Doreen swallowed the fear rising in her throat. “Just for a little bit,” she said, forcing confidence into her voice. “But we’re okay. We’re safe.”
For now.
The conditions would only worsen. Maybe if she got out and checked the car over, she might see a way of becoming unstuck.
“I’m going to take a look,” she told Jake as she reached for the door handle.
The cold slapped Doreen’s face when she opened the car door, far more brutal than she’d expected. The wind had picked up again, driving snow sideways in stinging sheets. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, trying to shield any exposed skin.
“Stay in the car with Bash,” she told Jake, but before she could fully step out, Bash lunged forward past her, leaping into the snow.
“Bash, no!” Jake called, but the dog ignored him.
Bash stood rigid in the snow, ears up, tail straight out behind him, every muscle alert. Every instinct in the dog’s body seemed to snap taut, as if some ancient animal knowing had been triggered deep inside him.
Then he barked—sharp and insistent—and darted toward the tree line about twenty feet from the car.
“What is it, boy?” Doreen followed reluctantly, the snow soaking through her boots. The wind cut through her coat as if it were made of paper, and she could already feel her fingers growing numb despite her gloves.
Bash barked again, pawing at something beneath the overhang of a small ridge. As Doreen approached, she realized with a surge of hope that it wasn’t just an overhang, it was the entrance to a shallow cave, naturally formed where the rock face had eroded away.
“Jake,” she called, turning back toward the car. “Come here. Bash found something.”
Jake climbed out cautiously, his small face screwed up against the biting wind. He trudged through the snow to join her, his eyes widening when he saw what Bash had discovered.
“A secret hideout!” he exclaimed, his earlier worry momentarily forgotten.
Doreen kneeled to examine the cave entrance. It was perhaps four feet high and twice as wide, opening to a space that extended about twelve feet back into the rock face. Most importantly, it was dry inside and sheltered from the wind.
“This is perfect,” she said, relief flooding through her. “Let’s get inside where it’s warmer.”
She guided Jake inside first, then followed with Bash right behind them. Inside, the temperature was still cold, but without the wind, it felt considerably more bearable. Doreen’s hands shook as she helped Jake further inside, the tremors betraying her anxiety despite her calm exterior.
“It’s like a real adventure,” Jake said, his breath visible in the chilly air.
“It is,” she agreed. “And this is the perfect time to use the emergency kit Deputy Pike gave you. You have it, right?”
“Yes!” He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a small metal tin. “Deputy Pike’s emergency kit! He said to always keep it with me.”
Doreen could have cried with relief as she opened the tin with trembling fingers. Inside lay exactly what they needed: a tiny LED light, a compact silver emergency blanket, a small whistle, and a waterproof matchbook.
“Deputy Pike says,always be prepared,” Jake announced, pride evident in his voice.
“He’s absolutely right,” Doreen said, her throat tight with gratitude. She set the LED light against the cave wall, casting a soft glow throughout their shelter.
It felt absurd, like James had reached through the storm and pressed the kit into her hands himself.
Next, she unfolded the emergency blanket. It was barely larger than a hand towel when packed, but expanded to cover Jake completely when opened. The silver material reflected his body heat back to him, and she tucked it carefully around his shoulders.
“Now for a fire,” she murmured, eyeing the cave floor. There was a small depression near the center that would work perfectly as a fire pit. She gathered dry pine needles and small twigs from just inside the cave entrance, arranging them carefully.
Her fingers were nearly numb as she struck one of the matches. It flared to life, and she shielded the tiny flame with her body as she touched it to the pine needles. They caught immediately, a small flame dancing to life. She fed it carefully with larger twigs and bits of bark until a modest but steady fire burned before them.
“There,” she said, sitting back on her heels. “That should keep us warm until help comes.”
The tiny flame felt like more than fire—it felt like reclaimed control, a fragile defiance against the storm pounding just outside.
Jake scooted closer to the fire, and Bash pressed protectively against his side, his fur a warm comfort in the chill of the cave. Doreen watched as Bash rested his muzzle on Jake’s knee, eyes alert and vigilant even as the boy’s fingers absently stroked his ears.
