by Peyton Banks
I drive up in front of my home and force the truck into park. Before I can exit, my cell buzzes in my back pocket. Lifting off the seat, I remove it and read the screen. Ian’s name flashes out at me, and I toss my head back, pushing out an aggravated breath. I let the call go to voicemail, only for him to dial right back.
I wipe my face and accept this time. “Yeah.” My shoulders slump as I wait to see what he wants.
“Z, what’s up, man?”
“Just getting home. What do you need, Ian?”
“Okay, cool. We’re just checking on Ariya. Is she staying with you tonight? We got word there’s another storm rolling in, and she left her phone here, so we haven’t been able to reach her.”
“Why would Ariya be staying with me?” I frown.
“She left hours ago, looking for you. Are you saying you haven’t seen her?” His voice is pitched high, riddled with concern.
One of the girls, I’m not sure who, is plowing him with questions, and he stammers over his words.
“No. I haven’t seen her. I haven’t even been home.” I sit up on full alert.
“Shit.” He must have backed away from the phone, making it hard for me to understand him clearly. “He hasn’t seen her,” he says.
There’s shuffling before the line finally settles and Karen’s voice calls out to me. “Hello,” she chokes.
“Did she change clothes since I was last there?” I blurt out.
“What? I… I sent her after you. We need to find her, Zander.”
“Karen. Calm down and answer my question. Was she wearing the same thing she had on when I left? Any outerwear?”
Her breaths are rapid. “Yes… Yes. Same outfit, her coat is beige, same color as her boots. Find her!” she manages, her sobs now audible.
“We’ll go out and look for her,” Noah yells.
“No. It’s too dangerous, and they don’t know the mountains. I’ll find her, stay by the phone.” Without another word, I hang up and revive my engine, peeling back out into the night.
I grip my radio. “Chief, come in.” I wait a second for an answer, and when I don’t get one, I try again. “Chief.” My tone is loud and sharp.
My fingers tremble, and my stomach is knotted tight as I fear the worse yet hope for the best. The oxygen lodges in my throat, and my mind races a mile a minute while trying to determine where to start my search.
Chirp. “Go ahead.” Chief’s voice is music to my ears.
“This is Zander. We have a missing person. She was last seen several hours ago wearing dark-blue jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a vest. Her outerwear is beige. She’s a black female in her late twenties with braids.” The words rush out of me.
“Damn. What area?”
I huff. “She was in cabin fifteen. Chief…she’s a friend, I gotta find her.”
“We will, Zander. I’ll keep an ear out in case she wanders here. I’ll get Steve and Erika on the line to cover the surrounding zones. Hopefully, she hasn’t gone too far.”
I don’t bother responding and instead pour my focus into finding Ariya. With quickened and shallow breaths, I scan the roadways, turning my overhead lights in every direction for a good view. My skin is flushed with sweat despite the mid-twenty-degree temperature.
“Come on, Ariya. Where are you?” The ground’s unleveled, and my body rocks.
My fingers tingle before going numb as adrenaline courses through me. I hold my shoulders back, reminding myself to breathe. Fuck. I tighten my grip on the wheel, desperately clinging on to hope and stability. The pain in the back of my throat brings back memories I’ve fought tooth and nail to bury. I shake out my arms, unable to get a hold on my emotions.
I fail to push away my past, visions of what happened blinding me. I can’t talk to you right now, I’m going for a walk. Those were the last words Melissa threw at me before…
Thump.
The hard crack of my truck rolling over a dip in the road brings me back in the moment. This is it, the destruction I wanted to keep away from her. But now she’s lost in the woods, probably freezing to death because of me. Fear is overwhelming, but so is not being able to protect the people you care about. Fear is the reason I stay away, the reason I can never leave, the reason I’ll never be able to open my heart to another woman. And just like three years ago, this is my fault. I won’t sacrifice another woman to this mountain.
11
Ariya
My teeth clink together, and I pull my hat down over my ears to shield myself from the cold air. My toes have frozen over, and my fingers ache from frostbite. My face and nose feel raw and brittle from the harsh temperature and heavy snowfall. I’ve been out here for hours trying to find Zander with no clue where I am. I chuckle to keep from panicking because it seems my biggest fear has come to pass. Death by being one with nature and shit. Look at me. Lost, frozen, and obviously crazy, searching for a man who is probably just going to run away again.
