Every morning I wake up in Eli’s arms, the cabin filled with soft light and the smell of pine and coffee. My body has fully healed. The bruises are gone. The nightmares have faded to faint echoes that Eli chases away with gentle kisses and quiet words. We have built something real here on the mountain. Mornings where he makes breakfast and I sit at the counter watching him. Afternoons spent in his workshop while he teaches me how to sand wood. Evenings curled on the couch with the whole team at the lodge, laughter filling the big room. Nights where he pulls me close and whispers that I am home.
I love him more every single day.
Today I stand in the bathroom of our cabin, staring at the small white stick on the counter. Two pink lines stare back at me. Pregnant. The word echoes in my head and fills my chest with warmth so bright it almost hurts. I press a hand to my stomach, imagining a tiny life growing there. A little boy with Eli’s dark eyes or a girl with his steady calm. I can’t wait to tell him. Ipicture his face lighting up, the way he’ll pull me into his arms and kiss me like I’m the most precious thing in his world.
I tuck the test into my pocket, already smiling as I step out of the bathroom. Eli’s in the kitchen making lunch. The smell of grilled cheese and tomato soup fills the cabin. He turns when he hears me and that private smile curves his lips.
“You look happy,” he says, pulling me close for a kiss.
“I am,” I tell him, heart fluttering with the secret I’m carrying. “Very happy.”
Before I can say more, his radio crackles on the counter. Rafe’s voice comes through, tight and urgent.
“Eli, we have a problem. Thorne went out this morning tracking that missing woman from town. She was reported gone three days ago. He was supposed to check in an hour ago. Radio silence. We can’t reach him.”
Eli’s body goes still against mine. His arms tighten around me for a second, then he reaches for the radio.
“Copy. What’s the last known location?”
“North ridge trail, about four miles from the old mine entrance. Weather is turning. We’re putting together a search party now.”
Eli looks at me, conflict clear in his eyes. I rest my hand on his chest. “Go. They need you. I’ll be fine here.”
He kisses me hard, quick, full of promise. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Lock the door. Stay inside until I call.”
“I will. Be careful.”
He grabs his coat and medical bag and heads out. I watch from the window as he jogs toward the lodge where the other men are already gathering. The happiness I felt moments ago shifts into worry. Thorne is one of the quietest, most capable men here. If he’s missing, something is very wrong.
I pace the cabin for a while, then try to distract myself with a book. The words blur on the page. My hand keeps drifting to my stomach, to the tiny secret growing there. I can’t wait to tell Eli. I imagine his face when I show him the test. The way his eyes will soften. The way he’ll pull me close and whisper that we’re going to be a family.
The radio on the counter crackles again. This time it is Boyd.
“Still no contact with Thorne. Weather is getting worse. Visibility dropping. We are heading out in ten.”
I chew my lip and stare at the device. The team will find him. They always do. But the worry gnaws at me anyway.
An hour passes. Then another. The sky outside darkens with heavy clouds. Snow starts to fall in thick flakes. I make tea and try to read again, but my mind keeps drifting to Eli out there in the cold, searching for his brother. To Thorne, alone somewhere on the ridge.
Snow falls harder outside. The wind howls through the pines. Somewhere on the north ridge, Thorne is missing. I think of the woman. I think of Eli, trying desperately to locate Thorne.
I hope they all come back soon.
EPILOGUE
THORNE
The wind has picked up over the last hour, sharp and biting, carrying the heavy scent of coming snow. I keep moving anyway, boots sinking into the deepening drifts as I follow the faint trail left in the snow. The missing woman’s footprints are still visible in places, small and hurried, leading higher up the north ridge. She has been out here for at least three days now. Cold. Scared. Possibly hurt. My job is simple: find her.
I adjust the strap of my pack and check the radio clipped to my vest again. Static. Nothing but static. The last clear transmission from the team came almost two hours ago. Rafe telling me to head back before the storm hits. I replied that I was close. That I could see fresh signs. Then the signal dropped and never came back.
Now the sky has turned the color of dirty steel, and the first fat flakes are beginning to swirl around me. The temperature is dropping fast. I pull my hood tighter and keep climbing, eyes scanning the ground for any sign of her. A broken branch here. A scrap of fabric caught on a rock there. She’s heading toward the old mine shafts. Bad place to be caught in a storm.
My breath fogs in front of me. The cold bites through my gloves and into my fingers. I flex them to keep the blood moving. I’ve been out here since first light, tracking steadily, but the weather is turning faster than any of us expected. The team will be worried. Eli will already be cursing my name for not turning back when the radio died. But I can’t leave her out here alone. Not when I’m this close.
Another set of prints appears in a sheltered spot beneath a rocky overhang. Smaller boots. Fresh. She stopped here recently, maybe to rest. The snow around the prints is disturbed, like she sat down for a minute. I crouch and study the marks. She’s limping now. Favoring her right leg. Hypothermia will be setting in soon if it hasn’t already.
I stand and press on, following the trail as it winds higher. The wind howls louder between the trees, whipping snow into my face. Visibility’s dropping fast. The world has narrowed to a few yards in every direction. I click on my headlamp even though it’s still daylight. The beam cuts through the swirling white, picking out the next set of prints.
