“How much farther?” Matt asked, squinting through the rain-streaked glass.
Another ranger, Daphne Stevens, was seated in the front passenger seat beside Ben. She looked down at her GPS. “Half a mile to the trailhead, then it’s a quarter-mile hike to the den. The person who found the pups said there are lots of fallen branches and the river is rising fast.”
Matt exchanged a glance with Lynda. Sturdy hiking pants, a waterproof jacket, and boots now replaced her elegant dress from the fundraiser. She’d tied her hair back in a practical braid,and her face was free of makeup. To Matt, she’d never looked more beautiful.
Lynda checked the medical kit for the third time. “If we can stabilize the mother, we might be able to save both her and the pups.”
Matt nodded, though privately he was less optimistic. The worsening storm and the remote location was working against them.
The truck slid as they rounded a bend, and Ben corrected the steering. Flathead Lake was to the left of them, but it was so dark that Matt couldn’t see a thing past the edge of the road.
“There!” Daphne pointed to a small clearing ahead. “That’s the trailhead.”
Ben pulled the truck as close as possible, then cut the engine. The sudden silence made the hammering rain seem even louder. “We’ll need to move quickly but carefully. Remember to stay together. This storm’s getting worse by the minute.”
They geared up quickly—headlamps, rain ponchos over their already wet-weather gear, backpacks with medical supplies, and a GPS to find the pups location. Matt carried a collapsible stretcher for the mother wolfdog, while Lynda held a carrying case designed for small animals.
The moment they stepped out of the truck, the full force of the storm hit them. The rain was coming sideways now, driven by gusts of wind that bent the tops of the pines surrounding them. The ground underfoot was a treacherous mix of mud, fallen leaves, and exposed roots.
“This way!” Ben called, already heading up a narrow path that was quickly becoming a stream.
Matt fell into step behind him, with Lynda close behind and Daphne bringing up the rear. The beam of his headlamp bounced off rain-slicked rocks and puddles as they climbedsteadily upward. Though the distance wasn’t great, the conditions made every step a challenge.
Ten minutes into the hike, the walkie-talkie on Ben’s belt crackled to life. “Base to rescue team. There are reports of flash flooding farther up the valley. How far away from the pups are you?”
“We’re almost at the den site,” Ben replied. “We’ll get out of here as fast as we can.”
There was a pause, then the voice said, “Understood. But make it quick. The worst of the storm hasn’t passed.”
Ben ended the call and they pushed forward, climbing the steep and slippery slope as best they could.
“There!” Ben stopped, pointing his light toward a rocky outcropping about fifty yards ahead. “The den should be just beyond those fallen trees.”
They approached carefully. Wolfdog hybrids could be unpredictable in the best of circumstances, and an injured mother protecting her pups would be doubly dangerous.
As they drew closer, Matt’s heart sank. Even from a distance, he could see the massive trunk of a pine tree that had fallen directly across the entrance to a small cave. Beneath it, barely visible, was the still form of a large animal.
“Oh no,” Lynda breathed beside him.
They all hurried toward the wolfdog. She lay motionless, the fallen tree pinning her body to the ground. Even in death, the mother was magnificent. She had silver-gray fur, a powerful build, with features that clearly showed both her wolf and dog heritage.
Matt knelt beside the animal, placing a gentle hand on her side, though he already knew what he would find. No heartbeat, no breath. “She’s only been dead for an hour or two,” he said quietly.
Lynda was already moving past the mother, toward the small opening of the den. “The puppies,” she said urgently. “If they’re still alive, we need to get to them.”
Matt joined her, shining his light into the darkness. The beam caught a movement—something small and furry huddled at the back of the den.
“They’re alive!” Lynda exclaimed. “I can see at least three of them.”
Matt looked around the opening. “It’s too small for either of us to crawl through. We’ll need to move some of these rocks to widen it.”
Working together, they removed the stones from around the entrance while the rangers kept watch for any signs of further landslides or falling trees. The rain continued to pour down, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.
“Almost there,” Matt grunted as he shifted a heavy boulder. “Try now, Lynda. You’re smaller than me.”
Lynda didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her hands and knees and began to wiggle into the opening, her headlamp shining into the cave.
“Be careful,” Matt couldn’t help saying, his heart in his throat as she disappeared into the dark space.