Midway through my hike, I realized I had no idea where I was going. Zander told me the number of his cabin, but it wasn’t until some elderly woman answered the door that I learned I’d had it wrong. And I couldn’t call the gang to come get me or tell me the right one, because like an absentminded idiot, I left my phone. But no big deal. I’ll just go back home. Easy, right? Wrong. It’s dark, and this new storm covered my tracks. The first time I get to use any of the survival tips my father taught me, I fail because nature—ole hussy—wiped away the one thing I could use to find my way back. Now I’m certain I’ll die of exposure.
I blink rapidly, hoping it’ll make a difference in sight, but it’s pointless. Wind wisps by me, nearly knocking me over, and it’s difficult for me to see anything at all. I want to scream out the frustration inside me, but it wouldn’t help. I’ll still be alone and lost. Deep down, I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to come on this trip. Better yet, I should have stood my ground and not gotten involved with Zander in the first place. The first time he brushed me off, I should have stayed away. I huff, taking several deep breaths. If I want to at least make it out of this storm, I’ll need to focus. Thinking about what should have been will only anger me more, and one lesson my dad taught us was to never panic. Your survival depends on your ability to control your emotions and think rationally.
So that’s what I’ll do. I shake off the negative energy, pull on my zipper even though it’s fastened as far up as it’ll go, and stalk forward. I can worry about everything else after I’ve found shelter. Before I got turned around, I remember walking past a dilapidated cabin. Maybe there’ll be wood for a fire, enough to tide me over until morning. Keeping my head low to protect my eyes, I march on, stepping in a puddle of slush along the way.
“Ugh. Shit.” I shake out the freezing wetness, feeling slightly dirty considering I have no idea what’s mixed in with the snow.
I don’t let it deter me any and continue on, counting my breaths to keep calm. After maybe another ten minutes, I look up to gauge my surrounds and squint to see up ahead. A squeal escapes me when I see what looks like to be the cabin. With only the light from the moon, I can’t be too sure, but I’m holding on to hope. I puff out my chest and continue my hike, cutting across the forest, putting myself on the same side as the building. Once I’m settled on the other side, the revving of an engine steals my attention. The sound greets me first, then a few seconds later beams of light shine out from behind me. I turn with my hand to my forehead to block out some of the glare to find a truck coming in my direction.
“Oh God. Thank you.” I wave my arms, hoping the driver sees me and comes to my aid.
The vehicle stops a few feet in front of me, and the door swings open. Because of the high beams, I’m only able to make out the dark silhouette of a man as he climbs out, his boots crunching when his feet hit the ground.
“Thank you for stopping. I’m lost,” I blurt out.
The person reaches back inside before walking around the front holding what looks like a blanket. He steps in the light�
��s path, and my heart flutters, while all the tension leaves me. Zander. I rush toward him, meeting him halfway.
“Ariya.” He leaps forward, wrapping the cover around me while pulling me into an embrace. “Why did you come out here?”
I take a second to catch my breath. “Stupid, right?” I chuckle and peek up at him.
Zander rubs up and down my arms to help warm me up. “Yeah, it is.” He looks around. “Let’s get you to that cabin.” He points. “We'll need to hide out until the storm passes.”
I nod.
He releases me and walks to the right side of his truck. There’s the ruffling of plastic before the engine shuts off, and he returns carrying a duffle bag with several planks of wood stuffed under his arm. Zander throws the bag on his shoulder and takes my hand, leading the way to the run-down house a few feet ahead. His grip is tight and protective. My gaze falls to our grasp, trialing the length of his arm up to his tense shoulders. He holds me in such a way that says he doesn’t want to let go.
We approach the threshold, the porch screeching under our weight. Zander hesitates then finally peel our fingers apart to check the door. It’s locked. With a step back, he kicks at the frame, sending the door flying open with that one movement. And like a sex-craving kitten, my senses perk up and my center purrs. Damn, that was hot. He steps inside, holding his hand out for me to stay put while he surveys the house. A few seconds later, he reaches for me and guides me in. The door slams behind me and I jump, but quickly relax when I realize it’s just him making sure we’re secure and it doesn’t fly open in the middle of the night.
