Page 14 of Echoes of Twilight (Dawn of Alaska #4)

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T hey finally reached the snow line around noon the next day, though it didn’t do them much good. Even though the snowfall gradually lessened as they descended the mountain, it turned into a steady rain during the afternoon that soaked them more thoroughly than the two feet of snow they’d plodded through at the top.

Mikhail forced the team to trudge forward though, then pulled the brim of his hat farther over his face, and hunched his shoulders. He didn’t know how long he’d been carrying the front of the trunk for as they headed down the mountainside.

All he knew was that he couldn’t stop images of that first expedition ten years ago from swirling in his mind. Of Livy and the way she’d smiled at him, of the way she’d been so determined to return to Sitka. Of the way they’d survived a bear attack followed by a blizzard.

Of the way she’d looked in his arms after she’d frozen to death, her lips blue and her skin icy.

Of the way the babe growing inside her had died.

He tried to push the memories from his mind, but they clung to him. They’d made a promise, he and Livy, to see each other through the wilderness.

And he’d failed her.

So here he was, leading another expedition with another woman ten years later, hoping that this time, by some miracle, he had the skills needed to keep her safe.

“How much longer?”

Mikhail snapped his head toward the voice beside him, only to find Bryony there. They’d left the snow and had been trudging through the rain for hours at this point. Her hair was soaked despite the fur hood covering her head, and her cheeks were flushed from the biting cold, but her lips were nearly colorless. And were those small shivers racking her shoulders?

Thank heavens he had that extra parka, or she’d be frozen solid.

Still, he didn’t like how wet her boots looked, or her hair. She didn’t have the right hat to shield the front of her face from the rain while still being able to watch where she was going, and it appeared that the rain was running down her cheeks and neck beneath the parka, where it had likely soaked her skirt.

“We’ll find somewhere dry soon.” He didn’t care that it was still afternoon.

Part of him knew that Bryony wouldn’t become hypothermic while wearing a seal fur parka the way Livy had when she’d fallen into the river. But she still looked too cold and uncomfortable for his liking.

He glanced back to survey the rest of the group. Richard silently carried the back end of the trunk, his complaints more subdued after Heath almost died yesterday. Behind Richard, Bryony’s father and Dr. Ottingford trudged along, their heads ducked against the rain, and Heath brought up the rear.

Every one of them was wet, the wool of their coats heavy with the weight of the water soaking them. They were probably colder than Bryony too.

Mikhail squinted through the raindrops, scanning the landscape for some kind of shelter—a cave, a ledge, an overhang, anything that could offer some relief. They had tents to keep them dry as they slept, but that would do them little good if they couldn’t build a fire to get warm.

There, near the side of the mountain, was a stand of trees, and the ground sloped upward to reveal a small hollow sheltered from the wind.

Mikhail stopped, then set down his end of the trunk and glanced back at the others. “Just a minute. I want to see if this will make for a good camp spot.”

He headed off toward the trees, his boots sinking in the sodden earth. The hollow was even better than he’d expected. An overhang of the rock jutted out from the side of the mountain, providing cover from the rain and a space large enough to build a fire and roll out two or three beds.

The trees surrounding the outcropping offered even more shelter from both the wind and rain, and the ground was fairly dry too. It wasn’t as ideal as finding another cave, but it was better than trudging through rain.

Mikhail turned back toward the group. “This will do.”

They all headed his direction, but Bryony reached him first. Her shivering had worsened, and her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the strap of her pack.

Without a word, he shrugged out of his own pack and pulled the spare parka free. “Here.” He draped it over her shoulders before she could protest.

“But—”

“No arguments. You’re already soaked beneath your parka. Sit under the overhang while I start a fire.”

She hesitated, her lips parting as if to protest, but then their eyes met, and something passed between them. Was she remembering the story he’d told her about Livy? Whatever she saw in his gaze must have convinced her to listen, because she gave a small nod and moved toward the dry ground.

“Could’ve picked somewhere with a view.” Richard swung his pack off his shoulders, shooting Mikhail a glare.

“Could’ve left you to sleep in the rain.” Mikhail dug his flint and steel out of the side pocket of his pack. “We’ll make camp here. Give me a minute to make a fire, and then I want everyone out of these wet clothes. We can let them dry by the fire.”

Mikhail set to work gathering moss and the driest bits of kindling he could find under the canopy of trees, then bent and started the moss and a few twigs on fire.

Bryony was the first person to sit beside the small flame and peel off her soaked boots and stockings. The sight of her red, chaffed toes was enough to make him wish he’d brought five extra sets of mukluks with him. Had he known they’d end up caught in snow, he would have. But when he left Petersburg in early October, he thought he’d be able to track down the team of botanists and get them back to Sitka before the snow came.

And he would have been able to find them quickly if Dr. Wetherby had kept his team in the Stikine River valley and hadn’t headed south to the Iskut River, then left the river for the mountains.

Heath and Dr. Ottingford were the next ones to strip off their boots and coats and settle by the fire, followed by Richard and Dr. Wetherby.

Mikhail waited until everyone was settled before hefting his rifle over his shoulder and heading for the trees.

“Where are you going?” Bryony jumped up and followed him.

He looked down at her bare feet. Her toes were red and could only be growing colder against the soggy earth. “To find food. Now go back to the fire. I don’t need you getting frostbite.”

“Do you need someone to go with you?”

Someone to... He blinked. In all his years as a wilderness guide, he’d been asked many things, but never once had someone insinuated he wouldn’t be safe on his own in the woods.

Bryony seemed to realize what she’d just said, because she opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again before saying, “To keep you company. Not because you need help.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the strange sensation filling his chest.

“Forgive me.” Her cheeks turned red, and she dropped her gaze. “It’s just that the last time our guide left us to go hunting, he didn’t come back.”

“That’s not true. I’ve left you to hunt the past two nights and returned each time.”

“But what if you don’t come back this time?” Her eyes came up to meet his, large and luminous.

“The bears are hibernating at this time of year. I’ll be perfectly safe, I promise. Now please go back and sit by the fire before your toes turn numb.”

He could see the thoughts swirling in her eyes, but rather than voice any of them, she simply turned and left.

He forced himself to turn in the opposite direction, heading toward the open mountain and the pounding rain.

But even though the world around him was cold, he couldn’t shake the warmth swelling in his chest.