Timberline Trail (14 page)

“Good morning,” she called, warmth stealing through her.

Jon turned abruptly and smiled weakly at her. This morning he wore an aviator’s cap trimmed with dark brown fur on its leather flaps, which he’d lowered over his ears. His cheeks were stained red from the cold and his breath formed heavy puffs of vapor. He’d donned his dark blue parka and heavy snow gloves.

“So, you’re up.
I was just about to wake you. Sugar awoke at six a.m., and I let him out. He’s returned now and is lying on the floor of your tent gnawing on a frozen T-bone steak. His wound looks fine but when I tried to touch the bandage he tried to snap my hand off.”

“I’m so glad,
” explained Tia. “Not about your hand I mean, but the wolf.” She grabbed her Scandinavian ski cap and shoving it over her head, thrust her hands into the heavy-duty mittens.

“I’m not sure the wood is going to be dry enough since it was out in the open,” drifted Jon’s voice.
“I’ll try to start the fire for warmth, but I’ve already made hot coffee on the Coleman stove outside your tent.”

Standing
upon the elevated planks, Tia glimpsed Sugar through the nylon mesh lying on the heavy quilt. The loafer’s tail thumped in recognition before he returned greedily to the large T-bone. Tia poured a brimming cup of coffee and added a spoonful of sugar. However, when she tried to pour the milk nothing flowed from the silver canister. Flipping the lid upward, she saw the milk was frozen solid. Jon halted at the foot of the low porch.

“No luck?” he asked.

“It’s perfectly frozen.” She placed the silver mug on the burner to enable the milk to thaw.

“I’ve only got powdered eggs and sausage, so it’ll have to do.”

Tia’s lips twitched. Jon’s abrupt manner didn’t faze her a bit after last night. Besides, she’d seen him smile and was content to wait until he showered her with another delightful grin.

“What’s so funny?” he asked coarsely.

“You have such a lovely smile,” she said mildly.

“And don’t use it enough?
Sometimes a bit rough on the edges? A bit too forward when I finally do speak? Maybe I could practice using a little more tact? You sound just like my sister.”

“I’m so glad.”

His eyes warmed, scanning her oversized outfit and bright Scandinavian cap. “I’m... um... sorry about last night.”

“Well I’m not.”

Jon glanced away, clearly startled by her answer. “You do the eggs then; I’ll put the chains on the tires since there’s no way we’re going to make it through the drifts without them.”

“Oh I forgot!” exclaimed Tia. “What about the phone in your car?
Maybe we can call Nancy and see if Tory has returned.”

“I already tried that but can’t get any reception.
When we get out of this valley, I’ll try again.” He whirled and headed for his Jeep Cherokee, the truck door squealing with cold as Tia hurried to make breakfast.

Thirty
minutes later, Jon stood in front of the wolf who peered sideward at him with narrow yellow eyes, his long tail swishing the edge of the cot.

“I don’t know,” muttered Jon, eyeing the wolf skeptically.
“He seems to want to follow you and I’m afraid if we leave him here, he’ll try to track us and break open his wound.”

Tia crossed her arms and thought for a moment.

“Sugar views me as the leader of the pack and won’t abandon me, so I guess there’s no choice but to take him with us.”

“Okay,” Jon agreed, “but it’ll be risky.”

“It’s just a chance we’ll have to take,” responded Tia.
“I know Sugar; he’ll try to find me if we leave. Could we make a bed of sorts in the back of your Jeep? Hopefully he’ll have enough sense to remain there and not fight the confines of the car.”

“Alright,” said Jon, “but I don’t want to move him anywhere without
a muzzle. Would that be okay with you?”

Tia nodded solemnly, knowing
how dangerous a bite a wolf can inflict. They made two trips to the black Cherokee, carrying blankets and a first aid kit in case the Jeep died in the middle of nowhere. Jon placed his long hunting rifle on the passenger seat with an extra pack of bullets and Tia was amazed at how much more secure it made her feel.

Jon plucked several leather muzzles from the me
tal trunk in his tent. “We keep muzzles here,” he explained, “since we plan to use Eskimo Dogs who are often half-wild when we head for the tundra at the end of the month.”

Sugar reared his shaggy head weakly, but allowed Jon to tighten the mouth piece.
Even feeling safe from the wolf’s sharp jaws, the going was tough, the snow nearly tripping them several times as they carried the heavy wolf to the Jeep’s rear compartment. Tia spread out several of the green blankets and they laid the weak loafer there, panting as if they’d run a marathon. Jon returned to zip up the tents and kicked snow over the fire that had never really taken. He flung a large green backpack into the backseat and gunned the engine. The Jeep’s engine turned over without a hitch and pulling forward, he managed enough traction to maneuver the 4x4 squarely onto the rough road. Tia climbed in.

“Are you ready?” he asked

“Ready,” she responded.

He hesitated for moment, his hand upon the gea
rshift, before turning to her. “I just wanted you to know,” he began awkwardly, and suddenly it struck Tia like a bolt of lightning that Jon Simons was very shy. He cleared his throat. “I wanted you to know Tia that I would never harm you in any way and if it boiled right down to it...” he hesitated once again, obviously lost for words until Tia tenderly smiled at him.

And miracle of miracles h
e smiled back, the smile expanding until it reached his eyes. How had she ever thought him rough and unattractive? She slowly removed her left glove and placed a warm hand upon his cheek.

“I know you’ll
never hurt me,” she said, “and I have never felt safer than I do at this moment.”

Tia leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers.
Jon abruptly grabbed her, giving her a deep passionate kiss. When he finally broke off the embrace, Jon leaned back and stared at her, a half-grin tugging at his lips.

“Remind me to start each day with one of those.”

“I will,” whispered Tia, replacing her glove while he gunned the engine once.

