Montana Daddy. Charlotte Maclay
around to the side of the house. No doubt Everett’s nearly fatal project.
Beyond the path were two sets of footprints sinking deeply into the snow.
“Thank goodness we’re finally here,” Kristi said as she parked next to Rory and dismounted, stomping her feet in the futile hope of regaining her circulation. The thought of having to get back on the snowmobile for the return trip filled her with shivery dread. She’d never be warm again.
After the racket of the snowmobiles, the clearing was eerily still. Snowflakes drifted down soundlessly, creating a blanket of silence. Kristi heard only the tick of cooling engines and the soft hum of pine needles shifting under the press of snow.
“I’m surprised Jane hasn’t come out to greet us,” she whispered, unwilling to break the quiet of the clearing. “She had to have heard us coming.”
“Maybe she’s occupied with Everett.” Rory walked up to the door and knocked. Wearing heavy cold-weather gear, including moon boots, he looked a bit like a traveler from outer space. Yet he moved with the smooth strides of a born athlete, totally confident, no wasted motions.
He’d been like that as a lover, too. Confident. Masterful. Each stroke designed to arouse and give pleasure.
When he knocked again and still got no answer, Kristi said, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Maybe something has happened to Jane, too.”
Testing the latch, he found the door unlocked, probably not unusual in this remote part of the world but still troubling from Kristi’s point of view. Jane really should have greeted them by now.
He shoved the door open and called to the cabin’s occupants. “Jane? Everett? It’s Rory Oakes. Are you here?” When he got no response he stepped inside.
With images of the couple succumbing to carbon monoxide from the wood fire or freezing to death in their isolated world, Kristi followed him inside.
The cozy living area featured a comfortable-appearing couch with a colorful afghan tossed over the back and a wooden rocking chair. Books cluttered several pine shelves, and skeins of yarn spilled out of a basket beside the rocking chair, the work-in-progress draped over its arm. Nearby a potbellied wood stove provided heat for the cabin.
At the opposite end of the dimly lit room stood the kitchen and eating area. Except for a mug on the counter, everything was neat and tidy, including the radio on a table by the wall. Kerosene lanterns were placed around the room at various locations.
Rory peered into the adjacent room. “Nobody’s here.”
Worried, Kristi glanced around. “Where could they be?”
“I haven’t a clue.” His dark brows tugged together. “Put a couple more logs in the fire. I’ll go around back and crank up the generator. Maybe Jane radioed Eric to let him know what was going on.”
“Do you think something’s happened to them?”
“I think Jane has her head on straight. They’ve lived remotely for a dozen years or more. Wherever they are, I’d put my money on them to survive.”
Kristi hoped so. It hardly seemed possible someone came along and did them harm, not in this weather. But a wife desperate to save her husband’s life might do something foolish.
Pulling off her heavy gloves and peeling off her snowsuit, Kristi added fuel from the wood box to the banked fire. The Durfees hadn’t been gone long. The temperature in the cabin was well above freezing.
The low roar of the generator kicked in, filling the unnatural silence in the cabin. Moments later Rory returned, stomping the snow from his boots and slapping his gloves together. Tugging off his ski cap, he shook his head, shifting the strands of his midnight-black hair back into place.
“They’ve gone off on their tractor,” he announced.
“Jane and Everett?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t they wait for us?” If they were planning to leave on their own, they sure could have saved Rory and Kristi a long, uncomfortable trip.
“Who knows.” He shrugged out of his gear, tossed it aside and went to the radio, switching it on.
“They could have at least left a note so we’d know what was going on.” Not that a note would have changed anything. She and Rory still would have endured that miserably cold ride.
“Maybe they let Eric or the doc know what was up.”
It didn’t take long for Eric to respond to Rory’s call on the emergency radio frequency.
“I gather you made it to the Durfees’ cabin.”
“We did,” Rory responded, speaking into a small black microphone with a curling cord stretching to the radio. The dials glowed orange in the half light of a midday twilight. “But there’s nobody here except us snow bunnies. Did Jane check in with you before taking off?” He paused a moment, then Eric responded.
“Right. She radioed shortly after you left. I tried your cell phone but you were out of range.” Rory nodded at that comment. “Everett regained consciousness. Jane thought she’d detected a break in the weather and decided to bring him in herself. They took the tractor down the river route, arrived about a half hour ago. They brought their dog along, too, so you’ve got the cabin to yourself.”
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