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  He crossed his ankles and stuck his hands into his pockets. His casual, easy demeanor put me at ease. “Sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did the bet have anything to do with your job search?” he asked. My shoulders tightened.

  “Uh, yes. And no.”

  My mind felt like a sheet of black sandpaper. Gritty. Scratchy. Full of bumps. I didn’t want to tell him the truth. I’m thousands of dollars in debt, have nothing but a return ticket home to my name, and don’t know how I’ll make it through the summer.

  I couldn’t ignore the thought fluttering around my head. Justin has a lot of money. Maybe he could loan it to you.

  No. I shuddered. I have some pride.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Not really. But thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  Atticus rolled onto his back, so I scrubbed his soft underbelly. The fire popped and crackled, casting Justin’s eyes in deep shadow.

  My thoughts unraveled. Jodie would call on Monday with job opportunities. With any luck, some of them would be open for the first of August, and I could sign a contract. It wouldn’t pay my credit card on time, but I’d stay at Adventura and fulfill my promise to the twins. Whatever ripple effect occurred, I would deal with it then.

  Going into debt had been my fault, not Mark and JJ’s.

  The sound of laughter rolled through the forest, washing over me. Having some kind of direction settled the lump in my chest.

  Justin and I sat in the comfortable warmth of the campfire, so close I could feel the rise and fall of his chest. The scent of burning pine drifted through the air.

  “You ready for a nap?” Justin asked, jarring me from my thoughts. “I mean, I can see you’re getting comfortable and know you like taking siestas in the trees.”

  I shoved him in the shoulder with my own, failing to suppress a chuckle. His laugh rang out over the trees, banishing the sandpaper of my thoughts.

  Chapter 18

  Inadequate

  The seventh week of camp brought electric blue skies, marshmallow clouds, and the smell of sunscreen. Monday afternoon, I stepped out of my cabin after a short power nap and stretched my arms over my head with a yawn. A recipe for crazy milkshakes buzzed through my head. Chicken with ham and Swiss cheese would be the perfect complement.

  “Hey, Meg,” a voice called from behind me. “Is Atticus with you?”

  Justin jogged up. Sweat streaked the sides of his face and neck, saturating his t-shirt collar. His breathing came in erratic bursts. He doubled over, mopping the perspiration from his face with the back of his arm.

  “No,” I said. “He sat with me at flag ceremony this morning, but I haven’t seen him since. Everything okay?”

  Justin’s teeth sank into his bottom lip as he straightened, running a hand through his damp hair. He blew out a long breath. I tried to ignore the attractive elongation of his arm muscles. A light dusting of stubble shimmered on his jaw.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think so. He’s never been gone this long.”

  “How long?”

  “Hours. Three. Maybe four? I was occupied dealing with a water issue at the main office and thought he was with JJ, but JJ hasn’t seen him. I ran through all the campsites but found no sign of him.”

  The skin on the back of my neck prickled. Had he chased off a stray animal and lost his way back? Justin glanced over his shoulder as if expecting Atticus to trot up at any second. But a tense stillness descended on us instead.

  Justin let out a long, controlled exhale. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Atticus doesn’t just leave.”

  A buzzing sensation on my thigh interrupted my downward spiral. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see Jodie Renner’s name flash across the screen. My breath caught. Did she have a job for me? My thumb hesitated over the answer button before I shoved the phone back in my pocket. Jodie would have to wait.

  “Let’s spread out,” I said. “We can cover twice the ground together.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “You sure?”

  “Of course. Where haven’t you looked?”

  “Thank you,” he breathed. “Let’s start at the river. He spends a lot of time there. I’ll go west and follow it to the lake and around the back. You head east up the canyon. It’s not likely he went that way. He never has.”

  I nodded. “You got it.”

  Justin strode off in the opposite direction while I slipped behind the lodge. The gentle whir of the rapids grew louder as I approached the busy stream. Water rushed over rocks and boulders, churning into white foam. Nothing unusual caught my eye. Several dog prints decorated the riverbank, but they could have been from this morning.

  For fifteen minutes, I stuck close to the stream, wandering into the nearby glens of quaking aspens to shout Atticus’s name. The happy shrieks and sounds of camp faded as I moved along. No sign of Atticus lingered in the dirt. My radio crackled on my hip.

