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The wind was both their enemy and their friend. The way it howled masked the sound of the door crashing open when Bear kicked it down with the help of his snow boots.

Sometimes being a stud was an advantage, he wanted to tell Lila. But they had no time for jokes anymore.

He ducked outside and made sure no one was nearby, that no one had heard the crash of the door splintering. Visibility was terrible, with the wind driving thick snow against his face. The only light came from the main hexagonal structure; that must be where they were all waiting out the storm.

He reached out a hand to help Lila leave the shed. If only their skis were nearby, but a quick glance around told him they weren’t. They’d have to walk in their snow boots.

As they headed in the direction he knew was the river, the wind fought them every step of the way. It blew sharp snow crystals against their cheeks. It whipped at their clothes. It made the air feel thirty degrees colder than it was.

In the old days, people used to rig up ropes from one building to another, from barn to homestead, so if a whiteout blizzard hit, you could still find your way to your livestock. They had no such guide in this chaotic snowy darkness. He was counting on his innate sense of direction, and the light from the compound, which he kept on their right.

Lila tired quickly. It was hard work post-holing through the snow. When they were about halfway to the river, he lifted her onto his back.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, so out of breath it was hard to make out her words.

“Don’t be. You’re keeping me warm.” She was so light, like a butterfly perched on his back. The benefit of her body heat balanced out the extra weight to carry, and besides…there was nothing in the world more important than getting her to safety.

The journey seemed to take an eternity, so long he lost track of the passage of time. All he heard was the wild moaning of the wind, the impact of his boots in the snow, and Lila’s soft breathing near his ear.

He kept his gaze fixed on their path through the snow, while she watched out for dangers looming ahead. With this degree of visibility, she barely caught sight of things before they were on top of them. A tree branch poking up through the snow. A pipe that probably marked a sewer line. A signpost that, once they got close to it, read Snow River, 100 yards.

A hundred yards. He could do that. One step at a time, that was all. A step, then another step.

A subtle roar grew deeper as they got closer to the river. The water was still flowing under there, he’d say maybe a foot under the surface. It wouldn’t be safe for him to carry her like this on the ice. Their combined weight would be too much.

When they reached the edge of the river, which was barely visible through the dense whirling veil of snow, he let her slip down his body. Panting, he stood with his body angled against the wind, shielding her from the worst of it. He scanned the darkness for any sign of a snowmobile, but couldn’t see one.

“We’re going to have to walk on the ice,” he told her softly. “I’ll go first. If it takes my weight, it’ll take yours.”

“Wait,” she panted. “What about the snowmobiles?”

“They’re probably up at the compound. Shit.” He was so weary it was hard to talk. The idea of trudging miles through a blizzard down Snow River seemed impossible. But he wasn’t thinking clearly. The cold and the exertion had gotten to him. His eyes hurt from straining to see where he was going. All his muscles ached.

Lila took his face in her gloved hands. He blinked at her through the flying snow. “Bear. Listen to me. We need to make ourselves a place to stay safe until the blizzard’s over. Okay? Do you understand?”

As if through a long tunnel, her eyes drew him back to himself. Pulled him from confusion into clarity—about at least one thing. “I love you,” he said through the howl of the wind. “No matter what happens tonight, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Her violet eyes held him in a kind of spell. In those depths, he saw everything—love, the future, the present, the past. “I love you completely, and forever. Now focus, Bear. Can we make a shelter of some kind?”

He forced himself back to the demands of the present. Survival. Lila was right. They’d die on that river of ice. “A snow shelter. Yeah, we can do that. The elders taught me how.”

They trudged into the woods along the river until he found the right kind of spot. Deep snow, relatively calm. While Lila dug out the snow by hand, he searched for branches to construct a roof. It took an hour, maybe more, until they could crawl into the space and pull the branches over them.

“Snow will cover up the branches and keep us hidden,” he told her. “The snow is insulation, and our combined body heat will do a lot.”

“Do you think they’ll look for us?”

“No. They’re here for one thing, set fire to that compound. We’re collateral damage. They’ll assume we’re still in that shed.”

“Ugh. You know, I hate to say bad things about people, but those guys are really just no good, are they?”

He laughed, then laughed again, and they held each other and quaked with laughter. “I meant what I said just now,” he told her when he’d gotten it out of his system. “I love you. I love you hard. No going back from it.”

She snuggled into his arms and sighed happily. “Is it wrong to feel completely happy even though we’re hiding out in a snow shelter so we don’t get burnt to a crisp by traffickers?”

He chuckled and held her more tightly. The whine of the wind became a lullaby. Slowly his face went from numb to tingling as his body warmed. Just when he thought Lila was asleep, she murmured, “You made sure I had a place to stay, didn’t you? When I first got here?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you to stay,” he said simply.

“But why there? Why the hardware store?”

He had no answer to that, other than, “It was all I could think of.”

