Page 25 of When the Silence Breaks

“You were a million miles away. I thought we were going to the outfitter’s, but you passed it.”

Had he? “Thanks for pointing that out.”

“Are you going to be this distracted the whole time? Because that could be dangerous for the both of us.”

He steered around the block and pulled up to the back of the establishment. Put the Silverado in park, turned off the ignition, then looked at Sarah.

“Oh. You didn’t pass it. You planned to park in the back.”

“Yes, but you’re right, I was distracted.”

He stared at her deep brown eyes and lost himself for another breath or two. Sarah could be a distraction all on her own, without all the added baggage and drama. “I won’t let that happen again.”

He got out and walked around the front of the vehicle to the back door of Pine and Peak Outfitters, for which he had a key, and she joined him. Staff and trusted guides always used the back entrance.

Ryder unlocked the door and held it for Sarah, allowing her to enter ahead of him. “You head to the coats section and find what you need while I gather the gear.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” Then she went straight for the coat section on the far side of the store.

He headed for the counter up front.

Sarah had no idea how focused, how intense, he could be, and she probably wouldn’t like it when she found out.Ifshe found out. She was wholly unprepared for what lay ahead, but then again, he was probably at least partially unprepared, based on the lack of information she’d shared. He wished he had a clue what was really going on, but he suspected this could be bigger than he imagined.

It could be bigger than either of them could handle.

But never too big for Maisie Trent. He smiled at the feisty, pint-sized older woman who ran Pine and Peak with Cleo Taggart. Co-owners. She was barely five feet tall, but everyone knew not to underestimate her. She taught the local gun-safety and shooting classes and had a notebook brimming with certificates to prove her worth.

The scent of canvas and pine and old wool filled the air. Maisie came around the counter and smiled.

“Ryder, I hadn’t seen you in here for going on two years, and then you show up a few weeks ago, and here you are again today. I can’t tell you how much this warms my heart. What can I help you with?”

“I’m heading back up.”

“Once, a few years ago, you probably knew Blackspire’smoods better than anyone. Not saying you don’t now, but just in case, she’s been restless lately.”

He didn’t need to go up the mountain to notice. Any kind of shifting and trembling in the region could be related to that ancient volcano, just one of many in the Cascade Range that was part of the Pacific Ring of Fire. He moved toward the gear wall and scanned the shelves. “I’m aiming for a spot above the tree line at about sixty-five hundred feet. Maybe more. Unmarked and no trail. Could be avalanche debris where I’m headed.”

Maisie arched a brow, and that alone made her slim, old figure seem formidable. “Should be about twelve to sixteen miles round trip. If you keep up a good pace, that’s ten to twelve hours up on the mountain—give or take.”

Ryder knew all this, but Maisie liked to talk it out to make sure that nothing was ever miscalculated. She probably saved a lot of lives. “Let’s get enough food and water for four days, maybe five.” He didn’t plan on staying that long.

She eyed him. “Weather’s going to turn.” She shook her head, probably knowing she couldn’t talk him out of it.

He didn’t want to add that his mysterious new friend was going too, hence double the food and water. “A glacier’s up that way. You need crampons and an ice ax?”

I hope not. “Set me up with a lighter set.” He had one at home already.

“I heard from Dean that”—she cleared her throat and gave him an apologetic look—“snowpack’s shallow, but it’s already turned icy at the ridgeline.”

Good old Dean. Which ridgeline of the many? “I know.” Just to make her feel appreciated, he added, “What’s he say about the weather?”

“The window is narrow, and I don’t pay it a lot of attention considering it can change fast even on a clear day.”

Ryder had been awake all night thinking through everything. Including trying to reason with himself, talk himself out of it. But the intruder in his home, the theft in his shop, might have sealed the deal for him. That and Sarah Ellison’s need to answer the injustice of her brother’s death—and that resonated with Ryder and pinged something inside of him. His father should still be alive, but he’d died. Maybe it hadn’t been murder, but it felt wrong, all wrong. He couldn’t go back and relive that day and change what happened, but at the very least, he could do this for Sarah.

The brass bell over the door jingled, letting Ryder know someone else had entered in the front, but he remained focused on Maisie and filling his list. She knew a good customer when she saw one and kept her focus on Ryder.

He smiled to himself. Sarah had disappeared in the apparel section, thickly packed with summer sales racks and winter coats. The works. He’d told her to look for a nice warm jacket. He only caught a glimpse of her brown hair as she held up a plain brown parka. He wouldn’t have pegged her for that. Then again, if he knew anything about her, it was that she wanted to blend in, not come out dressed in a hot-pink outfit sure to draw attention.