The air filled with the redolence of fuel, and the creosote smells of the rail yard not far away. Grimy piles of snow edged the runway, and the air held the brisk swill of the ocean, damp and clingy.

He should rent a car, drive them back the one hundred twenty miles to Copper Mountain, and let Deke know that they still had a missing woman on their hands. Except, Dodge hadn’t thought about bringing his wallet with him when he’d left on the snowmobile yesterday.

He called to Goose, crouched, and ran his hands down the dog’s body. “I think we’re going to run over to the hospital and check on our Jane Doe. Can you hang on to Goose for a while?” he asked Moose.

“Sure. I’ll have Grady keep an eye on him. Need a lift to the hospital?”

“That’d be great. But really, you don’t have an extra set of wheels around here, do you? I need to get back. Peyton Samson went missing.”

“Oh no.” He frowned. “Yeah. You can take one of the company pickups. You can return it when you start work.”

About that . . . “Moose—”

“I can’t tell you how excited the guys—and the ladies—are to have you aboard. We’ve been hearing about your escapades from your dad for years, and to have you choppering for Air One . . . it’s a real privilege, man.”

Dodge stared at him. His escapades? But it didn’t matter. “Actually, I was thinking of staying on at Sky King Ranch. At least for a while, or . . . maybe for good.” He hadn’t worked out all the kinks, but yes, those were the right words. “I’m taking over the flight service.”

A beat, and Moose blinked at him. And he couldn’t tell if it was surprise or disappointment or just shock. Then, “What are you talking about? I just got off the phone with my dad. He said that Sky King Ranch is up for sale.”

And now Dodge went silent. Surprise, disappointment, and shock.

“Yeah. In fact, I pulled up the listing. It’s such a nice spread, I really can’t believe your dad is letting it go. The lodge, the cabins . . . everything, although I have a hard time thinking he’ll get one point four mil for it, but I’m sure it’s worth it.”

A strange sound came out of Dodge, a sort of groan, a cough of confusion, and then, “What? One point four million dollars?”

“I’m sure it’s not in bales of hay.”

He stared at him. “No, that’s not . . . what is he thinking?”

And then his own voice sluiced through him. “There’s no destiny, Dad. . . . As soon as you’re able to take over, I’m out of here.”