Page 9 of Summer Storm (Seasons In Montana: Summer #9)

Summer Storm

Aaron

Ducking beneath a branch, there isn’t much to see as we set off into the woods perpendicular to the main trail.

It isn’t until we’re about fifty yards into the forest that Brielle and I see the remains of a trail and a fist size hole in the ground where it looks like a rock has been pried away.

It’s curious. Maybe the boys set out on a treasure hunt and instead of turning back, they got lost instead?

After a few yards more we find the rock. The pattern repeats itself a few times the further we go, but then those findings diminish and then disappear altogether. Rudy is undeterred.

I enjoy watching woman and dog work in tandem like a well-oiled machine. I’m surprised their process isn’t like the movies. I guess I pictured a more harried dash through the woods like a pack of hounds baying on the heels of their prey.

Instead their pace is steady but meandering, at least Rudy’s is as he ranges from side-to-side, letting his nose guide him. Sometimes he stops and gleans information from a particular spot but then starts moving again.

Brielle follows ten to fifteen feet behind Rudy, offering praise and recording observations of Rudy’s progress.

She also snaps a few pictures too. Every hour or so, she marks our whereabouts with the GPS tracking device each team is equipped with.

Five green dots show on the screen. Each time a team marks a location, the device puts a pin on the map, so each search area is recorded.

Whichever team finds the boys will turn their light to red and rescue personnel will be dispatched to the location and the other teams will know to stop searching and return to home base.

Me? I’m bringing up the rear of our little expedition, keeping my eyes open for any trouble in the form of wild animals or any other pitfalls that may slow us down. We call out the boy’s names every few minutes, I hold my breath and listen, hoping for a response.

The deeper we go, the thicker the forest becomes with the trees getting larger and the rougher and more overgrown the trail Rudy is following becomes as he wends his way along the top side of a gorge that stretches along the terrain.

There are drop-offs and sheer cliff faces visible on the other side and I’m thankful the scent Rudy’s following doesn’t lead us over the edge.

Any other time I would find the view fantastic.

I wonder if the boys are trying to make their way around the gorge to cut back toward the campground.

“Jesus, careful sweetheart.” I’m able to catch Brielle as she snags her foot on a branch broken away from some deadfall. “Let’s stop here and take a break.”

“Good idea. Rudy, heel.” The dog stops and looks back, as if to say, ‘what’s the holdup’, but then with his tongue lolling he comes back to sit at Brielle’s feet.

Brielle removes her rucksack and pulls a collapsible bowl and a bottle of water from her pack.

After Rudy has a chance to drink, Brielle pulls out a sealed container.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, this is one of Rudy’s snacks. Even though it may not seem like it, he’s expending a lot of energy.

It’s freeze-dried pieces of beef and chicken.

It smells like the devil’s armpit,” Brielle grins, holding the container out to me.

Laughing I take a step back. “but he loves it all the same and it’s chock full of protein. Wanna try it?”

“Yeah, no thanks.” I laugh. “Keep being sassy and I might refuse to share my trail mix with you.”

“How about I trade you a piece of jerky for a handful of your mix, even Steven?”

I tip my head and consider the offer, then up the negotiation. “Throw in a kiss and you have a deal.”

“Deal.” She sticks out her hand to shake on it.

I take her hand in mine, pressing it against my heart and then lean down and claim her lips.

What was supposed to be light and playful, turns hot and voracious.

When we part, it takes us both a moment to catch our breaths.

There’s so much I want to say, but now isn’t the time or the place.

When we’re home again though? I’m laying everything I want out to her, I just hope she’s on the same page.

“It’s growing darker, we should get moving soon.” We both glance up at the canopy of branches above.

“You’re right.” She sighs.

After we munch our shared snacks, Brielle uses the dead branches as a screen for privacy while I turn my back and piss in the other direction.

Using hand sanitizer, we “wash” up, I don’t know about her but somehow my hands never feel truly clean without soap and water.

For now, I guess it’ll have to do. We help each other back into our packs and Brielle gives Rudy another whiff of the scent bag and then were off.

The higher we climb the rougher the landscape becomes. There are bigger patches of open land, but the sky has grown steely with low hanging clouds and mist begins to cling to my hair and beard.

Entering another patch of trees, thunder rumbles in the distance, rolling closer.

Mist turns to drizzle. Pondering the terrain, I picture a map in my head and calculate how far we’ve come.