A dull light appears in front of me as he uses his phone to help him see. There aren’t any curtains on the windows, but there are boards placed throughout, my guess is to keep squatters away. It isn’t much, but the moon shines in through the thick gaps between each plank. It’s because of that and his phone I’m able to make out the shape of him if nothing else.
He approaches the fireplace, shining his device in that direction, scoping it out for functionality. “Can you hold this in place for me?” he asks without looking at me.
I rush to his side, doing as he requested, using one hand to keep the blanket from falling off my shoulders. He drops to his knees and stacks the wood he brought inside in the center of the pit. He reaches into his duffle for a box of matches and attempts to start a flame. But after wasting at least ten matches, he belts out a loud grunt.
“They’re still wet,” I interject, and he stares at me quizzically. “I can see the moisture. Here, take your phone,” I say, passing it and the blanket to him.
He reluctantly takes them while watching me make my way to the other side of the room. Cracking my knuckles, I brace myself and yank several of the planks from the dusty windows. There are six in this space and probably more in the back, but what I have here should do. Dropping the dirty boards at my feet, I rip off my gloves to inspect them and be certain they are as dry as I thought them to be.
Satisfied, I hand them to him. “These should work.”
Zander stares at me, wide-eyed and with a hint of amusement.
“My dad,” I answer his unspoken question. “He took Karen, my brothers, and me camping a lot when we were kids.” I shrug.
“Hmph.” His shoulders jolt as he presses his lips together and nods. “Then why did you need my help setting the fire the first night you were here?” He drops the wood into the pit and gives back the phone.
“I didn’t.”
His gaze shoots to mine.
“I was having a hard time getting the pieces into the tiny fireplace, but I knew how to spark a flame.”
He sits back on his feet, placing his palms on his thighs. “Really?”
I can tell he’s not buying it. “Yep. I would have figured it out, but in you walked, wanting to help, so I let you.”
Zander doesn’t offer a response as he accepts my suggestions. When it works, he nods with his brows raised, indicating he’s impressed. He stands to his feet, dusting his knees.
“You should contact the guys. They’re probably worried sick.” His head hangs low, and his shoulders are rigid.
I feign a smile, and punch in Karen’s number. Zander removes his radio from his belt clip and walks to the other side of the room. I wait for the call to connect, watching him closely. The slouch in his back and rattle in his voice worries me. He’s afraid, or something’s bothering him at least.
“Did you find her?” Karen blurts.
My palm goes to my chest, and my cheeks warm with gratitude. “Dang, woman. Calm down,” I tease, hoping to make light of the situation. Not that it’s something to just brush off, but what I want right now is to get through the night with no more headaches.
“Oh, thank God. He found her.” Karen’s breaths are harsh and radiate through the receiver. “Where are you?”
Stuffing my fist into my pocket, I twirl lightly. “We’re in some abandoned cabin. I don’t know how far we are exactly, but at least we’re inside and have a fire going.”
“How did you get lost?”
“Hell if I know. I thought I remembered the lot number he gave me, but clearly I was wrong. Then I left my fucking phone. But he’s with me, so I’m safe now.” I look over my shoulder, admiring the man who’s come to my rescue. Granted, I wouldn’t need saving if he’d just stayed and talked to me, but he’s here now.
“Good. When are you coming back?”
Before I can speak, Zander interrupts me with a touch to my elbow. “That was the chief. You guys don’t have to worry about the reservation. She’s extended it, and I’ll take care of it when I get back to the rangers’ station.”
I nod. “Um. The snow’s too thick for us to drive back tonight. I guess we’ll need to see what it looks like in the morning. But listen, Zander’s extended our stay until we can get back on that side.”
“Oh, that’s great. We have been here longer than we expected.”
“Yeah. Let us go. We should try and save whatever battery we have left in case we need help tomorrow.”
“Of course. You guys stay warm.”
I end the call, turning to see him rummaging through his bag.
“Are you hungry?” he asks without looking at me.
I swallow. “And thirsty.”
Zander removes a dark-green canister and hands it to me. I twist off the cap, pouring my fill before giving it back to him. He signals for me to take another swig, only accepting it once I’ve done that. I wipe away the droplet that spills down my chin and focus on what he’s doing. He reaches up, taking the water and puts a tiny bit of it in a small saucepan.
