“Did you two kiss and make up?” Naomi asked

“No.”

“Why not?”

Lindsey exhaled with annoyance. “I know you’re under a lot of stress, Naomi, so I’m making allowances. But do me a favor, would you? Back off.”

Naomi’s brows rushed together just as her twin brother’s did when he was upset. “Someone’s got to make you see sense!”

“Your timing’s lousy. I have to go out into that blizzard—with a crazy gunman somewhere nearby. Excuse me if my mind’s on my job right now.”

“Spare me the dedicated ranger act, Lindsey. I know you better than that.” Naomi paused. “I thought we were friends.”

Lindsey straightened, her eyes narrowed. “We were never friends.”

The other woman’s flushed cheeks acknowledged the truth of Lindsey’s words. “No, but later on, I wanted to be. I know I went about things wrong, but I needed my twin! I swear, Lindsey, I never meant for my relationship with Eric to damage yours. Or to cause bad blood between the two of us.”

Lindsey held up a restraining hand. “Naomi, I didn’t come back here to assign blame. Eric didn’t trust me. Whatever you said to him made no difference in that department.”

Dear Reader,

Many of you know that I love to write about my country’s national parks. Each park has its own traits—its own character. While some places are definitely “user-friendly,” others are not. The setting of this story, Yosemite Park in the dead of winter, can be formidable.

Yosemite is located in the four-hundred-mile-long Sierra Nevada. This is the main freshwater source for San Francisco and the Central Valley. But the huge volume of snow that ultimately provides water for California’s coastal population is also the scene of deadly winters. California isn’t all beaches and sunshine.

Only two parks in the United States have rangers who live in total isolation due to winter weather conditions. Yosemite is one; Alaska is the other. The heavy loss of life sustained by the Donner Party members is only one of many tragedies to occur in this snow-locked area. During the winter, these mountains are just as inaccessible today as they were in the 1840s, the time of the Donners.

I have taken some liberties by making the existing town of Lee Vining larger than it is and setting a fictional hospital, municipal airport and ranger office there. And in reality, Yosemite has only two rangers on duty in the winter, not four.

Today’s rangers must be mentally and physically self-sufficient to survive in a winter climate so harsh that—as in the Antarctic—even snowmobiles and helicopters can’t be relied upon. Rangers must also be able to protect and, if needed, rescue any visitors to the parks. Rangers who hold these jobs are very special people.

I hope you enjoy my story about Lindsey Nelson and Eric Kincaide. Welcome to winter in Yosemite! (And please visit my Web site at www.annemarieduq.com.)

Anne Marie

The Replacement
Anne Marie Duquette

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my fraternal-twin nephews, Richard and Patrick Ferraro. And to all cancer survivors, especially those in my own family.

Although this is a work of fiction, any resemblance to my old dog Ginger and my sister’s dog Rocky is purely intentional!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER ONE

Yosemite National Park, California

WINTER SNOW…FEBRUARY SNOW…killing snow continued to fall throughout the High Sierra as the rescue party advanced. Aluminum poles in hand, the three rangers probed the white depths in a straight grid pattern, searching for their missing fourth. Seconds ticked mercilessly away, even as the lead ranger, Eric Kincaide, listened to his homing beacon, trying to zero in on the battery-powered locating device all rangers were required to wear.

Neither he nor the other two rangers spoke of the irony of the situation. Tomorrow, following Eric’s orders, Keith Arroyo, alias “TNT” Arroyo, planned to set charges in this very area to trigger a controlled avalanche.

Controlled avalanche. Now, that was an oxymoron. Like walking corpse…or buried alive…

Eric glanced toward his twin, Naomi. The ranger team’s emergency medical technician had bitten through her lip. Eric noticed the tiny bloodred bead glittering under the noon sun, contrasting with the bronze of her cheeks. Naomi didn’t look up at his scrutiny. Her eyes remained focused on the massive amounts of snow beneath her probing pole.

Keith, however, lifted his head. “Of all the stupid things to do!” He spoke in a hissed whisper to avoid triggering any other slides. “Bad enough we’re supposed to find an armed felon and the child he’s kidnapped. Eva knew better than to use this shortcut! She’s probably got the dog killed, too. How are we supposed to find the missing girl now? Or find Eva without her dog?”

“Shut up!” Naomi hissed back. “Just—shut up!”

“That’s enough, both of you!” Eric checked his watch again, unable to help himself. The first ten minutes of searching were the most crucial for any avalanche victim. Sometimes you were given fifteen or maybe twenty, if the victim managed to make an air pocket around his or her face. After that, victims suffocated—if they weren’t already crushed to death by the weight of the snow…snow that could pack to the weight and density of thick, wet cement.

