Page 11

M att gripped the door handle of the rangers’ truck as it lurched over another muddy rut in the service road.

Rain lashed against the windshield, the wipers barely keeping up with the deluge.

Beside him in the back seat, Lynda braced herself against the headrest, her face a mask of determination in the dim light.

“How much farther?” Matt asked, squinting through the rain-streaked glass.

Another ranger, Daphne Stevens, was seated in the front passenger seat beside Ben. She looked down at her GPS. “Half a mile to the trailhead, then it’s a quarter-mile hike to the den. The person who found the pups said there are lots of fallen branches and the river is rising fast.”

Matt exchanged a glance with Lynda. Sturdy hiking pants, a waterproof jacket, and boots now replaced her elegant dress from the fundraiser. She’d tied her hair back in a practical braid, and her face was free of makeup. To Matt, she’d never looked more beautiful.

Lynda checked the medical kit for the third time. “If we can stabilize the mother, we might be able to save both her and the pups.”

Matt nodded, though privately he was less optimistic. The worsening storm and the remote location was working against them.

The truck slid as they rounded a bend, and Ben corrected the steering. Flathead Lake was to the left of them, but it was so dark that Matt couldn’t see a thing past the edge of the road.

“There!” Daphne pointed to a small clearing ahead. “That’s the trailhead.”

Ben pulled the truck as close as possible, then cut the engine. The sudden silence made the hammering rain seem even louder. “We’ll need to move quickly but carefully. Remember to stay together. This storm’s getting worse by the minute.”

They geared up quickly—headlamps, rain ponchos over their already wet-weather gear, backpacks with medical supplies, and a GPS to find the pups location. Matt carried a collapsible stretcher for the mother wolfdog, while Lynda held a carrying case designed for small animals.

The moment they stepped out of the truck, the full force of the storm hit them. The rain was coming sideways now, driven by gusts of wind that bent the tops of the pines surrounding them. The ground underfoot was a treacherous mix of mud, fallen leaves, and exposed roots.

“This way!” Ben called, already heading up a narrow path that was quickly becoming a stream.

Matt fell into step behind him, with Lynda close behind and Daphne bringing up the rear. The beam of his headlamp bounced off rain-slicked rocks and puddles as they climbed steadily upward. Though the distance wasn’t great, the conditions made every step a challenge.

Ten minutes into the hike, the walkie-talkie on Ben’s belt crackled to life. “Base to rescue team. There are reports of flash flooding farther up the valley. How far away from the pups are you?”

“We’re almost at the den site,” Ben replied. “We’ll get out of here as fast as we can.”

There was a pause, then the voice said, “Understood. But make it quick. The worst of the storm hasn’t passed.”

Ben ended the call and they pushed forward, climbing the steep and slippery slope as best they could.

“There!” Ben stopped, pointing his light toward a rocky outcropping about fifty yards ahead. “The den should be just beyond those fallen trees.”

They approached carefully. Wolfdog hybrids could be unpredictable in the best of circumstances, and an injured mother protecting her pups would be doubly dangerous.

As they drew closer, Matt’s heart sank. Even from a distance, he could see the massive trunk of a pine tree that had fallen directly across the entrance to a small cave. Beneath it, barely visible, was the still form of a large animal.

“Oh no,” Lynda breathed beside him.

They all hurried toward the wolfdog. She lay motionless, the fallen tree pinning her body to the ground. Even in death, the mother was magnificent. She had silver-gray fur, a powerful build, with features that clearly showed both her wolf and dog heritage.

Matt knelt beside the animal, placing a gentle hand on her side, though he already knew what he would find. No heartbeat, no breath. “She’s only been dead for an hour or two,” he said quietly.

Lynda was already moving past the mother, toward the small opening of the den. “The puppies,” she said urgently. “If they’re still alive, we need to get to them.”

Matt joined her, shining his light into the darkness. The beam caught a movement—something small and furry huddled at the back of the den.

“They’re alive!” Lynda exclaimed. “I can see at least three of them.”

Matt looked around the opening. “It’s too small for either of us to crawl through. We’ll need to move some of these rocks to widen it.”

Working together, they removed the stones from around the entrance while the rangers kept watch for any signs of further landslides or falling trees. The rain continued to pour down, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

“Almost there,” Matt grunted as he shifted a heavy boulder. “Try now, Lynda. You’re smaller than me.”

Lynda didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her hands and knees and began to wiggle into the opening, her headlamp shining into the cave.

“Be careful,” Matt couldn’t help saying, his heart in his throat as she disappeared into the dark space.

For a few tense moments, all he could see were her boots. Then her voice came back to him, filled with a mix of relief and urgency.

“Five puppies!” Lynda said loudly. “All alive but cold and hungry. They look about three weeks old. Matt, I’ll need the carrying case and some of those warming packs.”

