Timberline Trail (9 page)

“We’ll go this way,” stated Tia, shouldering the snow shovel and pushing her way past the two men.

At the shed she turned left, slogging hip-deep in the slushy snow. She heard Steve exclaim as the cold snow intruded his low boots. Tia set a brisk pace, breaking trail for the two men, as she headed up her gravel drive that lead to the main road. Ten minutes later she stood where the road leveled out. While simply a wide gravel road, it was adequate in good weather and tolerable in rough.

“My Kia is this way,” motioned Steve.

He’
d parked off the road under a wide overhanging white spruce. In fact, if he hadn’t known exactly where the 4x4 was located, Tia would’ve missed the small mountain vehicle where it sat nearly hidden from the road and she pondered why he’d pulled it so far off the road. Steve struggled to open the driver’s door in the waist-high snow. At least the spruce had sheltered the Kia somewhat, and by digging out the snow around the driver’s door with her shovel, Tia enabled him to force open the car door.

“I’ll try to get the engine to turn over!” shouted Steve, his breath emitting small vapor clouds.

Jon waited
off to one side, watching Steve’s every move. The engine ground and then nearly took before coughing and dying. Steve tried it at least four times more, but each time the engine sounded less likely to turn over.

“Your battery probably needs a jump,” stated Jon. “You both wait here and I’ll get my Jeep and give you a boost.”

“I’ll go with you.” said Tia, suspecting she’d have to dig out his Jeep from where it was parked near her Blazer.

Steve straightened and glared at the two of them.
“I’ll come along as well,” he said forcefully.

Jon snap
ped. “There’s no reason to; we’ll be back as soon as possible! You stay here.”

Within minutes Tia
helped Jon shovel the black Jeep Cherokee out until he finally managed to slide inside the driver’s seat. Jon turned the key in the ignition and gunned the motor. As the engine burst into life Tia felt a large wave of relief pass over her. Soon, one way or another, both men would be on their way.

“Hop in,” said Jon. “I have snow tires and we shouldn’t have any problem getting back to Steve.”

Tia reluctantly threw her shovel into the back of the vehicle and watched him expertly maneuver his way past a snowdrift and lurch onto the main road.

“I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t seeking information on your dad
, Tia. If I wanted to know something about him, I’d ask you.”

“Then wh
y did you go through my files?” questioned Tia between clenched teeth. “Trying to steal ideas for a kid’s book?” she asked mockingly.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I have a suggestion for you.
If you have a lock on your cabin door and can coax that wolf into staying with you, I’d feel a lot more secure about your being out here by yourself. Take care of your own safety Tia. There’s lots of other dangerous creatures besides bears and wolves.”

Rattled
, Tia retorted, “I’ve managed just fine up until now. And besides, my ex-fiancé will be arriving any minute.”

Jon’s lips formed a tight line as he tore his dark green eyes from her. Strangely he didn’t protest any further as Steve’s green Kia loomed in front of them.
The front hood already stood open and an obviously chilled Steve waited with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his thin parka. Jon quickly propped open the hood, and taking out some heavy duty jumper cables, attached them to his and Steve’s battery points.

“Get into your car,” he ordered and waited until the blond
e man obeyed. “Tia, when you hear Steve trying to turn over his engine give it some juice.”

Steve pressed his foot on the accelerator and the motor groaned before stalling again.

“Once more!” shouted Jon, after fiddling under the hood, and this time the engine coughed and finally took, spewing exhaust out of the Kia’s tailpipe.

“Maybe you want me to follow you into Timbe
rline?” asked Jon mildly, but Steve shook his head.

“I’m going to let the engine run for awhile to r
echarge before I head back.”

“Steve, at least let Jon follow you to
where the paving begins at Highway 7. I’m sure the snow plows have already been out since it’s nearly 10:30, but if you get stuck he can pull you out.”

Steve struggled for a long moment before agre
eing reluctantly, clearly wanting to be rid of Jon as much as Tia. Placing their shoulders to the back of the small 4x4, Jon and Tia helped push the Kia away from the snow-encrusted berm as the small Sorento slid onto the road, its muffler smoking.