  “Justin for Meg, over.”

  “This is Meg.”

  “Anything?”

  “No sign so far.”

  “Me neither. Sione and Hollis haven’t seen him. I’m heading behind the lake. I’ll keep searching south.”

  “You guys playing hide and seek with Atticus?” JJ asked. “I want in. Just finished at the wall. I’ll ask at the rifle range.”

  Static overtook Justin’s reply as I worked further upstream, ducking a low-lying branch covered with moss. A divot in the soft mud caught my eye. I crouched next to it.

  “Grief,” I muttered.

  A perfect dinner-plate sized paw print of a bear was pressed into the soil. I bit my bottom lip and straightened. Maybe coming up the canyon alone hadn’t been a good idea. An itch to return crawled down my back. A twig snapped. I whipped around as a squirrel scampered into the bracken with an annoyed chitter.

  Imagining Atticus spending the night in the forest alone—if he was even out here—rallied my courage.

  “Girl power, Meg,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “Find Atty.”

  Despite my instinct to turn back, a niggling fear drove me on. I stepped on dried twigs, sang as loudly as I could, and veered away from the stream to call and listen. The lack of warbling birds made the forest feel naked and abandoned. On either side of the dense bushes, the canyon walls narrowed, growing steep and mossy beyond the scraggly pines. Boulder fields replaced the quaking aspens. My voice seemed to bounce off the rocks in an empty staccato. Thirty minutes of searching passed. I paused near a sapling, my boots soaked and calves flecked with mud.

  It’s not likely he went that way. He never has, Justin had said.

  But what if?

  With JJ, Justin, and possibly more of the staff searching by now, I could be spared to sneak a little further—just in case. The sun sank behind the crest of the mountain, coating the canyon in the first layer of early dusk. The radio static had faded into nothing; I’d hiked out of range. Another ten minutes passed. Disheartened, I let out a long sigh.

  “You wouldn’t come this far without a reason, Atty,” I murmured, stepping on top of a fallen tree to better scan a clump of trees at the bottom of a steep, rocky pitch. “Now I’m just wasting time. They may have already found you.”

  Resigned, I turned to go, and an unusual pattern on the ground caught my eye. A paw print. I leaped off the tree. The circumference was too small to be a bear’s but too big for a rodent’s. My breath caught. Definitely canine.

  The tracks moved away from the stream. I snaked alongside the slight indentations in the softened dirt with a hiccupping heart.

  “Atticus,” I called. “Atticus, come!”

  A half-bark, half-whimper issued from beneath a rotting tree. I skirted around a clump of patchy evergreens. A black patch of fur lay on the ground. I fell to my knees with a cry.

  “Atticus? Oh, Atty.”

  He lay on his right side, whining with every shallow exhale. Blood matted his ribs and belly where four slashes cut throug
h the fur. Black puncture marks riddled his front leg like something had tried to break it. He licked his lips and tried to stand. A yip of pain stopped him. The dried blood on his fur meant hours must have passed. I reached out and put a soothing hand on his neck, pressing him down with a gentle hand. Crimson stained the rocks and soil beneath him.

  “Whoa, boy. You’re all right now. You’re good. Just stay down.” My eyes darted around. No sign of another creature, but the heavy vegetation near the stream could hide many dangers. “Let’s get you home.”

  He calmed, laying his head back on the ground with a high-pitched cry. His eyes closed. I untied my jacket, draped it around his belly, hooked the radio to my neckline, and carefully grabbed him underneath his forelegs and hips.

  “Nothing but a clean and press, Megan,” I whispered, organizing my mind for a fluid, heavy lift. “Clean and press.”

  Atticus howled when I lifted him, ducked, and settled him on my shoulders in one seamless motion. My legs wobbled until I shifted his weight, finding my balance on the rocky terrain. He yipped and licked my hand, which held his back legs and uninjured foreleg in a firm vise.

  “All right, buddy,” I said. “Let’s get you home.”