It’s been thirteen minutes already! Dammit, Eva, why couldn’t you follow the rules? This whole area was an avalanche waiting to happen! Keith and I both warned you to go around.

His tracking device pinged more loudly, the pings suddenly rushing closer together until they chimed a single urgent note.

At the same time Keith’s pole hit something firm. “Here! Here!”

Immediately the other two dropped their poles, fell to their knees and started digging. With gloved hands and folding aluminum shovels, all three followed Keith’s pole down into the cruel cold.

“It’s Ginger!” Naomi cried. The sandy-colored fur of Ginger, Eva’s specially trained search-and-rescue dog, contrasted sharply with the snow’s virgin white.

“I’ve got her collar,” Eric said after digging around the dog’s head. “I’ll pull, you two lift.”

The three braced, lifted and pulled. The golden retriever emerged from the snow, whimpering and coughing.

“She’s alive! You pedigreed bitch, you’re alive!” Keith brushed snow from the dog’s face as Naomi quickly shed her gloves and ran her hand expertly down the animal’s legs and across the body.

“Eyes and tongue look good!” Naomi grinned. “She’s had plenty of oxygen.”

“Come on, girl, let’s find your owner,” Keith urged.

“Ginger, search,” Eric commanded. “Find Eva.”

Ginger stood fast, signaled her find with a single whimper, then shook some of the snow from her coat.

“Come on, everyone, dig!” Naomi said, pulling her glove back on and bending over the hole with her folding aluminum shovel.

As Eric followed her example, premonition hit hard. His stomach lurched. Even before the three dug farther down to the motionless blue of Eva’s favorite jacket, even before Ginger sat and pointed her nose to the heavens to keen her death howl, Eric knew.

Eva Jenkins, the fourth member of their winter ranger team, was dead.

San Diego, California

The next day

LINDSEY NELSON PACED BACK and forth, the hem of her evening dress swishing as she continued to look for her date, peering through her apartment window every few minutes. A revival of The King and I, her favorite musical, had finally left Los Angeles to play at San Diego Civic Center. She’d been waiting for this performance for weeks, but Wade—the current man in her life—was late. Very late. Not only that, he had the tickets and she hadn’t eaten. Her stomach growled.

If Wade doesn’t show up soon, we’re not going to have time for dinner.

He’d called twenty minutes ago to say he was leaving work. Lindsey had made reservations at their favorite restaurant, a place with delicious fresh seafood and Napa Valley wines—but Southern California’s infamous rush-hour traffic could easily ruin the most carefully laid plans.

Maybe I should order some food. We can have a quick bite here before we leave. It’ll have to be pizza or Chinese…. Where is he?

Lindsey impatiently shoved her curtains aside once more, hoping to see Wade’s car in the parking lot. Definitely Chinese. I’m not eating pizza in this dress—and I’ll trade the chopsticks for a fork, too!

She reached for the phone just as it rang. With a quick grab, she answered. “Wade, where are you? It’s late!”

“I—” A pause. “Do I have the right number? Is this Ms. Lindsey Nelson? Ranger Nelson?”

“Sorry, I was expecting another call. I’m Lindsey.”

“Thank heavens. My name is Jack Hunter. I’ve been authorized by the Yosemite Ranger Station to contact you. Your office told me I could catch you at this number.”

“Catch is the right word. I’m on my way out.” Lindsey heard the familiar honk of Wade’s car outside her window. “In fact, my ride’s here,” she said, trying to stem her impatience. “How can I help you, Mr. Hunter?”

“Call me Jack. My job is to fill unexpected openings among high-risk ranger positions anywhere in the Historic Monument and National Park system.”

“Well…Jack, I’m not interested in moving anywhere,” Lindsey said. “Look, could I take your number and call you back?” she asked as Wade beeped again impatiently. “I’m really very late.” Normally Wade wouldn’t do anything this rude, but he was obviously trying to save time.

“Forgive me, but this is a matter of some urgency. We need a ranger up in Yosemite. Sadly, the opening’s come about because of a ranger down. Dead, I’m sorry to say.”

“Not Eric Kincaide?” Lindsey asked, her chest tight with fear. “Or his twin, Naomi?”

“A female—a dog handler named Eva. Did you know her?”

“No.” Lindsey drew in a deep breath, her chest still tight, but with sorrow, not fear. A ranger dead? How? Why? Lindsey listened in horror as Jack explained.

He concluded with, “As you know, Yosemite rangers are snowbound in the station during winter. We can’t fly anyone in due to the danger of avalanche. You’re a ranger without a dog, and we’ve got a dog without a ranger. You also have extensive experience in the snow. I understand you used to work in Yosemite.”

