LOST AND FOUND
BY LINDA G. HILL
Chevonne is hiking on a deserted trail when the snowstorm hits. Her dog runs off when she twists her ankle and falls, and without a phone signal to call her best friend, she’s sunk. Or so she thinks.
Brevin is minutes away from leaving his cabin when he’s approached by a St. Bernard. It convinces him to follow it …
Chevonne is stunned when her high school crush shows up to rescue her. Maybe, just maybe, this will make up for Brevin standing her up years ago. If he even remembers.
Lost and Foundis a loose retelling of “Beauty and the Beast.”
CHAPTER 1
Chevonne
Hadit been a stupid idea to go for a hike today? Maybe. But the forecast hadn’t predicted the snow until later. The forecast also hadn’t predicted I would trip over a rock and twist my ankle. Stupid weather. Stupid rock. Stupid everything.
Then Princess had taken off when I fell and let go of her collar. I thought St. Bernards were supposed to rescue people, not abandon them.
I’d valiantly stood and tried to hobble down the path, favoring my lame foot, but with nothing to hold onto, I’d realized quickly that it was no good. I was stuck on a trail that no sane person would be out on until the blizzard let up.
The last people I’d passed this afternoon had been going down the hill toward the parking lot as I was still going up. I’d thought then about turning around and going back, but I figured just another half an hour. The sky had still been clear. Then the wind picked up and the clouds came on fast, showing up above me as I’d reached a clearing in the trees. That was when I’d turned around awkwardly, and the rest was history.
So there I sat alone in the middle of the hiking path, increasingly sharp flakes of snow covering the sleeves of my jacket. Scooching all the way down the hill on my butt wasn’t an option; it would take hours. I pulled my phone out to call for help, but of course there was no signal. That would be too good to be true.
With any luck, Princess had gone to find the people we passed—my awesome, brave pupper to the rescue. The alternative …
“I’m going to die here,” I mumbled to myself, burying my face in my arms propped up on my knee so my tears wouldn’t freeze. I sat that way, feeling sorry for myself until I realized I couldn’t stay in the middle of the trail. What if a snowmobile came along and ran me over? On the other hand, I couldn’t go too far off the trail because what if a snowmobile came along and they missed me?
Off to my right was a stand of healthy pine trees, so I started moving in that direction on my hands and knees, careful not to turn my ankle. To survive this, I’d have to at least get out of the direct snowfall, but that would mean I’d be hidden from sight.
I decided to leave my backpack on top of the foot of snow beside the trail, taking out my granola bar and pocketing it first. There was nothing else in there that could help me in this situation. I’d just have to come back out once in a while and clear the snow off my pack. If someone saw it, maybe they’d at least slow down long enough for me to get their attention.
I crawled the rest of the way to the pine trees and sure enough, there was a spot close to the trunks where the ground was covered in nothing but pine needles. And it was out of the wind that was picking up. Bonus.
Before I went in, I scanned the area once more.
“Princess?” I called. My voice was swallowed by the shroud of snow.
In my freezing cold shelter, I made myself as small as possible to keep my extremities warm while I waited out the storm. I thought about my cozy living room and the specialty teas my best friend Tina had given me for my birthday last month. What I wouldn’t have done for a steaming hot cup of Earl Grey. Or even a cheap coffee in a paper cup in an emergency waiting room, where I should have been right now getting my ankle x-rayed.
I heard Tina’s voice in my head, berating me for coming all the way out here to hike this trail instead of staying closer to home. But then, as she refused to understand, I loved being alone with my thoughts. It was how I worked things out, and at the moment, I had a lot of things to work out. My job situation was unstable, and my living situation was at risk because of it. Work had cut my hours due to computers taking over my tasks, and I didn’t know where next month’s rent was going to come from. What I really wanted to do with my life was write novels about the sort of relationship I wished I had with a man in real life. In all, I had a lot of decisions to make.
Before I came out here, Tina had made me promise to bring Princess to “look after me.” Tina ordered me around a lot—I wasn’t entirely sure why I put up with it, but we’d been friends forever, so it was more a habit than anything.
I should have told her that first of all, I wouldn’t go on a hike without my dog. Tina had what she called a designer pup she carried in her purse. She didn’t get the concept of walking a dog. And second of all, fat lot of good bringing Princess to look after me had done.
I had dressed for the weather to an extent. I didn’t like getting sweaty when I walked, and since I’d started trying to lose weight, I knew I’d be booting it up the hill, so my coat wasn’t my heaviest one. After sitting here for only about fifteen minutes, I was already getting chilled through.
Princess must have gone for help—there was no way she’d abandon me otherwise, would she? Although, if going for help meant going back to Ottawa to get Tina, I was going to be here for a couple of days.
The snow was coming down so heavy, I could barely see my backpack from my spot under the tree.
To keep myself from breaking down in tears again because it would do me no good to wallow, I let my mind wander to the one thing I was good at. That anyone had complimented me on in the last decade, at least. My job as a bookkeeper. And more than that, my ability to organize things. Maybe, I thought, if I organized what I could do to get out of this predicament, I’d actually get out of it.
I searched around the area I was sitting in for a long branch, one I could use to brush the snow off my backpack without having to go out too far into the snow. I crawled around for a while—my shelter was a tight grouping of six trees—and found a suitable dead branch. I’d still have to get up to reach the backpack, but it worked to get the snow cleared.
With that done, I sat against the trunk of the tree nearest the trail and tried not to think about the dampness that seeped through my jeans or the throbbing in my ankle. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander farther, to places where it was warm.