Matt quickly unpacked the supplies she needed, passing them through the opening. Working together, they managed to get all five squirming puppies safely into the insulated carrier.

“They’re dehydrated but otherwise seem healthy,” Lynda reported as she emerged from the den, mud-streaked but triumphant. “No obvious injuries.”

A crack of lightning split the sky, followed almost immediately by a deafening thunderclap. The storm was directly overhead now.

“We need to move!” Ben shouted over the wind. “That slope above us is showing signs of giving way!”

Matt secured the carrier with the puppies while Lynda quickly examined the mother one last time, her face solemn.

“We’ll have to leave her,” she said regretfully. “We can come back after the storm passes.”

Matt nodded and helped Lynda to her feet. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were, it was always hard when an animal died. “Let’s get out of here.”

The journey back down the trail was even more treacherous than the climb up. The path had transformed into a muddy stream, with water rushing down the hillside. Matt carried the precious cargo of puppies, while Lynda stayed close beside him, helping to navigate the safest route.

At one point, Matt’s foot slipped on a submerged rock, and he started to lose his balance. Instantly, Lynda’s hand was there, gripping his elbow with surprising strength, steadying him.

“I’ve got you,” she said, their eyes meeting briefly in the glow of their headlamps.

“Thanks,” he replied, the word encompassing far more than just gratitude for preventing a fall.

They continued downward, watching out for each other. When they finally reached the truck, all four of them were soaked to the skin, covered in mud, and breathing hard from exertion.

Matt placed the puppies between Lynda and himself in the back seat. Ben took the wheel again, with Daphne radioing updates to their office.

“There’s a landslide blocking the main road,” Daphne told them. “We’ll have to take the long way around through the logging roads.”

Ben nodded, putting the truck in gear. “As long as they’re passable, we’ll make it.”

For the next hour, they navigated a maze of increasingly flooded logging roads, the truck struggling through sections where water reached halfway up the wheels. Ben drove with intense concentration, his hands steady on the wheel despite the treacherous conditions.

From the back seat, Lynda kept a careful eye on the puppies. “They’re responding well to the warming packs. I’ve given them each a little glucose solution, which has perked them up. They’re going to need formula as soon as we get back to town.”

“We’ve got supplies at the clinic,” Matt told her. “We can set up the incubator for them there.”

After another thirty minutes of nerve-wracking driving, they finally stopped outside Matt’s clinic. Even though the storm was still raging, the tension in his shoulders began to ease.

“You both did amazing work up there,” Ben said, glancing at them in the rearview mirror. “Most people wouldn’t have gone out in this weather, let alone saved those little ones.”

“The puppies wouldn’t have survived without us,” Matt told him. “Thanks for the ride. My truck would have struggled on the roads.”

Daphne turned and smiled. “That’s what we’re here for. Let us know how the puppies are in a few days’ time.”

“And don’t worry about the pups’ mother,” Ben added. “We’ll go back and bury her once the storm passes.”

Lynda undid her seatbelt. “Thank you. I hope you don’t have any more callouts.”

When they’d said goodbye to Ben and Daphne, Matt picked up their supplies while Lynda carried the puppies toward the clinic.

As quickly as possible, they warmed the incubator to the perfect temperature, prepared some formula, and one by one, fed the tiny puppies.

“They’re fighters,” Lynda said softly as the smallest of the litter eagerly sucked on the bottle she was giving her.

Matt glanced up from the puppy he was feeding. Lynda’s braid had come partially undone, her silver hair forming a soft frame around her face. There was still mud on her cheek and her clothes were damp and rumpled. Yet to Matt, she looked absolutely perfect.

“You were amazing out there,” he said, the words coming from somewhere deep and honest within him.

Lynda smiled, her focus still on the puppy in her arms. “Anyone else would have done the same thing. Besides, I’ve had years of emergency calls in Denver.

But I’ve never done a rescue quite like this one.

” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Thank you for letting me come along. Most vets would have insisted on handling it themselves.”

“Most vets haven’t worked with you,” Matt replied simply.

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the soft whimpers and suckling sounds of the puppies. Outside, the storm continued to rage, but in here, they had created a sanctuary of warmth and safety.

Matt returned the pup he’d fed to the incubator. “They’re going to need round-the-clock care for at least two weeks. We’ll have to feed them every three hours.”

Lynda nodded and looked at him, a small smile playing at her lips. “Once the community hears about the pups, we’ll have more volunteers to help us. But until then, I don’t think either of us will be getting much sleep.”

“Partners?” he asked, offering her a clean bottle for the next puppy.

Lynda’s smile deepened as she accepted it, their fingers brushing. “Partners,” she agreed.

As the storm raged outside and five tiny lives depended on them inside, Matt felt more certain than he had in years. Whatever happened next—with the puppies, with Sapphire Bay, and with his life—having Lynda beside him made everything better.

And that was something worth holding onto.