Mac doubled back. Bareheaded, his blond hair was soaked, but he didn’t even look cold. “Hey, where’s Lee?”

“He was behind me.” Shivering harder, Hannah scanned the trail behind them. When had she seen him last?

“Shit.” Grant turned and hurried back down the path, Hannah and Mac close behind. “Where is he?”

The trail was empty.

Fear blasted Hannah with a surge of energy. Jogging next to Grant, she cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Lee!”

“He was behind you. Didn’t you notice that he disappeared?” Grant asked.

“I couldn’t hear anything over the rain.” But it was her fault. She should have been watching out for him. But she’d been so obsessed with keeping up with Grant, she’d forgotten about Lee. “Damn it.”

Twenty minutes later, Mac came to a sudden stop. He pointed down the trail. “I see him.”

In a shallow trailside ditch, Lee’s bright blue jacket stood out among the brown autumn colors.

The path dropped off sharply for a few feet. Lee sat in a six-inch puddle of muddy runoff. Grant jumped down to land next to his brother with a splash. Hannah and Mac scrambled down the embankment.

“What happened?” Grant squatted next to Lee.

“I slipped. T-twisted my ankle.” Lee’s teeth chattered. His lips were blue. He’d been sitting in a cold puddle of water for at least forty minutes.

“Let’s get you out of the water.” Grant lifted him from the ditch.

Lee groaned, and his face went paper-white.

Grant set him on the ground. “We need a fire.”

“I’ll find some dry wood.” Mac scampered off into the woods.

“I’m going to take off your boot.” Grant loosened the laces. “Ready?”

Lee nodded, his eyes shining with moisture.

“One, two, three.” Grant slid the boot off. A moan escaped from Lee’s lips.

Hannah stared. Lee’s ankle was more than twisted. It was bent at a sharp angle—sideways.

“Shit.” Grant stood and rocked back on his heels.

“I’m sorry,” Lee said.

“Not your fault,” Hannah said. It was hers.

Mac came back with an armload of dry shrubbery. Hannah cleared a place for him to build a fire.

“We’re going to splint your ankle and call Dad.” Grant opened his pack and pulled out his first-aid kit. “Hannah, I need a straight stick about six inches long.”

“On it.” Hannah rooted through Mac’s pile of twigs and found one with the right diameter. She pulled the folded knife from her cargo pocket and sawed the stick to the correct length, then passed it over.

Grant handed Mac the map. “Find the closest possible pickup location.”