I think I know where we are. If I’m right and Rudy isn’t leading us on a wild goose chase, there should be a fire tower around not too far ahead.

Visibility drops to a few yards. The wind kicks it up a notch, whistling through the tops of the trees even as the pine needles beneath our feet become slick and treacherous.

I peer through the gloom looking for a good place to set up a rough country camp.

“Brielle, we’ve got to stop before this storm reaches us.” I can tell by the stubborn tilt of her chin she’s determined to push on. “No, sweetheart, It’s too risky, I won’t risk you getting hurt. Think, baby, Rudy could get hurt.”

“But those boys are out here all alone…”

We won’t do them any good if resources need to be pulled away from the search to come rescue us instead. Besides, it’ll be night soon, we’ll have to stop anyway. The storm should pass within a couple hours. We’ll get moving again in the morning as soon as it’s light, rain or shine, okay?”

“Yeah, alright. Rudy, heel.” She’s torn, I am too, but stopping now is the prudent thing to do.

“Good. There’s a flat spot over there, see it?”She turns to where I’m pointing then nods as I unbuckle my rucksack. “Help me get a tarp strung up between those trees to keep the worst of the rain off of us.”

As soon as the tarp is strung up A-frame style between the trees and the ground is cleared of rocks and debris, I get to work snapping together a small two-person tent beneath the tarp while Brielle gives Rudy food and more water.

“Here,” I help Brielle remove her rucksack. “Take off your boots and get inside. I’ll hand in a sleeping bag. Spread it out and then I’ll hand in the rest of our stuff and Rudy.”

“Okay. Um, I have a towel I keep in my stuff for Rudy’s feet, let me pull that out for you.”

While Brielle gets to work with the sleeping bag and stowing our packs at one end, I wipe Rudy’s paws and coax him over the lip of the tent and then take off my boots, setting both hers and mine right outside the tent flap, but well under the shelter of the tarp and crawl inside and zip it closed to keep any bugs out just as the skies open up.

It’s cramped inside the little enclosure but that just means we’ll have to snuggle. We both remove the bright reflective vests. Brielle turns on a small flashlight, and we rummage through our packs getting settled in for the night.

I stretch out, feet toward Rudy, who’s laying at one end already asleep. My head nearly brushes our packs. Brielle bumps me in the ribs with her knees as she straightens out beside me. I’m not having that though, instead I pull her against me.

“Come here to me, woman.”

She sighs, melting and molding against me, her hand finding it’s way over my heart, a soft little sparrow finding the safety of home.

So natural and easy. It unlocks something inside me and just like turning off a light switch, I feel the stress of the situation we’re in just drain outta me.

It’s a nice feeling. No, a fucking stellar feeling, like transcendence or some holy life altering out of body experience.

We lay like this for a while, drifting, dozing, maybe just floating in our own thoughts, listening to the wind and the rain.

My voice is hushed but I still kinda startle both of us when I speak. “With this downpour, will Rudy be able to pick up the scent again?”

Brielle’s fingers jerk, but the motion turns to a rhythmic caress that I’m sure is meant to be soothing. It’s not. “Honey, Rudy can find a scent the size of a teardrop in a chlorinated Olympic sized pool.”

“Honey, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” She purrs, and suddenly I’m not in the mood for rest.

In a spectacular maneuver that’s more barbarian than gentleman I half sit up, rolling her under me. Lips seeking, I find hers in a kiss so intimate that anything that’s come before vanishes in the fog of passion descending upon us.

I can’t explain it, but there’s something about being tucked away in the darkness, in a shelter I’ve provided for her, my body protecting her, a barrier between her and the wilderness that nourishes my soul, like I’m everything a man– Brielle’s man– is supposed to be.

And there she is– sovereign, woman, Goddess, meeting me in the betwixt and between at the very epicenter of passion, creation and destruction, a supernova exploding into something exponentially infinite.

Her knees part, her thighs cradling my hips even as our desperate hands scrabble against clothing shoving it aside. Cool fingers slip into my hair grasping tight handfuls as I sink into the soft, silky wetness of her body.

Soft mewls and squeaks, and shivery breaths that have lived in my dreams these past months burst to life but travel no further than my ears as thunder bounces off the mountain, shaking the ground, in a cymbal crashing accompaniment to the storm raging in my blood.