“Well I guess this is goodbye then,” said Steve
, climbing out of the 4x4 and taking Tia’s gloved hand. “And I repeat; those were some of the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever tasted. Maybe if I find some property around here, I could stop by for another batch sometime?” Tia nodded shyly, suddenly embarrassed by his warm tone.

“Come on,” muttered Jon
, wanting to tear Steve’s manicured hand away from Tia’s.

“I’ve got to get back to what remains of my camp.”

Steve touched her cheek with a soft touch and then positioned himself once again behind the wheel. Tia could see him adjusting the heater before slowly turning onto the road as he headed west. The gravel road ran for a full two miles before intersecting Highway 7. He raised a hand in front of the rearview mirror and waved, his car sliding a bit as he moved up the road at ten miles per hour. Jon followed, his Jeep obviously more accustomed to the snowy weather and rough terrain. He didn’t bother to wave and Tia watched until both 4x4’s disappeared, suddenly feeling more relieved than she cared to admit.

Tia waited until she could no longer hear either of their engines, then grabbed her snow shovel and hu
rried down the road until she reached her driveway which was marked with a huge carved brown owl to indicate where the driveway began. Her father had placed the two-foot high owl upon a thick pine stump a full four feet above the road to help guide the wary traveler home during the dark winter, and the statue had often proved a fortunate beacon during snowy conditions.

As Tia cautiously slid down the gradual slope t
oward her cabin she whistled for Sugar.

Unfortunately the large wolf had vanished, disa
ppearing into the forest to forage for food. No blood droplets stained the white layer of snow where the wolf had trotted off, so Tia could only hope the wolf was alright. The resiliency of animals always amazed her and she prayed her amateur surgery had been enough to guarantee the wolf’s survival. Tia returned to her snug cabin, feeling disconcerted and annoyed at the same time. She remembered Jon’s suggestion about securing the door and Tia reluctantly complied, never once having locked her door the entire time she’d resided here. Ten minutes later, while sipping some hot chocolate, she sadly gazed at her father’s photo on the mantelpiece. It had been taken at Newport Beach and his arm draped casually over her shoulders as his curly gray hair blew in the ocean breeze. His face appeared young and vital, his embrace indicating the strong affection he’d always felt for her.

“Oh daddy,” Tia said helplessly.
“How I wish you were here.”

Tia fully expected Paul Dale to show up at any time, and when he hadn’t arrived within an hour she began to get concerned.
She donned her coat, cap and gloves once again after a small snack of toasted bread with peanut butter and headed out to look for him, hoping to spot her wolf Sugar as well. The snow was melting quickly, making the soggy surface slippery and treacherous, so Tia stuck to the path she and her visitors had forged earlier.

A Gray Jay called from atop a large
lodge pole pine, silhouetted against the brilliant turquoise sky. With the temperature a balmy forty-five degrees Tia unzipped her jacket, enjoying the coolness the slight breeze afforded. She waited upon the slushy road for a full thirty minutes before finally returning to her cabin. She adjusted the short-wave to Nancy’s frequency and was surprised to hear Roy’s deep voice on the other end the line.

“Yeah Tia, this is
Roy,” he said needlessly in his methodical way. “Tory hasn’t returned yet, but he called and said the road was plowed almost past Walter’s Creek, the traffic following the plow. You can expect that Paul fellow once they finish clearing the road by your turnoff. I’m helping Nancy out because a bunch of city dudes just checked in about an hour ago and Gerald has to fix one of the ovens in the kitchen. Apparently they flew in by helicopter from Juneau this morning. Gotta be about eight of them.”

“Shopping for real estate?”
joked Tia. Of course, Roy took her literally.

“Na
h, I don’t think so; they look kind of official-like in their dark suits and everything. Kinda like IRS agents or cops or something. Anyway, I know they’re arranged to see Jayce after lunch.”

Tia wondered who they were, positive they’d e
nliven the poor sheriff’s dull life up a bit.

