His arm wrapped around her—not tightly, but present, as if he already understood how she worked. She should push him away and stand on her own. She should burst this bubble she’d somehow created between them. It was dangerous to let herself want something this badly.
“Bo!” Elias hissed, bringing her back to reality with a jolt.
***
Where the hell was she?
Elias scanned the woods around them, seeing nothing but snow and mud, tall, straight trunks, a practically sheer rock face to the north, more forest to the west, and—
His eyes skidded, returning to where they’d spotted movement.
Oh no.
“What is it?” Leo half yelled through the aircraft’s roar.
He glanced down at her, surprised that she’d picked up on his anxiety. Although she could probably feel his heart thumping against her face. He lifted his chin to the ridge opposite. No point trying to talk above the engine noise now.
Slowly, Leo turned, her big, intelligent eyes scanning everything. He felt her jolt the moment she caught sight of their problem—problems, actually.
About thirty yards ahead, through the woods, the ground appeared to slope gently and then rise again. There, just about level with them, a large, white, fluffy horned mountain goat and its kid perched on a ledge.
“Wait here,” he hollered, already moving in that direction. He let out a short, low whistle. “Borealis!” Maybe she hadn’t tried to stalk the goats. Maybe she’d run back into the woods after a squirrel or something. Yeah right. What squirrel?
The helicopter drew closer, so near now he could feel the vibration in his bones. Something moved to his right: Leo, running beside him.
“Don’t come,” he yelled over the din. “Wait here.”
She didn’t bother looking at him, just kept pace.
Closer to the promontory, the trees grew sparse, the ground rocky, the slope steep and slippery and—
He threw out an arm just as his boot hit the edge of a massive boulder, cragged and pitted by time. Leo bumped into it and went still. There was no cover here—just air above them. They’d be seen if the helicopter flew this way. “Go back!” he yelled, dropping and crawling to the end. He barely registered the cocktail of fear and adrenaline and anger running through him. Anger at Bo for running after an animal—again. Anger at himself for not training her. Of course, huskies did whatever the hell they wanted anyway, so it hadn’t really been an option.
Or the point, really. She wasn’t a tool. She was a companion. Just two beings living out here on their own, together.
At the edge, he caught a flash of white and gray, about eight feet down, and the emotions coalesced into relief, so strong he’d probably collapse when this was over. No time to rest now.
She’d obviously picked her way down to a shelf and, being a dog, not the mountain goat she thought she was, hadn’t managed to climb up again. A few precious seconds of intense scrutiny showed him footholds and handholds and a crack he could wedge himself into. Without hesitating, he levered his legs over the side and made the climb—quickly.
Almost to the shelf, he glanced up, unsure if he’d rather see Leo’s face looking down at him or not.
She was there, crouched at the edge, eyes on him and then up at the sky. “They’re close!”
He shifted his weight. Another couple feet to go. The aircraft seemed headed right their way, the air changing, his eardrums thrumming with the rhythm. A final stretch down and he’d made it to Bo’s ledge, which was hopefully sturdy enough to hold both their weights.
A glance up showed that Leo had disappeared. He could only hope she’d found shelter before the chopper reached them.
Bo bumped his leg with her head and probably whined, though he couldn’t hear it. Across the chasm, the goat had disappeared in the way of mountain goats in high places. Above, the leaves flapped madly. Close. Too damned close. This was it. There was nowhere to go. No hiding place. Bo’s bright fur was sure to be spotted.
The aircraft’s shadow seeped into sight and in the next moment, Elias’s fear sloughed off like a second skin. His moves were quick and instinctual. Left foot shoved into the crack, weight balanced, he bent and grabbed Bo around the middle. Hauling her up and into his arms, he pressed her to the rock with his body, bent his head, and hoped his coat and dark hair would be camouflage enough. He wouldn’t look up, didn’t dare move, though he could have sworn he felt the shadow’s dark reach.
At some point, he started counting, since his ears could no longer tell the difference between right above and moving away. He made it to ten, fifteen, up to thirty… Each number felt like a step climbed, a level achieved, another year in a decade of being alone.
By the time fifty rolled around, he could hear his breath beating against cold stone, could feel his fingers digging too hard into Bo’s ribs, could feel the hard rock like a vise around his foot. Hopefully he hadn’t shoved it in there too hard. He’d hate to leave the boot behind. Or his damn toes.
Something like laughter expanded his chest, though he couldn’t see the humor in any of this. He did it again, this time apparently waking Bo from her own stupor. She tried wriggling and he tightened his hold, not even wanting to know how far they’d fall if she moved in earnest.
“Holy shit.” Leo’s voice reached him from above. He couldn’t lean back, wouldn’t dare to look for fear of dislodging this whole exercise in physics. “What do you need?”
