He crawled for hours—or at least it felt that way. Squeezing his eyes shut was the only way he could keep going. He would know when he reached land, he simply had to force himself onward.
At last, the surface beneath his hands changed. Not the icy crunch of snow, but the tangle of vines.
He forced his eyes open, but the way his head rattled from the shivers, he couldn’t focus on what he was seeing. This must be land, though. It had to be land. The last of his strength gave out, and he rolled onto his side.
As the darkness closed around him, the only sound he heard was the howl of a wolf.
Why did Charlotte’s heart race the nearer they drew to the lake? It wasn’t because she feared introducing her family to Damien. If they took any effort to get to know him, they would quickly see past the solemn façade to the caring man beneath.
It would be another day before they reached the place where she’d left Damien and Gulliver, anyway. She’d insisted they push on to the lake, though night had fallen many hours ago. The nook where she’d spent the night before was by far the best shelter around.
An eerie howl rose into the darkness, raising gooseflesh on her arms and sending her pulse skittering a little faster. They’d been hearing the wolf calls since dusk, but this was definitely nearer. Maybe the noise echoed more off the snow, but it sounded like the creatures were just on the lake ahead. If darkness didn’t shroud everything in shadows, she should be able to see the snow-covered ice in the distance.
“They’re coming closer.” Brielle kept her voice quiet beside Charlotte, but the words confirmed what she feared.
Charlotte pushed harder, lengthening her stride despite the weight of the snowshoes. Brielle matched her pace, and neither of them glanced back to see if Papa and Evan keptup. Wolf howls usually meant the pack was hungry, searching for food. What if they’d already spotted their prey?
It was unlikely Damien and Gulliver would have reached this place yet. But if they had...
At last, the flat surface of the lake appeared ahead. As she kept moving, she scanned what parts of the bank she could see. She must be near the area where she’d first seen Damien. She’d been at the end of her strength that day, frozen and exhausted. He’d appeared seemingly from nowhere, giving her enough fear to resurrect a bit of energy. Now, she couldn’t be more thankful he’d found her.
She refocused her attention on the terrain ahead—and covering it as quickly as possible. A sound drifted from the distance. Something like a snarl, but maybe her imagination had distorted the noise.
Still, she charged forward. What if the wolf pack had found that scrawny coyote Damien made friends with? Seeing the animal’s trust of him had been one of her first inklings of his true heart.
Lord, don’t let that innocent coyote be the victim this night.
They maneuvered a quarter of the way around the lake, which meant in another quarter, they would reach the cave and the area where she planned to make camp. The sounds seemed to be coming from that direction, too.
“Charlotte.”
She nearly jumped at Brielle’s hissed word. Though she turned to see what her sister wanted, she didn’t slow her pace. At least, not until she realized Brielle had stepped off the path. She was peering at something on the lake, though the underbrush must make it hard to see.
“What is it? I think the wolves might have something pinned up there.” She sent a glance forward as another snarl sounded, this one too guttural and ferocious to be mistaken.
But when she took a step toward the animal noises, Brielle’s words gave her pause again. “Something’s here.”
Charlotte’s heart stuttered. “An animal?” Maybe the wolves had already attacked the coyote, then moved on to new prey. But there must be hundreds of animals living in this area. Chances of this being Damien’s little friend were unlikely.
“A person.” Brielle plunged through the brush, and her words made Charlotte’s breath stall.
A person? Who would be out here? Had this become someone’s frozen grave? The men caught up to them as Charlotte crowded behind her sister. Brielle dropped to her knees beside a figure covered in snow, with only a few dark patches of fur showing at each end.
“I think he’s still alive.” Brielle pressed a hand to one of those dark patches.
Charlotte sucked in a breath as she moved to a place where she could kneel beside her sister. Only then did she get a clear view of the strip of face peering through snow and fur.
Damien.
A cry slipped out as she reached for him. How could he be here? Like this?
She slid her fingers across his brow—cold, but not so much that death had already taken over.Lord, don’t let him...
She scraped the snow from his short beard, her movements turning frantic as she struggled to get the icy powder off him. Brielle did the same for his shoulders, and when she finished his face, Charlotte reached toward an arm that poked upfrom the snow. As she scrubbed the snow off, she struggled to imagine why he would be out here at the edge of the lake, nearly dead.Lord, don’t let him be past recovery.
It didn’t look as though fresh snow had fallen over his body—more like he’d rolled in the powder. But the ice crystals hanging from every part of him ... Why would they have gathered, especially with this warm wind? And where was his coat?
Evan had moved to Damien’s feet and was working to clear the snow there, while Brielle kept scrubbing at his shirt. Charlotte refocused her attention on Damien’s face, turning his head so she could place her hands on both cheeks. “Wake up, my love. Wake up.”
