carrying the basket of kittens, which made moving even more awkward. Raina carried a backpack of supplies Curtis insisted they take. Her wedding dress remained wedged in the gear on the sled.

  “I don’t like leaving you like this,” he’d told them when he let them off the Ski-Doo at the side of the highway. “But I can’t leave the guys too much longer; we’d be too far apart if anything happened.”

  Hope’s stomach had sunk as she’d watched him disappear into the snow, but she trusted he’d be back soon, and then it would be time to ride again, which had its advantages. She’d had to snuggle in close to Curtis and wrap her arms around his broad body to keep on the seat, even though they hadn’t gone that fast. She’d had an excuse to cling to him, turning her head and pressing one cheek against his back for shelter against the driving snow. Holding on to him like that had sent a rush of pleasure through her body, warming her in a most interesting way.

  She missed the feel of his large, strong body now. As much as she was pretending not to be affected, it was a little frightening to be walking down this lonely road with Raina, in this storm. She didn’t think they could get lost, but if anything happened to the men—

  She didn’t want to think about that.

  “Curtis is pretty cute, huh?” Raina said.

  He was, but Hope wasn’t about to say it out loud.

  “He’s strong. And he cares about kittens. He’d make a good husband,” Raina went on.

  Hope made a non-committal noise. She wasn’t getting sucked into this conversation. Men—and marriage—weren’t on her to-dos for years, after all.

  She wasn’t sure why that gave her a pang; she’d put a lot of thought into her life plan. She wasn’t going to deviate from it.