Page 12 of Midnight Hunter
Her brows knit together in a tight frown. “Tina and Dustin are my clients.”
“Yeah, but you’re a wedding planner. Search and rescue isn’t part of the package deal.”
A quick smile flashed on her face. “You don’t know that. Maybe I write a line item in for some of my more adventurous clients.” She held up a hand, tracing a line in the air. “In the event either party gets lost in the wilderness, I, Lana Decker, Wedding Planner Extraordinaire, will mount a search party and haul you back to civilization so you may pledge yourself for eternity to your betrothed.”
I couldn’t hold back the chuckle. “There are probably some who need that clause added.”
“That’s no lie. And not because they go off and do things like this.” She waved a hand at the forest. “Some of them get cold feet and decide to go white-water rafting or mountain biking the day before as a sort of last hurrah.”
“Seriously?” My wife would have killed me if I took off the day before our wedding. There wouldn’t have been one, because I’d be six feet under.
Truthfully, it had never crossed my mind to do such a thing. Cara had been my world, and I couldn’t wait to marry her.
But that was a lifetime and a lot of heartache ago.
“Yep. I’ve stopped more than one groom from disappearing from wedding preparations. A couple of brides, too, actually.”
“Maybe you should add that feature, then.”
She chuckled. “Maybe.”
“You deflected well with your answer, but you didn’t tell me why you agreed to go with me,” I continued.
The look she gave me would have withered a lesser man. “Would you have gone if I said no?”
I lifted a shoulder, biting back a smile, unwilling to admit anything to her.
Her eyes narrowed, and she paused for a moment before continuing. “Anyway, even if you hadn’t insisted and only askedme to come, I probably still would have said yes. Despite all the preparation left for Tina and Dustin’s wedding, there won’t be one if we don’t find Dustin. I was also a bit worried Tina would find a way to come out here herself if I didn’t go. She wants regular updates and knows she wouldn’t get them unless someone she trusted was here.”
“I’m relying on that connection to get us information if we need it, too, don’t forget.”
“I know.”
Falling into an easy silence, we continued our trek through the undergrowth, following the path of the river as we headed northeast toward Dustin’s camp. After an hour, I found the first sign that someone had recently been in the area.
Pausing, I crouched to look at a patch of dirt near a fallen tree.
“What did you find?” Lana came up next to me, a curious frown wrinkling her forehead as she looked down.
“A boot print.” I pointed at the ground, where someone had left a partial imprint in the loamy soil. “It’s a couple days old.”
“How can you tell?”
“The rounded and slightly feathered look to it. Whoever left this climbed over this tree trunk.” I rose, patting the tree. Bits of bark crumbled off in my hand. “We’re not too far from Dustin’s camp. Maybe another hour, so they could be his. Let’s keep walking.”
Moving around the root ball sticking out of the ground, we continued along the faint game trail. I found a few more partial prints, both going northeast and southwest. Whoever walked this trail had done so more than once.
The river curved, and so did the landscape, leading us through the valley between the mountains. As we walked, the terrain grew steeper. Along the banks, the ground dropped off sharply to the river below. Tree roots stuck out of the dirt, thepines attached to them clinging to the hillside for dear life. Some of the exposed roots looked fresh, which meant a lot of water had come through here recently. That didn’t surprise me. We had a snowy winter, and temperatures had been consistently warm lately.
That also meant the ground was likely saturated. Any rain or snow that fell with this system moving in wouldn’t have any place to go except into the rivers. This section of the river wasn’t any place I wanted to be in for long.
Thankfully, the wash basin didn’t stretch on forever, and soon, we were back on more flat land, staring at a fork in the river.
“Is this the eastern fork Dustin’s fiancée talked about?” I asked.
“Maybe. You’re the expert. Is it?” she retorted.
Offering her a dry look, I motioned to her backpack. “Let me see that map.”
