Irresponsible.

Reckless.

Rash.

He was going to lecture her until he ran out of words and breath. Then he’d start all over the next day.

Cleetus picked his way carefully up the trailhead, and Brick found himself in a winter wonderland. The trees were covered in fresh powder. There were no tracks here. Either she’d veered off the trail or the wind had erased her tracks. He couldn’t hear anything besides the creak of his saddle, the steady plod of Cleetus’s hooves.

For once, he wished he was on a machine, flying over the snow to get to her. Of course, he no longer had a snowmobile, thanks to her and his irresponsible, reckless, rash brother… He’d yell at her about that, too, as soon as he found her.

His heart skipped a beat when he spotted them. Tracks here. Faint ones. Parallel lines. But no sign of Ben’s prints. He radioed the find back to the chief and pressed on.

“Remi!” he called. His voice rang out harshly in the wild. “Ben!”

There was no answer. He tried her phone again with the same result.

He needed to hold on to his anger to keep the fear at bay.

She hadn’t called him. Just like she said she wouldn’t. Brick hadn’t believed it. Not really. He was who she always called. He was the one who always fixed it.

The idea that he’d lost that place in her life was…crushing.

This was exactly what he’d thought he wanted. Well, not the missing in the fucking woods in the dead of winter part. But he’d assumed his life would be so much easier if Remington Ford didn’t need him anymore. He just hadn’t realized what not being needed would do to him.

“Remi!” he shouted again, the cold air biting at his throat.

Cold and exertion were bad for asthma. She better have at least thought to take her inhaler with her.

He urged Cleetus to pick up the pace as the trail opened up again. The tracks were still intact here. He noted an indentation on the side of the trail. Like someone had fallen or sat down. The tracks paused there, then started again.

“Come on, buddy,” he said to the horse. “We’re getting close, aren’t we?”

The horse’s ears perked up.

Brick listened for a minute, then called again.

There was nothing but silence, so he pressed on. Nothing but snow and trees and rocks spreading out before him. “Remington!” he bellowed.

He almost didn’t hear it. Almost missed it. But it caught his ear, and Cleetus shuddered under him.

“Help!”

It was so faint, he couldn’t tell if it was Ben or Remi.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Remi? I’m coming!”

This time, the cry was a little louder. He kicked Cleetus into a jog and followed the tracks. He spotted her turn off the trail into the woods and urged his mount to follow.

“Ben! Remi!”

“Down here,” came the reedy cry.

He maneuvered around an outcropping of rocks, and that’s when he spotted the mangled snowmobile on its side. Half of one ski was embedded straight up in the snow. His heart nearly stopped then. That bright splash of yellow against the sea of white.