Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 136507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
While wolf sightings aren’t common, especially during the day, they do occur, and living on a bison ranch in the winter ups the odds.
“Yeah, I can’t shoot anything,” Logan reminds him with a stern look. “Not unless I want to go back to prison.”
“Shit, I forgot.” Jon leans over the boards, eyeing me. “Hey, you’re not working today. Why don’t you go with him?”
Me? “How did I get pulled into this?”
“You’re a cop! No one’s gonna say a thing if you’re out there with Logan and you’re the one carrying. Take my rifle.”
“I’ve got my own, thanks.” My father left me two, along with a shotgun that my grandfather owned. I clean them once a year in the fall but otherwise they sit in the safe, untouched.
“Come on!” Jon pushes. “From what Annie says, you two used to run around these fields all day long, even in the winter.”
“That’s not the only thing they did,” Jack says under his breath, just loud enough.
Holt offers his nephew a glare before saying, “We could use your keen investigative skills, McAllister. You always were good at tracking animal prints.”
“I’m sure even Egan could follow any tracks a pack this size left in the snow.”
In all this, Logan hasn’t said a word, for or against the idea of me accompanying him.
I look up at him now, trying to decipher his thoughts.
“You’re welcome to come with me, but I’m sure you have other things to do,” he says, his eyes unreadable.
An invitation and an excuse served up in a single sentence. It’s Saturday and my day off. I was going to beg my massage therapist to squeeze me in this afternoon. Other than household chores and reviewing video of the Bale House from the night of Holly’s disappearance for the hundredth time, I have no plans.
Logan did say he needs to talk to me, and I sense he doesn’t want anyone else overhearing. I can’t think of a better place to talk openly than out there, surrounded by nothing but hundreds of acres of snowy landscape.
“I’ll need fifteen minutes to get dressed.” My stomach flips as I commit to a morning alone with him.
An unmistakable flash of excitement dances in his eyes. “I’ll gas up.”
The low hum of an approaching snowmobile engine sounds as I’m lacing up my boots, earning Duke’s warning grumble.
“It’s okay. It’s just Logan,” I say, though his ears stay perked, listening intently as the engine cuts.
Just Logan. As if it’s inconsequential that he’s here. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Heavy footfalls stomp outside. I rush to open the door before Logan has a chance to knock, but it doesn’t stop Duke from scrambling to his feet and rushing over, his deep barks echoing through the house.
The hulking figure in full snow gear and helmet stands on the stoop. “It’s me. Relax.” Logan offers his hand to sniff before ruffling the old dog’s head.
With his task satisfactorily accomplished, Duke moseys back to his bed.
Logan’s eyes roam the interior of my house in wonder. “Wow,” he says after a beat, “Just like I remember it.”
“Mostly.” I convinced my mother to let go of the beige walls for a warm gray, and our downstairs bathroom faucet exploded, earning a remodel. But for the guy who spent as much time here as I did next door, those details probably don’t matter. “I’d invite you in, but I’m about to die from heat stroke.” Sweat is already building under my thermal underwear.
Something glints in Logan’s eyes as they linger on the kitchen. “Hey, did your dad ever find out about that hole in the roof?”
“Oh my God.” I smile as a memory stirs. Logan used to sneak up to my bedroom late at night using the small kitchen window gable for footing. Unbeknownst to us, there was a rotten part, and his foot went right through it. Thankfully it wasn’t visible from anywhere but my bedroom window and so, while my parents were out during the day, we scrambled to fix it as best we could with scraps of plywood and roofing cement. Jay helped.
“They had the roof redone a few years later and I’m pretty sure he figured it out.” But my father didn’t say anything to me because it would mean bringing up Logan, and he tried really hard to not bring up Logan with me for any reason.
“I remember being so worried about what your dad would think of me after that.” Logan shakes his head, then snorts as he moves toward the sled. “Life is ironic, isn’t it?”
“It’s definitely something.” I grab my insulated gloves and tug the door closed behind me as I eye the two-seater. “We’re riding together?” Because I know for a fact there’s a second perfectly good snowmobile in the barn.
“Jon doesn’t want us causing the herd too much stress with two engines. I’ve already gotten a lecture about my speed and keeping distance.”