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Fuck it.
Goddamn conscience.
With a frustrated sigh, Caleb trudged back to his truck, his steps loud in the night's stillness. “Dolly. You stay here.” He ruffled Dolly’s tattered ears, then retrieved his jacket and flashlight from the cab.
His inability to turn a blind eye to anyone in trouble was the reason he’d ended up as a Coast Guard in the first place, and even on dry land, he couldn’t shake the impulse to help. He clicked on his flashlight and jumped into the ditch that edged the road. It was easy to follow her trail. She’d crashed through the forest like a baby elephant, snapping twigs, churning snow and mud. The trail was erratic, veering left and right. Panic. The signs were far too familiar from his experience as a SEAL. Quarry running scared.
The question was, scared of what?
His flashlight danced across gnarled tree trunks and snow scattered with wizened pine needles. Elongated shadows rose and fell around him in pace with his step.
“Hello. Are you okay?” He raised his voice. “Hello?”
He waited for a response, the rise and fall of his breathing his only company. Nothing. She couldn’t have got far.
Caleb hiked for another ten minutes, calling out. He’d grown up in these woods, ran the trails on his bike and built forts among the trees with his brothers and sister. He knew them like the back of his hand but as he ventured deeper into the forest, the snow thinned and her trail grew fainter.
He scouted a small clearing where the needles were disturbed and hollered again. “Hello! I just want to know if you’re okay?”
A lone owl hooted from the branches above.
This was a waste of time. He’d lost her. He turned to head back, resigned.
A twig snapped behind him, and he spun, flashlight flickering across the faceless expanse of trees.
There, a glimmer of fabric caught his eye—a flash of yellow piping amidst the darkness.
He extinguished his flashlight, approaching cautiously. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
Silence. He pressed his lips together. She was out here. Listening to him, watching him. He could feel it.
“It’s barely twelve degrees, and it’s only going to get colder. If you’re planning on spending the night out here, I hope you’re prepared for hypothermia.”
He waited, counting his inhalations, gave it ten.
“Okay. Look, I’m heading back to my truck. If you need help, maybe I could give you a lift, but I won’t force a woman to do anything she’s not comfortable with.”
The strip of yellow piping remained motionless. It was all he could see of her, but he was unwilling to get closer, not wanting to spook her and lose her completely.
“Okay. Your rules. Whatever.” He turned and clicked his flashlight back on so he could track his path back to the road.
“Wait.”
He turned, and she was behind him, bundled up, her jacket zipped close to her throat, scarf obscuring her mouth, but her jeans looked thin and her boots were worn. The only warm-looking thing she wore was a pair of enormous yellow mittens that looked wonky and hand made. She must be fucking freezing.
“I…” Her voice was a whisper, her face drained of color, her eyes shining.
An ugly bruise marred her cheekbone, and there was blood on her forehead. Involuntarily, his fists flexed in his gloves, making the leather creak. Fury at the thought of someone laying a hand on her coursed through his veins like wildfire.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” He kept his hands relaxed at his side to show he was not a threat.
Her lips parted to answer. Luscious lips, blood red in the snowy night.
Gunshot ruptured the air.
Caleb’s hand instinctively went to his hip, before remembering his gun was no longer there. Old habits died hard.
The woman’s gasp puffed as she bolted, vanishing into the dense forest like a wraith.
