Chapter 1
Gia
Themountainshumwhenthey're hiding something.
At least, that's what I tell myself as I sweep my metal detector over the snow-dusted ridge, listening for a sound that might turn a legend into truth.
Each pass makes a soft whoop-whoop, steady as my heartbeat under all these layers of clothes. The air is crisp enough to sting my nostrils, sharp enough to make my eyes water. Below, the town is probably stringing lights and doing Christmas cookie exchanges, but up here it's just me, the wind singing through the frozen branches, and whatever the mountain's keeping secret.
I nudge aside a snow drift with my boot. Nothing. Another sweep. Still nothing. My toes are half-numb inside my thermal socks, and my optimism is starting to fade.
"Come on, Santa's Merry Side Hustle," I mutter, breath pluming white in the December air. "Give me something shiny."
The detector chirps, and my pulse jumps. I drop to one knee, scrape away the snow with fingers already aching from the cold, and sigh when a bottle cap winks back, its edges rusted and sharp.
"Unless you once rode a gold-filled train, you don't make the cut."
I flick it aside, laugh at myself, and keep going. The legend says a Christmas Eve train derailed somewhere around here two hundred years ago, scattering its cargo of coins and jewelry across the mountain. The train line was dismantled a few years later, and the forest has buried whatever traces of the track remain.
Treasure hunters have been searching the mountain for decades, hoping to find riches beyond their wildest imaginations. So far, all have been met with disappointment.
That will not be me.
The cold seeps through my jeans where they press against the snow. Above, the sky's turning that peculiar pewter color that means weather's coming, the kind of gray that swallows the horizon and makes the world feel smaller.
When the detector finally sings a sharper tone, I kneel again and uncover an antique brass button stamped with a star. It’s small, perfect, and glinting in the pale light like a promise. Not the gold I’m looking for, but it’s from the right time period. The metal's cold against my palm, smooth except where time has pitted its surface. I take it as a sign that I’m on the right track.
I'm grinning at it when the world changes—no sound, no warning, just that invisible shift that says you're not alone anymore. The hair on the back of my neck prickles.
Slowly, I straighten. The forest holds its breath. Then a shape detaches from the trees, stepping forward. It’s a man, tall, broad, and wearing dark clothes. Snow clings to his shoulders and his winter hat, and his breath makes small clouds in the frigid air.
He doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just watches with eyes the color of evergreens in shadow.
"Uh…hi," I say, aiming for friendly adventurer and landing somewhere between nervous and over-cheerful. "Nice day for a hike?"
Still, he says nothing. His gaze flicks from my detector to the half-dug patch of snow, then to the old, broken rail line that cuts through the ridge.
The wind picks up, sharp and fast, tossing flakes between us that catch in my eyelashes and melt against my flushed cheeks.
He finally says, voice low enough to rumble through the air like distant thunder, "You're a long way from anywhere."
"Anywhere'soverrated," I answer, gripping the detector a little tighter. The metal's so cold now it stings through my glove. "Right now, I'm exactly where I want to be."
He pauses for a moment. Then, with that same even calm that makes me feel both safe and slightly scolded, he says, "Storm's coming. You should head down."
I blink at him, at the gathering gray behind his head, and realize the sky's already closing in. The wind's changed too, no longer playful but purposeful, carrying the scent of more snow. "You live around here?"
"Close enough."
"A mountain man," I murmur, half-amused. "I figured as much."
His mouth twitches like he's deciding whether to smile or turn and vanish back into the woods. His beard's neatly trimmed, dark with threads of silver, and there's a scar cutting through one eyebrow that makes him look like he's perpetually skeptical.
Instead, he nods once toward the trees. "There's shelter that way. I'll show you."
And just like that, my solo treasure hunt turns into something else entirely.
Chapter 2
