Page 57 of Track of Courage

Atop the tree stood Griffin in a pair of brown coveralls. He was wearing glasses and chainsaw chaps and sawing through one of the branches. Dawson hauled away cut branches from the pile—she only recognized him by his dark scruff of whiskers and set ofhis shoulders, because he’d also borrowed a pair of coveralls. He seemed to be moving better, although maybe it was just slow going.

On top of the building, the third man from the ice—she thought his name might be Landon—ran another saw, chewing into the arms of the branch. He threw the broken branches down to Donald.

The doors to the building hung open, and she glanced inside to see yet another man—she remembered the name Abe—crouched in front of a big white box, something she might see on the roof of a hospital or behind a building.

“Anything I can do to help?”

The saw cut off her voice, so she didn’t repeat herself, just stood, watching.

Dawson looked over then and waved. Smiled.

And of course, her stupid little heart jumped up and did a dance.

Hello.Leaving.

In twelve hours, she could be on a plane for the Lower 48.

Except, didn’t Nance say another storm might be coming in? She motioned to Dawson to come over, but he held up his hand and turned back to catch a branch that Griffin sawed.

He dragged it away to a pile and then trudged through the snow to her. His reddened cheeks betrayed the cold and his hard work, and he smelled of evergreen and sap. “Hey.”

“Hey. Whatchya doing?”

“Oh, you know. Just hanging out with the guys.” He winked.

Stop it! Stopit!

“Where’s Caspian?”

He looked around. “Don’t know. He took off this morning, went bonkers in the snow. Maybe he thinks he’s on a winter holiday.” He laughed.

He wasn’t the only one.

“It’s cold out today.” She shivered, blew out her breath. It caught in the air.

“Post-storm effect. It’s always warmer when it snows. It’ll warm up—but that will bring another blizzard.”

“Yeah. That’s what I came out to ask. Should we be leaving?”

She didn’t know why the question landed in her heart, twisted.

He glanced at Griffin on the tree, back to her. “Yeah. I just wanted to help them get their power restored. Without heat, they might not make it through the next storm. But pack up—we’ll leave right after lunch. It’ll only take a couple hours to get to the outpost, and then Moose can get us.”

“What am I going to pack?” She smiled at him.

He smiled back, and for a second—a terrible, perfect second—the world stopped. Just her, standing in the snow under a blue sky, the world bright and shiny. Dawson standing in front of her like some Hallmark hero, handsome and...

Herman.

Oh no. She stepped away. “I’ll see if we can pack a lunch.”

He held up a gloved thumb and turned back to the work. Nope, he definitely wasn’t limping so badly today.

She crunched back around the building toward the lodge. Barking lifted, and she turned, spotted Caspian. Someone had shoveled a path down the center of the road, and the dog stood in the middle, a speck of black.

She whistled, but the dog just stood there.

Aw. The last thing Dawson needed was to go hunting for his dog, out chasing some fox.