Sully made a sound, more of acknowledgment than agreement.
Around them the wind howled, more open here. It wound through her jacket.
The dog had vanished, out ahead of them.
She wanted a bath—a hot bath—and cocoa and her wool socks and flannel pajamas and—
A crack sounded, and for a second, she nearly ducked. But Dawson held her tight against him and froze.
“Is that the ice?”
“Could just be groaning. Ice does that,” Sully said. But he, too, stilled.
Wait—what? She drew in a breath.
“This day just keeps getting better,” Dawson muttered, then looked at her. “Can you swim?”
“Is that a joke?” She cleared her throat. “We go in the water, we’re dead.”
He glanced at Sully. “Hang back.”
“What, why? Are you serious?” Keely asked.
He didn’t answer her, just eased her forward.
Oh ... please,God,get me out of this.
He slowed them, easing into each step, and she practically held her breath.
Ten feet more, and then behind them, Sully started to move.
If Thornwood had followed them, now would be the perfect time to pick them off.Aaand... she’d clearly watched one too many action movies.
Barking on the far side made her look up. The dog paced the opposite shore, then started bounding out toward them.
“Caspian! Go back!” Dawson motioned to the animal, but he didn’t respond. Just kept coming.
Another crack, somewhere in the distance, and Dawson tightened his hold on her. His hip pressed against hers, and weirdly, a sort of strength strummed through her. He picked up his pace.
Caspian had nearly reached them, and now barked, turning, as if beckoning them to follow.
He bounded back to shore, now some twenty feet away.
The next crack sounded right under their feet. Dawson didn’tmove. “Ice is thinner near shore. It melts first, and all this snow is an insulator.”
Perfect.
And then he pointed.
Maybe thirty feet away, a small opening in the ice revealed a slate-gray puddle of open water.
“It’s a warm water hole,” Dawson said. “A current, or even marsh gasses, can keep the water warm enough not to freeze.”
She nodded. Glanced at the shore. So close. “Now what?” Her voice emerged rough-edged in the wind and snow, barely audible.
Caspian continued to bark louder, pacing the shore. Then, suddenly, he bolted and ran toward the lodge.
No, toward amandressed in an orange hunting suit, towing a flat-bottomed toboggan. Another man accompanied him, carrying a ladder.