“This might be a bit rough,” he warned. “I’ve got to get enough momentum to make it up the hill.” He patted the dashboard of the black Jeep.
“C’mon girl,” and with that the wheels spun forcefully as the 4x4 lurched up the snow-covered road, jolting over rocks hidden beneath the white blanket before it claimed the narrow upper road. Sugar whined in the back and Tia spoke reassuringly to him.

“Now let’s go fin
d that ex-fiancé of yours. He’s obviously more of an idiot than I originally thought.”

Tia couldn’t help
but grin as the Jeep churned up the snow, Jon expertly turning the vehicle toward her cabin.

The roads were positively horrible as they chugged along at a snail’s pace, the snow piled into high drifts all along the road.
Even though the track remained relatively clear, a foot of packed snow made the road slick and icy. The Jeep Cherokee often slid but the chains enabled them to maintain a slow pace. Jon skillfully maneuvered the dangerous road for nearly forty minutes, sometimes only sliding along at 7 to 8 miles an hour, as he battled the drifts and ice during those five long miles. Four times they had to alight in the bitter cold and take the two small portable shovels to dig the vehicle out. The last time Jon placed his shoulder against the Jeep as Tia urged the 4x4 forward, skidding over a large drift as the snow shot back at Jon, completely covering his snow pants and parka. He grinned ruefully at her before brushing himself off and climbing back into the driver’s seat.

“There
’s no way we could have made it all the way to Timberline,” declared Jon, glancing grimly at her. “The road’s just too bad.”

The large
, carved wooden owl barely protruded above the snow line at Tia’s driveway. Jon skidded the large vehicle to a stop.

“Thank God you had the fo
resight to place the bird there. I would have driven right past your road even though it’s full daylight. Well, the choice is yours, should we go to your cabin first or find the Ford?”

“The Ford.
It’s not more than a quarter of a mile from here and I remember there’s a large cottonwood hanging over the edge of the road since we won’t be able to see the skid marks in this snow.”

Jon inched along, ey
eing the odometer as Tia watched for the cottonwood.

“There it is!” exclaimed Tia, bolting out of the Cherokee’s door into the thigh-
deep snow before Jon could stop her. The cold hit her with an icy blast.

She heard a high whine and Jon soothed the wolf before joining her, the creature having behaved adm
irably during the entire excursion. He held the rifle casually in his right hand, his face a mask as they edged toward the embankment. Tia gestured to where the bright sun glinted off metal, her breath puffing up the cold air. There was little choice but to slide down the hill and quickly they banged up against the icy exterior of the car.

“You weren’t kidding about the shots,” state
d Jon, pointing at the shattered rear windshield where a large round hole with an incredible series of large cracks formed a bizarre spider-web pattern. “Whoever fired this gunshot wanted the driver dead; it’s dead center to where he’d have been sitting.”

The driver’s door was stiff and unyielding, but Jon finally managed to pry it open.
Glass was scattered over the vinyl seat and a spread-out map lay haphazardly upon the floor, partially covering a metal thermos wedged under the seat. Jon peered into the back cubby area behind the seat and pulled out a greasy maroon bag. Jon tossed it back after realizing it contained only an assortment of tools.

“There’
s no blood, thank God. We can only hope your fiancé managed to escape.”

“He’s not my fiancé,” retorted Tia.
Jon ignored her, but not before she witnessed the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

He moved to the tr
uck bed. “If Tory’s snowmobile was stowed in the back, it would have landed away from the truck upon impact. Why don’t you search over there while I check out this stand of spruce?”

After five minutes
they gave up. The snowmobile might be hidden under a snow drift but it crossed Tia’s mind that Tory may never have caught up with Paul and fearing the approaching storm, headed home.

“Let’s
climb back up to the car and see if Paul or Tory somehow made it your cabin.”

Reaching the road
took over twenty minutes. For every foot Tia placed in front of her, she slid back two. By the time she and Jon had scaled the road they were both gasping for breath. At least the exertion warmed her.

Sugar whined in greeting as Jon started th
e engine. Within minutes they’d returned to the owl marker and Jon carefully eased onto her gravel road.

“Look!” she cried hoarsely as the cabin came into view. Smoke spiraled out of the log cabin’s stone chimney.
“Paul and Tory are here!” Her hand dove for the door handle but Jon caught at her arm.

“Don’t Tia.
You’re only assuming it’s them. Let me go first.”

She paused for a long moment
, realizing his advice was probably sound. “Okay. I’ll tell you what. I’ll call to the house from behind the door and you can back me up with the rifle. Let’s just pray it’s Paul and Tory.”

Tia took a deep steadying breath and reached for the latch of the door, slowly swinging
the panel wide while keeping her body wedged safely behind.

“Tory!” she called out, “Tory and Paul are you there?”
Upon receiving no answer, she glanced back at Jon who shrugged. She slowly edged around the door and called out once again.

“Tory, Tory Leukowski
! Are you in there?”

Suddenly Tia heard a muffled shout from withi
n her cabin. “Run Tia, run! It’s a trap!”

A
crash sounded from inside the log cabin and a muffled oath rang out just as the entryway door hurtled open. A man she’d never laid eyes on before charged through the door like a bull moose. While not recognizing his features under the short sandy hair and bristling moustache, she could clearly recognize the heavy rifle in his hands. She whipped back and twisted away from the car as the vehicle’s front pane exploded.

“Mon Dieu you’re a brave one!” shouted a d
istinctly French-Canadian voice.

Another shot resounded and the sharp hiss of a punctured tire
, followed by an oath from Jon, propelled her away from the car. If a bullet hit the gas tank they
were history.

“Make for the shed Tia, for the shed!” Jon urged
, and Tia ran as fast as possible through the hip-deep snow, zigzagging in an effort to become less of a target.