“Intuition,” she whispered. “We’re not so different. I think I dreamed about this many years ago, on my eighteenth birthday. I dreamed I was flying across the snow after a bear who needed me, and then I fell into the snow and when I woke up, my hair was white. Now here we are, in the snow, together.”

Bear couldn’t find the words to respond. Magic, was all he could think. She’s magic. This is magic. He held her close and let his love pour into her.

He was almost asleep when she whispered, “Are you ever going to tell me your other name?”

He chuckled. “If you wish.”

“I do.”

“It’s Snow. Technically, it’s all one word, Snow-Bear, except in Ahtna. I decided to just use the Bear part.”

“Snow-Bear,” she whispered. “That’s perfect. I love that. I love you, Snow-Bear.” And she fell asleep. So did he, like a stone down a well.

When he woke up, the howl of the blizzard had stopped and light filtered down through the spruce branches. He shook Lila awake. Her eyes blinked open and smiled into his, and he’d never known such happiness.

They each ate an energy bar and drank some water. His muscles were cramped from sleeping in such tight quarters—shallow sleep, always alert for danger—and he had no idea what was facing them out there.

But he was strangely calm and happy. He and Lila were together, and they loved each other, and he’d protect this magical, vulnerable, core-strong soul to the ends of the earth.

After they’d eaten, they gingerly pushed away the spruce boughs and the extra foot of snow that had fallen since they’d built the shelter. The morning was full of golden light that glanced off the snow in an exuberance of sparkles.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered.

“It sounds like a fire.”

“They must have gone through with it.” He listened closely, trying to determine if they’d just set the fire, or if it had been going for a while. He hadn’t heard the sounds of a snowmobile, so they must still be here on the property.

Another sound caught his attention. A mechanical whine resolved into a flapping of blades. “There’s a helicopter coming. Maybe a few.”

He climbed out of the shelter and shaded his eyes against the sun. Helicopters weren’t necessarily a good thing. They could be coming to help Hardwell and company, who apparently had unlimited resources at their disposal.

He reached a hand to Lila to help her out of the shelter. As she brushed snow off herself, her face lit up with a glow of wonder. “Is it always so beautiful after a blizzard?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “It always is.”

She cocked her head to listen to the sound of approaching helicopters. “They’re with us,” she said confidently.

“Intuition?”

“No. Why would they bother to send helicopters to a compound they just burned down? It would draw attention. It’s not logical.”

He burst out laughing and pulled her against him. “You’re always going to surprise me, aren’t you?”

A mischievous smile played across her lips. “Most likely. Are you okay with that?”

He answered with a passionate kiss that said more than he ever could with words.

They made their way out of the sheltering woods, through the knee-high snow. Luckily, at these low temperatures, the snow was light and fluffy, rather than wet and dense. When they reached the beach clearing on the river, they saw the glow of a fire up the slope. All those expensive secrets, up in flames.

All except the one still hidden inside his jacket.

Another sound caught his ear. The snowmobiles were in motion. He focused on them, drowning out all the other sounds, so he could pinpoint their direction.

When the first helicopter’s skids touched the snow, almost immediately the hatch opened and Officer Cromwell prepared to jump out. He and Bear caught sight of each other at the same moment, and both hesitated—probably for the same reason.

Could Cromwell be trusted? He might be here to help the suspects escape, to complete the coverup. Then he caught sight of Sam Coburn strapped into one of the spare seats, and relaxed. He trusted Sam, and if he was involved, it must be because of Molly.

Molly must have gotten Grant to town, then taken care of business and called for reinforcements. Smart cookie.

Bear called to Cromwell, “Suspects on the run. Headed west-southwest through the forest toward Granite Valley. There’s a trail there. Two armed men on snowmobiles, maybe more.” He didn’t know how Hardwell had come to be here. Maybe he had his own transpo.

Bear could see the officer debate with himself—could Bear be trusted or was he the bad guy here? He held steady, not giving an inch.

Cromwell nodded and closed the hatch of the helicopter. It lifted into the air in a whirlwind of snow and headed upslope.

“I suppose he’s going to get all the credit for arresting those goons,” said Lila.

“Maybe. But we have the most important thing.” He tapped his chest, where the plastic bag crinkled.

“Love?”

He tilted his head back and laughed with pure joy. “Yeah. And the evidence they’re all going to want.”

She shielded her face with her arm as a second helicopter appeared in a whir of spinning blades. He settled his arm around her as the helo touched down. This time, when the hatch opened, Molly and Ani waved at them.

“Are you both okay?” called Ani. She held a medical kit on her lap.

“Great!” called Lila. Her smile was pure sunshine.

“Want a ride?”

Lila glanced up at Bear and they smiled at each other. “We were thinking we’d walk down Snow River, but since you’re here…”

“Get in.” Molly waved at them impatiently. “We have so much to tell you. And we have a surprise.”

Another face appeared in the window. A woman in a colorful poncho and a cowboy hat peered at them from behind Molly.

Next to him, Lila gasped. “Nancy Butcher?”