As Sherlock pulled her, she glanced around. The leaves on the trees around her were gorgeous. There was nothing like fall in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains. At least, in her estimation.
She had worked as a park ranger here at the George Washington National Forest for the past five years, and it was her dream job. She’d always been an outside girl, preferring to spend time with nature rather than people. Being out here made her feel peaceful, and peace was something hard to come by at times. Especially lately.
Before sadness could grip her, she turned her attention back to Sherlock.
“Careful, boy,” she called.
The trail narrowed, and a steep drop-off on one side gave them only six inches of slippery rock to cross to get to where they were going. Sherlock had no problem, but Autumn tried to brace herself. Heights had never been her favorite, and the fifty-foot drop made her feel light-headed.
This part of the mountain was no place for a rookie. A gorge cut through the area, and the Meadow Brook River rushed the depths there. If one wasn’t paying attention, they might lose their step on one of the cliffs or rock facings. It still amazed Autumn how many people tried to hike this terrain, even without the proper gear or experience.
Kevin used to love exploring this section of the national forest. He’d loved adventure—but only when safety precautions were taken first.
At the thought of him, Autumn’s heart squeezed with grief. It was hard to believe he’d been gone for three years now. A heart attack had taken him from this earth but not from her memory. He would always be there with her.
His death was just one more reason she liked being out here. Everyone she’d ever loved was gone. Her parents had died in a car accident when she was a teenager. Then her husband had passed away.
All she had now was Sherlock. Autumn had found the dog on the side of the road as she traveled home from Kevin’s funeral. The canine was like a godsend in her time of need.
Though Autumn had previously been a ranger, she and Sherlock had gotten their certification in search and rescue. Sherlock had been a natural and had become a valuable part of her team.
Autumn and Sherlock had been inseparable ever since.
“What do you smell, boy?” Autumn watched as the dog’s nose remained close to the ground.
Sherlock continued to tug her through the trees. Autumn watched her steps, careful not to lose her footing on the slick leaves that lined the forest floor. As she moved, a chilly breeze swept over the landscape—a breeze that smelled like rain.
The storm was coming. Maybe it was even closer than forecasters had predicted. They didn’t have a lot of time to waste. Thirty more minutes, and Autumn would head back to the Park Service SUV she’d left in the small lot off the windy mountain road. There was nothing else there but a portable toilet, a small display with a map and a wooden box for donations.
Sherlock continued to pull on his leash, leading her through the foliage. But Autumn’s muscles pulled tighter across her back with every pace forward.
Steps sounded ahead of her. Twigs broke. Leaves crackled.
Autumn paused. Sherlock’s tail straightened, and his hair rose.
Her hand went to her gun, and she braced herself, preparing for the worst.
She held her breath, waiting to see what creature might emerge from the trees in the distance. Whatever it was, it sounded big. A bear? She’d seen her fair share of the beasts out here. She liked admiring them, but only from a distance.
Sherlock let out a low growl.
A moment later, someone darted from the trees. A big man with broad shoulders and short dark hair. He wore jeans, a thick vest and a knit cap.
As soon as Autumn saw his face, she knew he wasn’t trouble. Instead, he was in trouble.
Sherlock began barking at him, and the man froze. His breaths seemed shallow. Too shallow. His cheeks were flushed, and his gaze unsteady.
“Heel, boy,” she told the dog. Caution lined her voice.
Sherlock quieted and waited for her instructions, but his eyes remained on the stranger. Autumn quickly studied the man. Just looking at him, she didn’t see any visible injuries. But the look in his eyes told a different story.
“I’m Ranger Autumn Mercer,” she called. “Can I help you?”
The man continued to heave with exertion. “I’ve been trying to find help. It’s my brother. He broke his leg, and I don’t have any cell service out here. He needs help.”
Based on the desperation in his eyes, the break had been bad. The man was clearly concerned.
Autumn glanced above her at the clouds that were becoming darker and darker by the moment. She didn’t have much time to make her choice. She would radio for backup, she decided.
Then she would go and try to help the man herself.
Because if his broken leg wasn’t dangerous enough, the approaching storm was.
Before the thought had time to fully develop, gunfire rang out in the distance.
Her back muscles tightened.
It appeared a trifecta of trouble had found them. Autumn braced herself for whatever waited ahead.
Derek Peterson’s lungs tightened, and his gaze swerved to the park ranger’s as the sound of someone shooting echoed across the mountains.
“It’s probably hunters,” she said, her voice as calm and steady as her gaze.
“I wasn’t aware people hunted around here in October.” He wasn’t an outdoorsman himself, but he knew that the season didn’t start until November.
“They’re not supposed to, but that doesn’t always stop them.” Ranger Mercer plucked her radio from her belt. “I’ll call it in, along with a request
