“Good plan.” Understanding, Sarah lifted Tucker’s injured leg so Audrey could push the chair under it.

“Wouldn’t a clearing make tracking easier?”

“Thank you, ladies.” Tucker glanced at Audrey. “Not easier. See there were moose tracks and lots of Chevy and Niko’s tracks all over the place from them doing the butchering. Then you add in bear tracks, and you got a shitload of sign. The Chief was doing a wide circle to try to spot the boy’s tracks outside the mess.”

“The bear didn’t attack the child?” Sarah asked.

“Nope. MacNair showed us where the sow’s cubs caught up with her, and she lost interest in the chase.”

Thank God.

Tucker scowled. “Chevy was probably so stoked about getting a moose, he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. Stupid mistake. Now he’s gashed up, will lose the meat, and get a hefty fine. I just hope we can find his boy.”

“Yes.” Find the boy, Gabe. Please.

As a gust of wind blew icy cold rain in his face, Gabe circled the clear-cut where Chevy had butchered the moose. He hoped to pick up the child’s tracks and be able to narrow the search.

Everyone else was following the grid pattern he’d laid out.

No one had found anything. Dammit. Frustration gnawed at his nerves. Thank God, it was almost summer solstice, and they still had hours of daylight left. But a frightened boy could run far and fast. The kid was probably drenched and, with the temp in the low fifties, was headed for hypothermia.

What he wouldn’t give for level terrain and open forest. But, noooo. Instead, the old slash from the cleanup of spruce bark beetle kill made for unstable footing—and his hip was aching like hell. Low blueberry and crowberry shrubs dotted the area, interspersed with reed grass and fescue. None of it was good for reading sign.

He shrugged his raingear closer and kept moving, gaze on what was under his feet.

There. A scrape, almost blotted out by the tracks of another searcher. Someone had missed the kid’s footprints. Easy to do. Lightweight children didn’t leave as much sign as an adult.

He looked out farther. That patch of crushed grass could’ve been from an animal, but no, there was the curve of a shoe. The semi-circle was too narrow to be from a man’s footwear.

He spotted a handprint. Then a toe print. Wanting to ensure the sow lost sight of him, the boy had crawled through the low shrubs. Of course, the sow wouldn’t have any trouble finding the kid’s scent, but out of sight, out of mind never hurt. Smart kid.

Looked as if Niko had headed directly toward the closest edge of the forest, the place where shrubs gave way to spruce and hemlock.

“You got something?” Bull tossed him part of a granola bar.