  The idea of an aggressive animal lingering in the thick shrubs pressed me hard back toward the stream. Once there, I waded into the water and started back. Navigating the edge of the stream, picking my footfalls amongst unsteady dirt and roots, would be impossible with eighty pounds of Atticus on my shoulders. Darkness fell fast in the high mountains.

  It would be a long hike home.

  Within minutes, my toes numbed in the icy water. Atty’s blood, sticky and warm, soaked through the jacket and onto my neck. My arms, shoulders, and obliques smoldered like a bed of hot coals. Every time Atticus wriggled, the muscles in my hand cramped from holding so tight. I stumbled and fell to my knees often. My paranoia ran high—I studied every shifting shadow.

  “Easy boy,” I murmured, squatting to navigate a low-lying tree branch. The freezing water crept up my thighs. I clenched my teeth and sucked in a sharp breath. Every minute felt like a small eternity. Slowly, the rocky terrain gave way to trees. The rush of the water slowed as the stream split into smaller gullies again. The radio picked up more static. A thread of JJ’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Meg? We are … and … where … you?”

  Releasing my hold on Atticus to answer would be dangerous for both of us, so I let JJ’s voice continue, reassured that I was closing in on Adventura again. Atticus’s weight intensified once he stopped fighting. Instead of trying to get away, he went limp on my shoulders.

  I walked faster.

  Twenty minutes later, a voice calling through the trees caught my ear. Atticus groaned but didn’t stir. A familiar man bun popped into view ahead of us. I stopped mid-stride.

  “JJ!” I cried. “We’re over here.”

  “Meg! I’ve be—what the hell happened?” He reared back, eyes widening. Seconds later, he leaped into the stream and high-stepped toward us. “Tell me that’s his blood and not yours.”

  “It’s his.”

  “Let me take him.”

  “No! I’m not sure how bad his injuries are. The more he moves, the more he seems to bleed. He’s calm. I can finish this.”

  JJ’s eyes trailed to my shoulders. He nodded, lips pressed into a firm line. “Okay. I’ll try to find a good path. Just follow me.” He grabbed his radio and spoke into it. “This is JJ. Found Meg. She has Atticus. Meet us at medical.”

  “Roger,” Justin replied. “Heading there now.”

  JJ and I waded out of the stream and onto the thin animal trail he’d been following. Stepping on solid ground with numb feet felt strange, like my feet didn’t exist and only the hard bones of my leg remained. We burst into the medical cabin fifteen minutes later. It lay empty, though the sounds of campers echoed in the background. I carefully knelt while JJ threw a towel on the cot.

  “Easy, pup,” JJ crooned as he slid Atticus off my shoulders and straight onto the cot. I collapsed back, drawing in a deep, unburdened breath. Atticus released a pathetic bark, his eyes rolling. I scrambled back into action, put a hand on his head, and whispered until he calmed.

  “We need to take him to a vet,” JJ said. He reached down to help me up, his gaze lingering on my shoulders. “You look pretty intense, Meg.”

  When I reached to my neck, my hand came away smeared with blood. Despite the freezing stream, sweat trickled down my face and back. My fatigued muscles felt like Jell-O once they relaxed.

  “Hold him there,” I said. “Don’t let him lick the wounds. I need to clean off the dried blood and see what we’re dealing with.”

  JJ caressed Atticus’s head while I grabbed a bottle of sterile water and ripped open a package of gauze. The cabin door slammed open. Justin tore inside, Mark on his heels.

  “What happened?” Justin asked, rushing to the cot. JJ stepped back. Atticus lifted his head and whimpered, nuzzling his face into Justin’s hand with a continuous, low cry in his throat.

  “Meg found him up the canyon,” JJ said. “Looks like he was attacked.”

  Mark clapped Justin on the shoulder. “I’ll go for your Jeep, man. We need to get him into Jackson City. JJ, call Dr. Williams at the emergency vet clinic. Let her know we’re coming.”

  While Mark and JJ bolted away, I draped soaked gauze across Atticus’s wounds and slowly peeled the fur away. Justin swallowed, running his hand over Atticus’s face in long, soothing strokes.

  “How does it look?” he asked. I crouched next to the cot, dabbing carefully. The deepest wounds reflected a shining, crimson darkness. No sign of bone. No copious amount of blood to indicate that a major vein or artery had been damaged.