“Where’d you find the pot?” I ask, confused.
“I brought it with me. One thing I’ve learned as a ranger is to always be prepared. This bag...” He pats the dark-blue fabric. “It’s like my mini survival kit. I keep the blanket in my truck, but in here are canned goods, matches, a sweatshirt, this pot, and a spoon. Everything stays in the vehicle in case I need it. Except for the water, I change that out every day. Oh, and a can opener.” He holds up one of the old-style devices with the bottle opener attached. “We have beef stew and chicken noodles, which would you like?”
“I’ll take chicken noodles.”
He nods and pulls out what I recognize to be a cook stand. It’s small enough to fit in his bag, but the perfect size for the pot he’s brought with him. I watch as he positions them both in the fire and sticks the canned soup inside after he’s taken time to open both, using the aluminum casing as a barrier between the boiling water and our food. After both meals are heated, he passes me the spoon, allowing me to eat first. When I finish, he takes the utensil and devours the stew.
He catches me staring at him, only to lower his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he says after a pregnant pause, his voice meek and filled with uncertainty.
I crane my neck to see his face. “For what?”
He blows out a sharp breath and rakes a hand over his head, pressing his back into the wall. “For gettin
g you in this mess. You’re only out here because you were looking for me. Because—”
“You kept running away,” I finish his statement.
He raises a brow and huffs.
“I know you probably think I’m some crazy chick who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.” I chuckle. “Hell, I think I’m crazy for being out here. Because I do not do this outdoorsy stuff, not at all.”
“So why did you come looking for me?” He takes a bite of his dinner.
I toy with my fingers. “You know when you came back with Brady, I just knew you’d come because you wanted to maybe talk about what’s happened between us. But then you snuck away, and honestly, if it wasn’t for Karen, I would have left it alone. Thing is, Karen’s…nosey. And persistent, and apparently she had a chat with Ian who shared something with her that she felt I needed to hear from you.”
His expression shifts, and regret flashes in his deep-brown eyes, but he doesn’t offer me a retort.
“My guess is there’s a reason why you’re so put off on the idea of there being something between us.” I pause, giving him a chance to interject, but when he doesn’t, I continue. “Zander— It’ll mean a great deal if you could be honest with me. Yes, we’ve known each other a short while, and I’m not one of those people who believe in love at first sight or anything like that.”
“I am.”
“But strangely enough, I feel something—”
We speak at the same time, his confession stopping me mid-thought.
“I’m one of those folks who believe in love at first sight.” He pauses. “I was married.” He pulls a knee to his chest. “To an amazing woman who surprisingly looked a lot like you. Her name was Melissa. We met in college, tied the knot shortly after, and were really happy for a long time. I’d lost my mother five years into our marriage and went through a dark spiral of depression. I…” He clears his throat. “Let’s just say I didn’t take it well. I packed my camping gear and booked it to these mountains, completely cut myself off from my friends, work, family, and even my wife.” He smiles. “But Melissa…same as you actually, wasn’t having it. She somehow figured out where I was camping, demanded I bring my ‘narrow ass home’.” He rolls his head and shakes a finger, mimicking how she’d said the words, but a second later, his shoulders slump. “I did. It didn’t help, I was still depressed and just wanted to be back in the forest. So I begged and did so until she agreed to move here. But I was still in pretty bad shape, eventually neglected her as a husband, and soon the fighting started. Melissa was a city girl. It was already a stretch getting her to move to a smaller town, but she did anything to make me happy. Fast forward a couple of years later, we were having major marital problems, got into this big-ass fight. Honestly, I don’t even remember what it was about. Anyway, she was pissed and needed to take a walk. I should have stopped her, followed her, hell, been a better husband altogether.” He chokes back tears. “It was winter and a bad one. Almost as bad as this one. It’d snowed literally three days straight. A tree grew weak, several miles off the mountain. It collapsed, and because it was a rather large tree, it triggered an avalanche. I had no idea what was happening until the aftershock reached where we lived. She’d been out there for hours, and not once did I think to go searching for her. If I had, then she wouldn’t…” He clears his throat again. “She died that night, three years ago. She was so pissed with me that she took her iPod with her. She never heard it coming because she was listening to music to clear her mind.”