Page 23 of Rangers Mountain Rescue
I turn back to her.
“Does he usually head somewhere when he wanders?”
She shakes her head.
“Sometimes he thinks he’s going to the barn. Sometimes he thinks he’s walking to town.”
Buddy suddenly pulls against Dylan’s grip.
Hard.
His ears are locked toward the tree line.
Dylan looks up.
“He smells Grandpa.”
Wolf kneels beside the dog.
“You think he can track him?”
Buddy whines and pulls again.
“That’s a yes,” Saint says.
I look at Aspen.
“Does grandpa respond to his name?”
“Harold,” she says quickly. “Harold Gray.”
I nod.
“Alright.”
Then the old rhythm slides back into place.
Command.
“Wolf, you take the west trail.”
“Saint, sweep the ridge.”
“Rylie, stay with Aspen and Dylan.”
They move instantly.
No hesitation.
No questions.
Aspen watches them go, something like disbelief crossing her face.
“You guys… do this a lot?” she asks quietly.
I glance toward the mountain.
“Something like that.”
