“Sure. That would be nice. Thanks for understanding.” I back out of the driveway behind him, circle the block a couple times, and retrace my steps.
Inside the house once again, Toby sniffs my outstretched hand and when he wags his tail, it gives me an idea.
“C’mon boy.” I snap his leash to his collar, then stop abruptly. “Wait. I might need a weapon.”
Most hunters lock their long guns in a rack, someplace out of the way. I locate Cole’s in the garage. Using a crow bar, I break it open, choose a Remington, and stuff shells in my pocket. Unloaded, and safety on, I place it in my backseat.
God, please let this feeling be wrong.With Toby at my side, I hit redial one more time but still nothing. Sensing my unease, the dog jumps in the car without any problem and stares out the front window as I wipe off an inch of powdered snow.
“Ready?”
“Woof.” Paws on the dash, he leans forward.
“Yeah. I’m worried, too.” I start the engine and slide all over the road until I hit the main highway. At the final hill, I smash my foot on the accelerator and roar past a truck who almost made it to the top. The yellow flashers say he’s given up. On the other side of the mountain, I almost miss the familiar Ford pickup, hidden behind a snow bank.
This is so wrong. He shouldn’t be out in weather like this.
Jumping out with Toby, I grab the shotgun off the back seat. Thank heavens, I always wear warm flannel pajamas because I never went back to change my clothes. In my heavy coat and fur lined boots, I pull my hat lower, protecting my ears from the wind.
The dog, impervious to the weather, barks and pulls hard on the leash. I let him take the lead into the woods.
“Go find Cole.”
When he gets the scent, his pull wrenches my shoulder socket. A rifle shot in the distance makes him go wild. He breaks free of my hold and dashes out of view.
For the longest time I follow his paw tracks until they disappear. Lost in a snow globe, I swivel in a full circle. Time is running out. I feel it deep in my bones.
“Tobeeeeee.” I call out for almost an hour until I hear a faint response.
“Arf.” Hope surges as I trudge in his direction. Once in a while, a paw track shows under a pine tree. With no GPS, I rely on the minimal skills learned over a decade ago as a Girl Scout.
“Cole? You out there?”There-ere-ere-ere.My voice bounces back from the face of a nearby mountain.
“Go back! Get help-elp-elp.” At first, Cole’s warning doesn’t sink in because I’m praising God he’s alive.
I’m about to answer back when a menacing female voice sounds uphill from my position. “This is none of your affair. Go home, city girl.”
Wait.First there’s gunshots, then get-help, and now, threats.
Yikes.Heart pounding, I load my weapon.
As the brush moves to my right, I jump, point, and aim, but it’s my new pal, Toby. Flying down the hill, he nudges behind my knees, runs forward, and waits with his tail shivering in the air.It doesn’t take a dog whisperer to understand he expects me to follow.
Chapter 20
Cole
In my bedroom, toasty and warm, Toby licks my face. Why is snow falling inside my home? A tiny piece of brain triggers an alarm.
Oh shit.Something is not right.
“Cole!”Is that Danni calling me?Where is she? Where am I?
A small reserve of adrenaline courses through my veins, my heart thumps, and a few gray cells fire. How long have I been unconscious? It could be seconds or days.
“Go back! Get help.” I pray she heard.
Shifting to my hands and knees, I remember my dog. “Toby. Go. Find Danni.”
