Page 14 of Seeking Shelter

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jonah

Abel’s red coat is visible behind a post in the horse stall. He spots Angel and raises his pistol. Shooting uphill with a handgun there’s little chance he’ll hit his target, but I’m not taking a chance. I squeeze off a round and a split second later, the post next to his head splinters. I work the bolt to chamber the next round.

Angel reaches my side. I can’t hit the asshole in his current position. I want to keep him pinned down but resist the urge to fire again. We need to conserve ammo.

I sling the rifle over my back and push Angel in front of me. “Lead the way. We need to travel fast to outpace Denny.”

She moves and we cover ground quickly. Overhead, clouds scuttle before a stiff wind.

“What’s up ahead?”

“The trail snakes around that outcropping then drops into a series of switchbacks. We’ll be in the trees soon so there’s cover.”

I nod. “Good.”

Just as we round the bend, I grab her backpack to slow her down. “Hold on. I want to see if we’re being followed.”

The outcropping provides good protection, but the trail is narrow between the rock wall and a steep drop. “Set down your pack and come here.” I pull her between me and the rock wall so she’s away from the edge and out of sight. I crane my neck to look back the way we came, distracted by Angel’s body tucked against mine.

No showers for either of us and I still smell peaches.

With her head under my chin, she tilts her head to peer around the bend. I wrap an arm around her to hold her steady. I can admit to myself she’s safe enough, but having her close centers me. Helps clear my head. It’s a humbling realization.

Can’t see the line shack, but we’ve got a good view of the trail behind us. Sheets of rain are heading in our direction.

I spot movement just as Angel says, “There’s Denny.”

He’s below the ridge about where I’d left her to hike up and contact dispatch. Rail thin, he looks like a scarecrow in his heavy coat. He’s bent over, hands braced on his knees like he’s out of breath.

“We’ve got a good lead but need to keep hoofing it,” I say.

Angel hurriedly digs out her rain poncho before hoisting her backpack onto her shoulders. I do the same.

Wearing the rain gear, we take the switchbacks and descend quickly, the trail widening and turning north.

“How’d you know this trail was here, and where’s it taking us?”

She’s quiet so long, I think she won’t answer.

Then with a sigh, she says, “Wildheart’s grazing permits used to extend from Desolation Wilderness into Eldorado National Forest and we’d drive cattle up there. There’s an old line shack there near a spring. We haven’t maintained the cabin or kept it stocked, though hikers use it.”

“This trail takes us there?”

She nods. “It does. And from the cabin, there’s a trail out of the mountains that puts us north of the ranch by about a mile.”

She’s finally talking to me, and I don’t want her to stop. So I keep with the questions. “Were you in on the cattle drives?”

“I was. Plus, when we were old enough, my brothers, the twins, all of us, we’d come up here to hike and camp.”

I glance at her. “Even after your folks died?” The car accident that’d killed her parents had been caused by a pickup crossing the double yellow and hitting them head-on. It’d rocked the community. The driver was a local kid, only seventeen years old, and he’s had to live with what he did for his entire life.

“Yeah, even then. Brooks and Elias were determined to keep us close. I guess enforced time together is one way to do that.”

“They took on a lot of responsibility.”

She nods. “They did. My grandparents moved in with us, but seven kids are a lot.”