  “I’m no dog expert … but I think he’ll be okay. Long recovery. Lots of stitches. But as long as nothing internal is going on, I’m hopeful.”

  Justin pressed his forehead against Atticus’s and let out a long breath. I saturated more gauze and draped it over the wounds to cover them in the truck. Justin’s eyes roved over me, lingering on my bloodied neck and shoulders.

  “You’re all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I met his gaze for the first time. “I’m fine.”

  “Did you see what it was?”

  My mind strayed back to the possible bear sighting that weekend. “No, but I think it was a bear. I saw some paw prints halfway to Atticus. Maybe he was chasing it off? He’s probably a hero, preventing it from coming any closer.”

  He swallowed, nodding. The crunch of tires on gravel prevented further conversation. Mark leaped out of Justin’s Jeep and pitched the keys to JJ, who was running back from the lodge where reception was best.

  “Dr. Williams is expecting us,” JJ said. “Let’s go.”

  We wrapped Atticus in a thick blanket. Justin lifted him, cradling him in his arms as he slid into the back seat and set Atticus’s head on his lap. Mark and I stepped back as the Jeep tore away in a cloud of dirt, JJ at the wheel.

  Mark hooked an arm around my bloody shoulders and slapped me on the back. “Good work, little blister. And thanks.”

  I recoiled. “Why are you thanking me?”

  Mark gazed at the haze of dust that lingered in the air. “Because you saved the dog, but you also saved the gladiator.”

  That evening, I snuck into Justin’s cabin with a pile of old blankets and made a bed for Atticus on the floor. The tangy scent of aftershave with the lightest whiff of vetiver lingered in the air. My stomach fluttered. I left before I started snooping through his stuff.

  Sleep remained elusive. Around ten, I slipped on my hiking boots and a warm jacket and trekked outside past the lodge. I caught sight of the distant flickers of dying campfires through the trees, accompanied by the sound of muffled laughter. The campers would be bedding down soon, and the world would descend into the tranquility of a mountain evening.

  I turned onto the gravel road that led to the rifle ranges and walked halfway down i
t, then stopped. The sky unfurled like a bright canvas of glitter and velvet, filling the slot between the mountains with twinkling warmth. I stopped with a sigh and craned my head back until it hurt. Unable to tear myself away, I lay down on the road.

  So wild. So untamed. Just like the mountain wilderness. I felt small beneath the blinking lights, and for a moment, it felt good just to be a part of something big.

  My mind flashed back to Atticus and the fear in Justin’s eyes—and then to Jodie Renner’s missed call.

  I gasped.

  When I yanked my phone out of my pocket, only one bar of service came up. With any luck, I’d just be able to make out her message. I clicked through the phone to find two new voicemails. She must have called again.

  “Megan, this is Jodie. Listen … really good news … found a flight position with a really … hospital. New … expanding … There’s a problem … a … hours away … didn’t know if … move … Need to know … closes this evening. Call…”

  I closed my eyes, already feeling the truth deep in my gut. Too late. But I sat up and clicked to the next voicemail anyway. This one came through with more clarity.

  “Hey Megan, Jodie again. I waited late at work just in case you called, but I have to get to my son’s basketball game. Sorry we missed this opportunity.”

  The distant edge in her voice didn’t give me much hope for another chance. I deleted both voicemails and pushed the phone back into my pocket. Instead of bitter regret, a loose sense of relief and sadness tugged at me—I wouldn’t go back and change anything. Atticus was alive and safe. What else mattered?

  My thoughts fell into a whirling daydream of hanging out with Lexie again, having a boxing match with Traveler’s Credit Card, and the punchy feeling in my gut when I saw Atticus lying on the rocky ground. His whimpers would haunt me all night long.

  The sound of shifting gravel pulled me from my thoughts. When I tilted my head back, a broad-shouldered figure walked toward me, hands in his pockets. My stomach caught. Trailing ahead of him came the lightest hint of vetiver.

  Justin stopped next to me, head tilted back to study the night canvas. I wondered if he’d ask why I was lying on a dirt road in the middle of the forest, then zipped my jacket the rest of the way when I realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. Again.