Page 19

The wind had shifted overnight, bringing with it a chill that hinted at early frost. The sun had yet to climb over the ridgeline as Natalie stood near the trailhead with her backpack slung over one shoulder, her fingers adjusting the radio clipped to her vest. Her breath fogged in the cool air.

She checked the location coordinates one last time, reviewing the GPS message from a local hiker who had reported spotting a limping mountain lion cub along a ravine a few Giles northeast of the sanctuary’s marked boundary.

Olivia had wanted to send a team, but Natalie had insisted on taking the lead herself. Mason, predictably, hadn’t let her go alone.

“We’re likely looking at a cub that’s gotten separated from its mother and injured itself,” she said as he joined her. “Probably dehydrated, disoriented. But we won’t know until we get there.”

Mason handed her a thermos. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“I’m sure.”

There was no bravado in her tone, just quiet certainty.

She needed this. Needed to prove to herself that she could lead, make critical decisions, and navigate difficult terrain without second-guessing.

After everything with Mason, after Davey’s truth, after learning how much the town still misunderstood them, Natalie was burning with purpose.

They set out at first light, climbing the steep trail through tall pines and thickets of fir.

Mason took point through the denser sections, but Natalie’s confidence grew with each step, navigating with practiced focus.

An hour into the hike, they heard the first faint yowl.

It echoed across the ridge, somewhere below them.

They paused, crouching beneath a low canopy of branches.

“Southwest slope,” Mason said. “Close. Maybe half a mile.”

Natalie nodded and led the way, carefully descending the loose path. The terrain shifted underfoot, gravel and loose stone. At one point, she slipped, her ankle twisting just slightly before Mason caught her.

“You alright?”

She gritted her teeth, nodded. “Fine.”

His hand lingered on her back a beat longer than necessary. Just a brush, but she felt it. The way he steadied her, not just physically, but something deeper. A kind of grounding she hadn’t realized she craved.

They reached the ravine just before midday.

And there, nestled between the roots of a fallen pine, was the cub.

Its leg was curled at an awkward angle, eyes glassy with exhaustion, tongue dry and cracked.

It didn’t move as they approached. Natalie’s breath caught.

She approached slowly, murmuring soft reassurances.

Mason unpacked the emergency crate. “If we can get it stabilized, we can carry it back halfway, then call for pickup.”

As Natalie knelt beside the cub, assessing the injury, a sharp crack echoed through the trees. Gunshot. They both froze. Then another. Distant, but unmistakable.

Natalie’s heart thundered. Mason stood, tense. “Poachers? ”

“Or someone trying to scare us off.”

“Either way, we need to move. Fast.” Natalie worked quickly, splinting the cub’s leg with practiced hands. The animal whimpered once but didn’t fight. It was too weak.

“Let me carry him,” Mason said.

“No. I’ve got him.”

He didn’t argue, just watched her lift the crate with quiet strength.

They climbed steadily, adrenaline dulling the ache in her muscles.

The forest felt denser now. Every crack of a twig, every gust of wind seemed loaded with intent.

More than once, Natalie turned, sure she’d seen movement. But it was only the woods watching.

At the halfway point, Mason called in their location. “Rescue team’s en route,” he said. “Ten minutes.”

They stopped in a small clearing. Natalie lowered the crate gently and sat beside it, her legs trembling.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been that scared,” she admitted.

Mason sat beside her. “You handled it.”

She turned to him. “I keep thinking about all the things we’re up against. Legal threats. Local opposition. All of it. And sometimes it’s overwhelming and that, back there didn’t help.”

“It didn’t,” he said without hesitation. “But we got through it.”

She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m not used to all this,” she said. “But at the same time I need it like I need air.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But I need you too.”

She looked up at him, and their eyes locked. In the filtered light of the forest, surrounded by the wild and the risk and the weight of everything they carried, she saw something in him that made her heart soar. Devotion.

He touched her cheek gently, his thumb brushing a smear of dirt she hadn’t noticed .

“I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust you,” he said.

Her breath caught. “Same.”

They kissed, slow, steady, their lips tasting of fear overcome, of trust hard-earned.

It wasn’t rushed. It was a claiming. A confirmation.

When the sound of the approaching vehicle finally broke through the woods, Natalie stood with Mason beside her, the crate between them.

She had led the rescue. She had trusted herself. Finally.