Page 17 of Solid as Steele
Owen helped carry dishes to the sink. “I wasn’t trying to butter the guy up. He really does seem to know what he’s doing.”
“Has for years.” She settled a plate in the dishwasher. “One time when I was in junior high and we were staying at his family resort, I got into a fight with my cousin Londyn and stormed off. Of course, I got lost in the woods. Panicked. Scared my parents to death, but Ryan found me within an hour.”
She looked at Owen, a sheepish expression on her face. “If we hadn’t been friends I would’ve been mortified. But he was cool about things, and it was much better that he found me before they had to call in the official search and rescue team.”
Owen put the orange juice in the refrigerator. “Well, I’m thankful for his help for sure.”
She locked gazes. “Are you sure you’re ready for what we might find?”
“Ready?” He closed the refrigerator door. “Probably not, but I want to know who I am, and I’ll risk learning anything to figure that out. Even what we might uncover today.”
As they started their trek over the dusty soil in the warmth of the morning sun, Mackenzie didn’t like the grimace on Owen’s face. He’d insisted on carrying the backpack and was holding his hands under it to keep the pack suspended above his back. He had to be in a lot of pain. Senseless pain, if anyone asked her. He didn’t have to suffer when she could be doing her part. But he’d insisted, and she didn’t want to further tax what she suspected was an assault on his perceived male worthiness.
Guys associated way too much with their occupations. Women too, but usually not to the same extent. Still, she knew if she suddenly had no idea of who she was, she would be stressed to the max. Imagine not knowing if you were a good person or a criminal? If you were compassionate or a sociopath? If you were Christian or someone who lived without a guiding faith?
She’d probably lose it, but he continued to hold things together. Stoic most of the time, but he did occasionally crack a smile and even laugh. Then she saw a man who would be fun to get to know.
Ryan squatted next to a large footprint and looked at Owen. “Are the shoes you’re wearing now the ones you were wearing when you arrived?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see the bottom.”
Owen lifted his foot.
“See the waffle print and rounded toe and the way the heel is worn down on the outside? Matches your shoe and the size is right. These are your footprints for sure, and this shoe print is the same as all of the ones I’ve seen.”
Mackenzie eyed the footprints. “Owen was alone as he said.”
“At least at this point.” Ryan stood. “Let’s follow the trail.”
She and Owen traipsed after Ryan and walked all morning over dry dirt, scrub, and tufts of brown grass. Huge boulders were scattered around and a few buttes rose up from the gritty soil like desert skyscrapers. Otherwise, the only interesting sight for her besides the Painted Hills was Owen. He had determination, she’d give him that. At their water breaks, she’d tried to grab the pack but he’d been adamant about carrying it and gingerly lifted it onto his battered body.
She’d made sure to compliment him on his resolve. She should’ve mentioned the stubbornness instead, but Ryan interrupted as he scanned the surroundings.
“Hang on.” He charged across the area running parallel to their trail. “Yeah, tire tracks.” Bending down, he got out his camera and snapped pictures. He took out a small red flag on a metal stake and pushed it into the ground then returned. “Heavy vehicle. Large tires. Good tread. I’d say a full-sized pickup carrying a heavy payload of some sort.”
“A person can tell all that from the tracks?” Owen asked.
“Not all guides, but I’ve been a tracker long enough that I’ve seen all kinds of tire tracks and am sure of my assessment.” He looked at Mackenzie. “Can we split up and you follow the tire tracks while I keep on Owen’s shoe prints? You’ll be in eyesight the whole time. If either path veers off we’ll get back together and follow one trail at a time.”
“Sure,” she said.
“Just let me know if anything seems to change.”
“Like what?”
“Like if the tracks deepen or lighten. That would tell us if they offloaded or added to the truck cargo. And if you see footprints. That kind of thing.”
“Roger that.” She gave him a quick salute and headed for the red flag.
They moved on. Stopping. Scanning. Searching. Walking some more. And more.
“Hold up.” Ryan squatted.
Mackenzie crossed the area to join them.
“Footprints are changing,” Ryan said.
