Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Moving silently to the door, I grab my coat and pull it on, checking my gun before slipping outside. The cold hits me like a physical blow, wind-driven snow stinging my face. Visibility is near zero, the world beyond the porch lost in swirling white.
“Hank?” I call, my voice swallowed by the storm. “Hank!”
No answer.
I make my way toward the lean-to, following the guide rope we’d strung earlier between the cabin and the outbuilding. The horses are restless when I enter, Jeopardy nickering a welcome while Duke shifts nervously in his stall. All six horses and mule accounted for—so wherever Hank is, he didn’t take off riding.
Back outside, I scan the area around the cabin, looking for tracks. Fresh snow has already filled in any footprints, leaving the surface unbroken except for my own trail from the porch. I circle the perimeter of the immediate area, calling Hank’s name, fighting growing unease.
He wouldn’t have gone far. Not in these conditions. Not without telling me.
Unless something took him.
The thought sends ice through my veins that has nothing to do with the temperature. I complete the circuit around the cabin, returning to the porch without finding any sign of him. Inside, the warmth is momentary relief as I stamp snow from my boots and hang my coat.
“Something wrong?” Eli’s quiet voice startles me. He stands on the loft stairs, shotgun in hand, sleep-tousled but alert. I glance at Aubrey again but she’s still in deep sleep.
I’m envious.
“No sign of Hank,” I whisper, mindful of the others still sleeping upstairs. “No tracks I could find, but in this snow…”
Eli descends the rest of the way, concern etching his features. “How long?”
“Missed his check-in. Twenty minutes now.”
He curses under his breath. “I’ll get dressed. We’ll do a proper search.”
“Wake Cole and Red too,” I say. “We might need all hands in weather like this.”
While Eli rouses the others, I crouch beside Aubrey, reluctant to wake her but knowing she needs to be informed. Her eyes open at my touch, instantly alert in a way that speaks to training, to instincts honed by danger. It makes me pause for a moment, then I figure of course she would be on high alert here.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, sitting up.
“Hank’s missing,” I tell her, keeping my voice low. “Missed his check-in during watch. I did a quick search outside, didn’t find him.”
She’s on her feet immediately, reaching for her boots to put over her pajama pants. “I’ll help search.”
“No.” The word comes out sharper than intended. “I need you to stay here, keep watch over the cabin. If he’s lost in the storm, he might find his way back while we’re out looking.”
She doesn’t like it—I can see the argument forming behind her eyes—but she nods. “Be careful out there. Please.”
“Anything for you, Blondie,” I say with a faint smile.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs announce the others. Cole looks irritated at being woken, while Red seems almost amused, as if Hank’s disappearance is an inconvenience rather than a potential disaster.
“Get your gear,” I tell them. “We’ll search in pairs. Eli with me, Cole with Red. Check the lean-to, the outhouse, then expand outward in a grid. Stay within sight of the cabin lights if possible. Use the rope lines when you can’t.”
“He’s probably just around the corner,” Red says, pulling on his jacket over his long johns. “Probably just took a leak and got turned around in the storm. Man has a small bladder.”
“For half an hour?” Eli counters. “In this weather? Hank’s not stupid. If he needed to use the bathroom, he could have used the one inside.”
“Still,” Cole adds, buckling his gun belt, “he could have slipped, hit his head. Might be laying out there unconscious.”
“All the more reason to find him fast,” I say, ending the debate. “Check your weapons. If something is out there, we need to be ready.”
The implication hangs heavy in the air. After what we saw at Cedar Creek—the butchered deer arranged in that unnatural pattern—we all know this might be more than just a man lost in a storm.
At least Eli and I do.
Aubrey watches us prepare, her expression a mixture of concern and frustration at being left behind. I understand her need to be useful, to help—it’s one of the things I like most about her—but I can’t risk her out there. Not when I know what might be waiting in the darkness.
“Fifteen minutes,” I instruct as we prepare to head out. “Holler if you find anything. If you don’t, return to the cabin and we’ll reassess.”
Outside, the storm has intensified. Snow falls so thick it’s like trying to see through a white veil, the wind driving it horizontal. We split up at the porch steps, Cole and Red heading toward the outhouse while Eli and I move toward the north side of the clearing.