She repeated the words to each of the dogs, then finally returned to the cabin. Holly was resting, emitting tiny whines even in slumber. Peyton still sat beside her, her hand on her neck, speaking in soft tones.

“The snow has socked in Copper Mountain, but they’re sending out a call to nearby FBOs. They’ll get someone out here.”

Echo nodded, took a breath. “I’m going to light a fire. That’ll alert the chopper and maybe make the bear think twice before returning. Let me know if her breathing changes.”

She went outside again, propped the gun on the porch, and headed over to the woodpile. A rustling in the woods caused her to jerk up, but it was just the wind, maybe.

Hauling the wood over to a place beyond the dogs, she piled the logs up, added tinder and kindling, and tromped back inside for the matches.

Peyton held the radio in her lap.

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s tough, like her mama.”

Echo offered a wan smile and headed back outside with the matchbox. The fire lit on the second match, and she cupped the flame as it took to the curled birch filaments, the flame sizzling as it bit and glowed.

It started to crackle, and she stood, looked at the heavens, at the spray of stars. Please. Certainly heaven had a soft place for animals like Holly.

Then she returned to the porch, retrieved her gun, and hunkered down in the snow, staring into the dark sky, her face like flint against the wind. Waiting. Guarding. Hoping for rescue.

And in her heart, she was lifting her own mournful song into the dark night.

four

He was grumpy, edgy and hungry, and probably not fit for human companionship. So clearly that’s why Dodge found himself sitting at the counter of Vic’s Midnight Sun Saloon, digging into a bowl of her delicious chicken pot pie—Monday’s dinner special.

He probably should have taken his father up on the dinner instead of going back to his cold cabin, void of any real sustenance. But dinner would have required him to sit down and venture into conversation.

A conversation that might meander into dangerous territory. Like the past, and maybe what Colt was up to these days, and then, inevitably they’d land on the Epic Family Fight, and suddenly the tenuous peace he’d tried to knit together would be in shreds.

He’d end up on the train south to Anchorage to continue the life he’d returned to Alaska for—flying choppers for Air One Rescue.

But then Larke would be angry at him, and in truth, he couldn’t let Sky King Ranch fall into bankruptcy. Even if it would never be his. There was a legacy here. A reputation.

He couldn’t be the one to let it die.