“Look
Roy, I wanted to tell you I’ve sent off my two visitors and you should expect Steve Newcastle back at the hotel sometime this afternoon depending on road conditions. He’s driving the Kia you rented him and maybe you should exchange his vehicle since he’s having mechanical problems. Jon Simons, the photographer, is headed back to his camp near Bear Valley, about five miles from my place. I’ll give you a buzz if Paul doesn’t show up in a couple of hours.”

“
He’s also driving one of my rental trucks. I sent him in a white Ford F-150 half-ton pickup. It’s a great piece of machinery—thought that city boy might need some good wheels. Remember Tia, anytime you’re in town I’ll buy you that cup of coffee I promised, along with a piece of Nancy’s blackberry pie. I sure look forward to seeing you.”

Tia smiled to herself.
She had to hand it to Roy; he certainly didn’t give up. Tia waited for another full hour before again donning her gear and lacing up her boots. The temperature was now a comfortable fifty degrees, the snow melting so rapidly tiny rivulets caused her driveway to resemble a mini glacier with all its deep water canals. Her jeans turned soggy and heavy by the time she made it to the road, which had turned into one big river of slushy melting snow. A warbler sang at the top of its lungs from the dense underbrush and when Tia peered up into the blue sky, a golden eagle soared high overhead.

After fifteen minutes of waiting by the hand-carved barn owl by her driveway,
Tia decided to head up the road toward the main highway. She used the muddied tire tracks left by Jon and Steve as a trail and set out in a brisk pace, glad for the exercise. After ten minutes a sharp crack and the thrashing of underbrush to her right caused her to start. Here the road curved and on the right hand side of the embankment the cliff plunged abruptly downward.

Something bright glinted off the melting snow and Tia shaded her eyes, squinting against the glare.
The reflection from a car’s window momentarily blinded her, and panic-stricken she bounded to the edge of the road and peered over the steep side. The silver chrome of the white pickup truck glittered against the snow. Tia recognized from the crazily directed tire tracks that the vehicle had blown a tire. As far as she could tell the pickup had progressed in a straight fashion before suddenly taking an abrupt turn and plunging over the embankment.

“Hello!” she shouted frantically, but no response drifted up from the vehicle wedged against th
e trunk of a massive cottonwood some fifty feet down. Without hesitation Tia bounded over the embankment, sliding in the wet snow as she hurtled downward toward the Ford pickup. Tia recognized it as one of the rentals Roy kept at his service station. He kept four vehicles which were mostly used as loaners when someone’s Jeep or truck was in the shop to be repaired, though he did on occasion rent to tourists. Through its front windshield she could discern the circular sticker with a bald eagle logo and the words Timberline Garage printed underneath.

Her heart pounding furiously, Tia slid to a violent stop, slamming into the dented passenger door.
Panic-stricken she checked the interior, immediately relieved no one remained trapped inside. The driver’s door stood completely ajar, the back windshield shattered as if a large rock had hurtled through it. Tia edged around the back of the battered truck, holding onto the bed to steady herself in the slippery snow. Before she made it to the driver’s door the front windshield burst into a thousand pieces, a gunshot’s retort reverberating through the trees. Tia instinctively covered her face and threw herself onto the snow-covered ground. Another bullet zinged into the rough gray bark of the cottonwood, tearing off a low branch still covered in heart-shaped leaves.

“Stop!
There’s someone here! Stop your shooting!” screamed Tia, oblivious to the fact that she could be the intended target.

When the next bullet ricocheted not two feet from her head, Tia bolted, using the truck as a shield.
The shooter fired from behind her as Tia frantically plunged away from the car, sliding and careening wildly in the opposite direction of the gunshots. The low shrubbery and trees caught at her long blonde braid as she haphazardly darted between lodge pole pines and the Alpine firs. A gigantic cottonwood, its trunk at least four feet in diameter, forced her to veer sharply left. Within 90 seconds she had descended 150 feet to the valley floor and now scrambled directly northeast, moving away from the safety of her own cabin.