Chapter 10

Logan

I sweep my flashlight back and forth, and this thing is so powerful it picks up an amazing radius from the forest floor to halfway up the trees. The sun has just set, and given the thick canopy above, the temperature is dropping fast. I look at my GPS unit and note with a grimace that the temperature has fallen to forty-five degrees.

My walkie-talkie crackles at my waist and I pull it up to my mouth, hitting the button to listen. “We’ve covered the entire east ridge, Logan. We’re going to head your way.”

“Okay,” I mutter into the unit before clipping it back on my belt.

When April came into the station over five hours ago, panicked she’d lost Valentine in the woods, I had a moment where I thought I might puke. An experienced hiker with the essential equipment could be in grave danger if they got lost. Valentine in nothing but her clothes could mean death if she wasn’t found. I was able to quickly round up a group of seven to start combing the woods, but the forest that rose above East Merritt was thousands of acres and someone could get lost in just the blink of an eye. At that point, it turns into trying to find the needle in the haystack, particularly if Valentine’s still moving. If she was smart enough to just sit still, we’d have a better chance of finding her, but knowing that woman, she was probably stomping around the woods looking for that damn dog of hers.

Which, ironically, came back on its own about an hour after its journey into the woods smelling of skunk.

I keep sweeping my flashlight back and forth, calling out Valentine’s name. It’s the same routine I’ve been doing for hours as I’ve zigzagged up and down the slope in sharp angles so I don’t miss her.

“Valentine,” I call out, my throat getting raspier and raspier. On a lower tone that only I can hear, “Come on, honey…where in the fuck are you?”

“Over here.” I hear a faint call and stop dead in my tracks listening hard.

“Valentine? Call out to me again,” I yell.

“I’m here,” she calls back, sounding stronger this time, and I can tell it’s coming from just west of me.

“I need you to keep calling out,” I instruct her. “I’ll head toward you but you don’t move.”

“Okay,” she calls back, and then she proceeds to give me a monologue. I can tell she’s cold because her words are stuttering. “I’m really s-s-s-s-orry. S-s-s-s-oooo stupid to get l-l-l-os-s-s-t.”

I smile to myself and can tell I’m getting closer to her.

“I’m n-n-n-e-v-er stepping f-f-f-f-oot in the woods again,” she says, and my flashlight catches a glimpse of white.

Swinging it back, I see Valentine huddled against the base of a tree, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around her shins. Her face is as pale as the moonlight when my flashlight stops on her and she squints at me.

I aim the light downward as I walk up to her and then drop to my knees by her side.

“There you are, silly,” I say lightly.

She gives a slight, stuttering laugh but I can hear a sob in the back of her throat ready to tear free. I put my index and middle finger against her carotid to judge the strength of her pulse and the temperature of her skin. She’s definitely cold but her pulse is strong. I’m guessing she hasn’t been sitting here long.

“Come on…up you go.” I help her up with my hands under her armpits as I stand. She sways slightly but otherwise holds her own while I shed my heavy jacket, another one made of sheepskin. I get it on her, pulling up the hood to cover her head before zipping it up. The sleeves hang down long past her hands.

I glance at my GPS unit and note I’m only about three-quarters of a mile from the base of the mountain where I left my truck. I pull my walkie-talkie from my hip, depress the button, and tell the search party members, who are all tuned in to the same channel, “I’ve found her. She’s in really good shape. Taking her down now. You all can pack up and head home.”

I get several proclamations of relief as Valentine just stands there quietly. I clip my walkie-talkie back onto my belt and ask her, “You okay to walk?”

She nods her head, but it looks like a light wind would blow her over. I take her arm and, tucking it into mine, help her carefully navigate down the slope while I let the flashlight guide our way. She doesn’t stumble once, but I have such a tight hold on her I wouldn’t let her go down if she did.

Valentine doesn’t speak a word and neither do I. I want her to conserve what little energy she has left.

When we finally break free of the woods and she sees my truck parked on the other side of the road, she whines slightly from relief and it makes me smile. But then she catches me off guard when a sob tears out of her throat and her legs start to buckle.

I swing her up into my arms and she buries her face in my neck. Her skin feels like ice and she’s trembling all over.

“Shhhh,” I try to console her. “You’re safe now.”

She doesn’t say anything but continues to tremble, and then I feel the warmth of her tears on my neck. “Valentine…it’s over. You’re safe.”

And still I get nothing but silent tears as I walk her to my truck.

I open the passenger door with one hand, still supporting her weight with my other arm. It takes nothing to slide her into the seat and her head immediately bows low so her hair falls forward to hide her face. I push it back, hooking it behind her ear so I can see her. Her cheeks are wet as she stares at her lap, refusing to look at me.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Sassy came back on her own. She’s safe and sound with Sarah, although she got doused by a skunk. But Sarah’s going to have her all cleaned up.”

And still she remains quiet.

“Valentine…talk to me,” I encourage her. “What’s wrong?”

Finally she lifts her face and turns to look at me, her eyes filling with tears again. “I actually thought I was going to die. The last few hours…I knew I was just wandering around in circles and it was getting so cold, and I never thought anyone would find me. I’ve never been more scared in my life.”

“I imagine it was terrifying for you,” I tell her as I take one of her hands in mine. It’s still cold as ice. “But you’re safe and sound, and tomorrow we’ll talk about it like it was a big adventure.”

And there.

Right there.

I get a tiny smile.

