She turned back to the clerk and quickly swiped her card to pay.
Colby came into the checkout lane, crowding close to her. “Remember those Christmases with the Andersons? Mrs. Anderson had everything decorated. One year we had a big tree the cat kept knocking over.”
She shot him a side-eye and grabbed her bags. “I remember.”
“Mrs. Anderson always overbaked her ham.”
Meeting the clerk’s eyes, she saw she wouldn’t get any help from her. She’d have to escape Colby on her own.
“Well, the weather’s bad, so I’m going to get home.”
“I’ll carry your groceries to your car for you, Freya.”
Her gut clamped at the sing-song way he always said her name—Fre-ya—since the day they met at the Andersons’ when he was thirteen and she was fourteen. She’d always kept her door locked in foster homes, and Colby seemed like a good reason to continue doing so once the Andersons took her in.
“That’s okay,” she hurried to say. “I only have the two bags. Bye!” She rushed out the automatic doors and into the snow.
It was coming down so much harder, making the parking lot hard to trudge through, but it beat sticking around the store longer and talking to Colby. She just wanted to get home.
As she started toward her car, the lights flickered on the front of the store and then went out. The parking lot lights went out too.
Damn, the snow must have dropped a power line. Outages during storms in Alaska weren’t unusual. In the darkness, she crossed the parking lot more slowly. Why didn’t the store have automatic parking lot lighting like most modern places? Maybe the little store didn’t have money for updates.
Shifting both bags to one hand, she reached for her key fob to unlock the doors.
Pain shattered through her skull. The last thing she remembered was the sight of her items scattering across the snow.
Chapter Two
Aries whined, his nose at the window, fogging up the glass.
“You want the window down, boy?” He cracked it for him. Aries stuck his nose out into the sharp, snowy air.
Then the dog went dead still, tail cocked.
Indicators he’d caught the scent of a human.
Someone was in trouble.
What were the chances someone was stuck on this mountain road? Most people wouldn’t be out here in this filthy weather, and there wasn’t a car in sight.
Each time Hunt received a phone call to join his team for a search, he got an adrenaline rush. It hit him now, a familiar wave that sent his heart speeding and tightened his hands on the wheel.
“What is it, Aries?”
The dog kept his stiff, frozen pose. No denying Aries had caught the scent of a human in trouble.
Some support animals were trained to detect when their owner was about to experience a seizure or had low blood sugar. Aries was trained to sniff out victims.
Dammit, Hunt was on vacation.
But he couldn’t just keep driving and leave someone to die.
With dreams of spending the night staring at a crackling fire fading fast, he pulled to the side of the road. By the time he opened the door for Aries, the dog was shaking to be let out.
“This better not be a snowshoe hare,” Hunt grumbled, knowing full well Aries wouldn’t posture for an animal unless he was given its scent to search for.
With a few commands, Hunt sent Aries running into the night. Hunt popped the glove compartment and grabbed his flashlight. He sent a beam across the wintry landscape but any tracks left by a human were already covered with snow.
He listened for Aries, but the snow muffled his steps. When he found the victim, he’d stay with the person until Hunt caught up to him. As he shined the light on the paw prints, he got another shot of adrenaline that had him striding quickly toward the trees.
His mind jumped ahead. Where would he take the victim after he found them? The closest hospital was an hour away on the other side of the mountains. The clinic twenty minutes off would be their only hope, except it was closed for the weekend.
His mind turned to Cora Sullivan, the bush pilot who often aided Alaska Search and Rescue. But she was still out on maternity leave and couldn’t be reached for help in lifting a hypothermic victim off the mountain.
The party at the firehall was still going on. There were more than enough trained medics there to assist him if things got too rough.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Cason.
Only a few steps off the road, the forest was thick. Some branches wavered, either from the weight of the snow or because Aries had recently run through here.
Hunt took a couple more steps and his light beam fell on his shepherd about five yards off, frozen in mid-step, tail straight out, as he was trained to do when he found a victim.
Beside him, a hump of snow concealed a shape.
“Good boy, Aries!” Hunt lurched forward, ducking under a branch that shook its snow down the collar of his ski jacket. Ignoring the ice against his nape, he reached the victim. He hovered over the person, making assessments in a blink.
Female. Tall. Dressed in a winter coat with gloves on. That might save her from losing her fingers to frostbite.
He rolled the woman over and drifted his light over her pale face. Her blue lips didn’t bode well, but he ripped off his glove and pressed his fingers against her throat. She had a pulse, a steady thump.
She hadn’t been here long.
And she was breathing too.
He tracked his gaze down her body. Did she break anything and require a backboard? He always carried one in the back of his SUV.
“Hey! Can you hear me?” He patted a hand against her cheek. “Lady, wake up! Open your eyes!”
Aries stood beside them, not leaving the woman’s side.
Hunt jammed his glove back on and used both hands to remove the snow from around the woman’s body. Then, starting at her neck, he felt down her body, over the vertebrae of her neck, to her shoulders, upper arms and so on, feeling over body parts that would have conscious women slapping him.
He didn’t feel any fractures or broken ribs that could threaten her breathing. When he moved back up her head and ran his fingers lightly over her skull, she moaned and he found the source of blood.
A small spot on the back of her skull. She’d probably hit it on a branch.
But what was she doing out here in the first place? He strained to see through the trees. A car was big enough to spot if she’d run off the road, but she hadn’t been thrown from a vehicle. She’d come here on foot.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been called out to rescue someone after a hike went wrong or a skier broke his leg.
He patted her cheek again. She didn’t rouse.
“Aries.”
The dog knew just what to do. He stuck his face next to hers, nudging her with his cold, wet nose. Usually that worked, but this time the woman remained still and unconscious. Just when Hunt reached for his phone to make the call to Team Delta for backup, the woman’s eyelids fluttered.
When she opened her eyes, they remained fixed on the tree branches above. Snow fell on her face, and Hunt quickly brushed the flakes away.
“I’m here to help you. My name is Hunt. Can you tell me if anything hurts?”
“I have to get up.” She tried to push onto her elbows, but he placed a hand on her chest to hold her in place and leaned over her to examine her eyes.