It'll Be An Adventure (Masters of the Shadowlands #15)(15)
Author: Cherise Sinclair
As a teen, she’d sat on the lodge’s lawn with the instructions she’d researched on how to fix a chainsaw. She’d read the directions to Dugan as he worked. Even at eleven, he’d been a budding mechanic.
Farran had been right next to him, doing his best to help. Because Pa never had any time for him. Heck, for any of them.
God, remember how I rewarded them for acing their homeschooling with fairytales starring the two of them? Dugan the Bold with his broadsword. Farran the Fox with his bow and arrow. Their favorites were stories where they saved Murphy from some peril.
Dugan used to bring her wildflowers; Farran would make them into bracelets.
She’d tried so hard to give them enough love to make up for Mama’s loss…and Pa’s indifference.
After moving out of the B&B, she still saw them, but there was an emotional distance now. They didn’t come to her for hugs or to share their successes and joys.
How could my brothers have changed so much?
With a shuddering breath, she wiped away the tears.
She’d done enough crying.
In the bathroom, she splashed her face with cold water, then looked in the mirror. Red-rimmed eyes, tangled brown hair.
She tried firming her mouth, her jaw. Tried to look stern. Determined. “You will not be a stupid pushover. Not any longer.”
Her spine didn’t feel firm, not at all.
But somehow…somehow, she needed to make some changes.
CHAPTER FIVE
The staging ground for the search and rescue call-out was a parking lot in the Starkey Wilderness Preserve. It held a tangled mass of people—law enforcement, ground-pounder searchers, K9 teams, Florida Fish and Wildlife, and park people.
Late Saturday afternoon, the sweltering air felt like thick soup. Only one minute out of her air-conditioned car, Murphy had a film of moisture on her bare arms. Despite the downpour earlier, it wasn’t raining now.
Her cargo pants and hiking boots made her even hotter, but only a fool hiked through dense undergrowth in shorts.
Tipping her head back, she studied the dark clouds piling up in the west. Another storm was coming across the Bay. There was nothing like the changeable September weather.
The weather felt like a symbol of her miserable week. Breaking up with Ross, then Dugan lending out her house the same night. She shook her head. At least her brother hadn’t called—just sent her an angry text. Being a writer, she far preferred that to a phone call. The text had given her time to compose a tactful—but firm—answer. He hadn’t responded. Hadn’t apologized, either.
That hurt.
“Hey, Murphy, I didn’t know you were coming.” Near the command area—a couple of tables with communications gear and maps—the unit leader of her previous K9 group frowned at his list of responding team members.
“I’m not. Well, I am, but not for your Hillsborough group. Since I live in Pasco County, I switched over to the Pasco K9.” She motioned to the cluster of people.
After Ross had broken off with her last Monday, she’d considered dropping out of search and rescue entirely, but…she didn’t want to. She loved the work. The adventure of it. The joy of helping. To her delight, the Pasco group was closer and happy to have her.
Two days ago, she’d gone to a mid-week training session and gotten the paperwork and orientation out of the way. They seemed to be good people.
“Hell.” Her previous unit leader shook his head. “We’re sorry to lose you, Murphy.”
She smiled, pleased at the sincere comment. “I’ll miss you too.” But she wouldn’t miss the awkwardness of being in the same group as Ross.
Speak of the devil. He was headed this way.
It’d be better to avoid him. She turned and spotted people wearing red T-shirts with the Pasco K9 Search and Rescue logo. Her new group.
As she joined them, Dustin, the unit leader, waved her closer. Balding and freckled, with a short, square build, he’d taken on leadership of the group after his arthritic knees grew too painful for field work. “Everyone, here’s our new assistant, Murphy. She comes to us from the Hillsborough crew. I know some of you have met her already.”
The chorus of friendly greetings warmed her.
“We’ll be searching the wilderness preserve our group is named for—nearly twenty thousand acres. Hopefully, we won’t need to search the whole thing.”
Murphy had to agree with his sentiment. There were swamps, marshes, forest, and sandhills.
The incident commander stepped away from the tables. “People, let’s get started. At dawn, a fourteen-year-old girl had a fight with her new stepmother and ran off. They were camping over there.” He waved toward the nearby campground. “Family and friends, then park and wildlife people searched for her but finally called in the authorities. Unfortunately, between all the searchers and the downpour this morning, tracking is pretty much screwed.”
That was…not good. Murphy exchanged concerned glances with Megan, a dog handler around her age. It wasn’t that long until nightfall. Nights weren’t cold, but the wilderness area was full of dangers. Snakes, bugs, gators, bears, coyotes, and bobcats as well as two-legged assholes. There were wetlands of all kinds—swamps, ponds, rivers.
And no drinkable water. With this heat…
“We need to get out there and find her.” The incident commander indicated the line of black clouds on the horizon. “The forecast is calling for even nastier weather—lightning, downpours, winds. Areas might well flood or turn even more swampy. Let’s get this done before the storm arrives.”
Oh, joy. Nothing like time pressure. She rubbed her damp palms over her pants. Still fairly new to search and rescue, she’d worked with only two dog handlers previously. But Dustin had asked her to come today, saying he was short on K9 assistants…or what some groups called flankers. While the dog handler concentrated on the dog, the flanker watched out for everything else, navigated, and handled communications with the base.
It was a lot.
And didn’t it just figure she’d have to learn to deal with a new handler during a real search, not a practice one?
The noise dropped as people were given maps with their assigned sections to clear.