“All right, we need to get you warmed up,” I say as I release her hand. I don’t bother telling her to buckle up as we’re not going far, and I know she’s stiff with cold. So I close the door, round the truck, and get in, cranking the heat high once I turn on the ignition.

I follow the road down for about two miles, which is north of East Merritt, and turn right into a gravel driveway.

“Where are we going?” Valentine murmurs.

“My house,” I tell her.

“No,” she protests. “You’ve done enough for me already. I’ll be fine if you take me back to Sarah’s.”

“Valentine, listen to me,” I tell her firmly. “You need to get warmed up, and the best way is a hot bath. I happen to know that bathroom you share with the other boarders only has a tiny shower. You also need hot food, and I have that. Sarah won’t and you’re in no condition to go to The Wounded Caribou. So you’re going to my house and that’s that.”

As I drive down my driveway to the small log cabin I’d had built when I moved here, Valentine doesn’t say anything. But when I pull up to the front and kill the engine, she turns to me and says, “You saved my life, Logan. There’s no way I could ever thank you enough.”

“How about you promise me you won’t go off into the woods again and we’ll call it even,” I suggest to her teasingly.

The truck interior is dark and the light from my porch doesn’t extend out far enough, but I’d like to think I got a smile out of her. Her tone is light when she says, “I promise. No more sojourns into the woods.”

It’s weird having Valentine sit at my kitchen table, eating chili I’d made yesterday and reheated in the microwave for her. She looks completely swamped in a pair of my sweatpants and an old Seattle PD T-shirt I’d pulled out for her to wear after her bath. But I’m happy to see there’s color in her face and the more she eats, the steadier she looks.

When she’s finished, she pushes the bowl away and looks at me across the table as she wraps her arms around herself. “I know it’s psychological, but I can’t seem to get warm. Which is silly, I know. That bath was great, the clothes are warm, you’ve got the heat cranked up in here.”

I nod in understanding. “It’s no joking matter when your body temp drops. It shocks your entire system. But I guarantee you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Valentine scrunches up her face. “I’m not looking forward to tomorrow at all.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, in just a matter of two days, I’ve managed to make a drunken fool of myself whereby you had to throw me in jail, and then I managed to get lost in the woods causing a massive manhunt that cost God knows how much in taxpayers’ dollars. I honestly wish a bear had eaten me tonight.”

I laugh, not at her, but at her silly statement. “Honey, you’ll be the talk of the town for sure, but no one’s going to think badly of you for any of it. I know I certainly don’t.”

She cocks at eyebrow at me. “I was dirty dancing in an obscene dress and I punched an East Merritt resident. I’m a menace to your society.”

“You’re fucking adorable that you think that,” I say with a chuckle.

She yawns in return.

“You’re exhausted,” I say, and she nods in agreement. “So I’m going to propose you stay here tonight. You can have my bed, get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll even cook you breakfast in the morning before I take you back to Sarah’s.”

“I couldn’t impose,” she says sluggishly, and then punctuates it with another yawn as she continues to hug herself for warmth.

I don’t even argue with her. I merely stand from the table, walk to where she’s sitting, and pull her up by her shoulders. I then take her hand and lead her back to my bedroom, but as we pass by the bathroom she asks, “Don’t suppose you have an extra toothbrush, do you?”

“Yeah, I sure do,” I tell her. I step in, grab the extra one out of the small pantry, and hand it to her. “Toothpaste is in that drawer. Help yourself to anything else.”

I step out of the bathroom to give her privacy and head into my bedroom, making sure all of my dirty underwear is picked up and in the laundry basket. I never make my bed so I take a moment to at least straighten the sheets and heavy comforter, and I can’t seem to help myself, I fluff the fucking pillows for her too.

When I turn toward the door to get an extra blanket from the hall closet, I find her standing in the doorway watching me with a smile. “I really feel like an imposition.”

“Shut up and get in bed,” I tell her with a smile. “I’m going to get you an extra blanket.”

By the time I get back into the bedroom, Valentine is burrowed into my bed with the comforter pulled up to her chin. I throw the other blanket over the top of her and she wiggles her body a little, burrowing a bit further.

“All good?” I ask her.

“Still cold,” she grumbles. “Shouldn’t I be warm by now?”

I bend over and touch my hand to her forehead to see if she has a fever, but she doesn’t, so I just assume her body temperature’s taking some time to regulate.

“Tell you what,” I say as I sit on the edge of the bed and undo the laces to my boots. After I toe them off, I say, “I swear this is in no way a come-on, but I’m going to lie in bed with you until you fall asleep and give you some body heat, okay?”

She nods with bright eyes, eager for nothing but the promise of an extra layer of warmth. I also suspect she’s still coming down off a tremendous scare and feeling vulnerable and needy right now, which is totally understandable. City girl getting lost in the woods like that would totally scare the shit out of most people.

I turn off the bedside lamp and crawl over the top of Valentine and lie down on the opposite side of her, but I don’t get under the covers. Instead I tell her, “Turn on your side.”

She does and I spoon my body up against her tiny one huddled under two thick layers of blankets, wrapping my arm around her. I can actually still feel her trembling slightly, but she lets out a tiny sigh of relief and pushes her body back closer into mine.

“Thank you, Logan,” she says softly, her voice frail and fatigued.

“You’re welcome,” I tell her, giving her a slight squeeze. “Now go to sleep.”

Valentine yawns again, sighs deeply, and then falls right to sleep.