She was scanning the horizon, the great rise of mountains on the other side gray-black, with steep washes of snow and glacier. At the base, pine covered walls all the way down to the vast whiteness of the lake. It fell to a V at the southern end, where it formed into a white-capped, lethal river.

And—her breath caught.

In the hills beyond the lake, spiraling into the sky, just barely, was a wisp of smoke.

She pulled out her monocular from her pack and tried to find the source. Hidden, but surely there.

Or maybe not. Because the smoke seemed to have vanished into the blue of the sky.

Maybe she’d imagined it.

She took off her gloves and ran a hand along her brow, pushing back her hat.

If she crossed the lake, she knew the Cache cabins lay on the other side. It would mean climbing the pass, crossing the ridgeline, and then somehow keeping the sled from tumbling down the other side. But there, at Cache, she’d find help. Six or so miles away.

Hopefully. Please.

Or she could go south, along the lake, three, maybe more miles to the imaginary wisp of smoke.

From his position, Granite walked over to her, licked her face. She sat down in the snow, put her arms around him, and buried her face in his fur.

“I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know.”

“The Lord himself watches over you.”

Barry’s words settled into her head, and she sat back in the snow, looking heavenward.

The dogs were breathing hard. Her father was silent, unconscious.

“Please. God. Tell me what to do.”

Silence. But inside it, the sound came to her like a pulse, a beating of her heart, then louder, a deep rhythm that shook the hills and shivered the pine trees around her, until it turned deafening.

And then it washed over her, a thunder that swept out her breath.

A deep-blue chopper, flying low and fast over the trees.

Heading for a destination at the south of the lake.

“Hey! Hey!” She wrestled herself to her feet and stumbled out of the cover of the woods, waving her arms. But the chopper was long past by her. It swept down, around the horizon.

She stood, stuck in the grip of snow up to her knees, watching help vanish.

Then it turned around.

Her heart filled her throat as the chopper dipped and sped back in her direction. She waved her arms, watching it barrel toward her.

And there he was at the helm, flying like he might be going into battle. Dodge.

She kept waving, but it wasn’t necessary. As he grew closer, his expression was almost unnerving in its fierceness.

Had he been searching for her?

He put down near the shore of the lake, and she unhooked her sled. “Hike! Hike!”