“Yes, but that was more than four years ago. And it’s been almost as long since I’ve worked canine search-and-rescue.” Since she’d stopped working professionally with dogs and given up cliff-climbing, she’d gone back to her teenage loves—surfing and scuba diving. At present she was a ranger at La Jolla Cove, the only state diving park in California and one of only two in the United States, the other in Florida. “I’ve stuck exclusively to diver search-and-rescue.”

“So I’ve been told,” Jack said briskly. “But we desperately need a replacement, Ms. Nelson. I know this is short notice, but it’s only until we open the park to the public and the summer ranger staff—maybe three months. Four, tops. I already cleared it with your present park supervisor. She assured me your regular position would be waiting when you return. Call her to confirm if you wish, then please call me back.”

“That’s not the point, Mr. Hunter. I’ve already told you, I’m not interested in transferring anywhere, not even for a few months.”

“I’ll be frank, Lindsey. We have a young child and her kidnapper at large in Yosemite. It’s her father—he escaped from jail. We won’t find them without a dog, and you’re the best chance we have of recovering the child.”

Immediately Lindsey’s attention focused on the conversation. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“I’m saying so now.”

Lindsey hesitated and regrouped. “Look, I want to help, but isn’t there anyone else? I don’t have enough winter gear left for a transfer,” Lindsey said uneasily, thinking of her present working wardrobe of swimsuit and dive gear. “I couldn’t pack in very much if I have to ski to the station.” Down below Wade beeped his horn again. Phone in hand, she hurried to the window and waved to him, holding up a finger and pantomiming Just a minute.

“You could use the equipment that belonged to the ranger you’re replacing. All you’ll need are the most basic personal items. She was about your size.”

Lindsey found herself being directed to a place she didn’t want to be, and suddenly realized that the man on the other side of the line was very good at directing reluctant rangers. “I don’t know. I’d prefer—”

“Not to use the dog and equipment of a dead woman? Ms. Nelson, excuse my frankness, but we can’t pack them out, and you can’t pack your own stuff in. I hope you don’t have a problem with this. We’re talking about a child’s life. We need to find her, and we need you to handle the dog. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“Oh, I think you would, Mr. Hunter,” Lindsey said, deliberately not using his first name. “I also imagine you don’t make too many friends in your position—railroading rangers—if you are indeed legit.”

“Call it whatever you want. And I’m legit.”

Lindsey took in a deep breath. “Before we settle on anything, let me explain something. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I left Yosemite because I couldn’t work with Eric Kincaide.” The man I loved. The man I was supposed to marry. The man who said he loved me. “I understand he’s still there. Believe me, I’m the last person he’d want to see. And I never got along with his sister, or she with me. In the interests of teamwork and harmony, especially under these circumstances, I’d suggest—”

“Ms. Nelson, we need you,” Jack Hunter interrupted. “Up in Yosemite, we’ve broken the record for the most snow in the Sierra Nevada since the Donner Party tragedy. This is a national park. During the winter it’s open to anyone who can trek in and out. We just lost a ranger—one of our own—to the snow, it’s so bad. What do you think is going to happen to the kidnapper and his hostage? Someone has to find them. He won’t turn himself into the police—he faces kidnapping charges, since his wife has sole custody, and he still has time to serve on domestic violence charges. The odds of finding them without a dog drop significantly—and we can’t use the dog without a handler. You used to work Yosemite in the winter. You know the area, the routine. And you know dogs. Believe me, I checked you out very carefully. Your father taught you canine search-and-rescue work. Your two sisters work with dogs. Your parents own a kennel, and breed and train law-enforcement canines. I understand you’re part of the family business.”

“Yes, but still…” Lindsey bit her lip and thought. The park maintained strict visitor quotas in the summer, but in the winter the conditions were too primitive for all but a skeleton staff of the most expert winter survivalists-skiers. Even the park horses and mules were trucked out before the snow hit. The bears hibernated, the antlered animals headed for lower country, and the birds flew south toward San Diego and Mexico. Very few species of animal life could survive the High Sierra in winter. Only a few had the skill to live in a land so frigid and snowbound that snowmobiles and helicopters were as useless as frozen water pipes.

“Ms. Nelson, there aren’t many rangers with your qualifications. Subtract those who are married or have children and can’t leave their families on such short notice, and you’re all I have left. And in these circumstances, the fact that your ex-boyfriend’s in charge is pretty irrelevant.”

“How did you…?” Obviously the gloves were off. Lindsey decided to follow suit. “Eric wasn’t just an old boyfriend.” Eric was more than that. We wanted to start a family. I could’ve had a son or daughter by now. Maybe both… “We were engaged to be married. His sister had a hand in our breakup—a very messy breakup. I haven’t spoken to either of them in the past four years.”

“I’ve been on the radio with Mr. Kincaide. He vouches for your competence. Says your arrival won’t be a problem for him if it isn’t a problem for you. His sister says the same.”

“You talked to Eric and Naomi?”

“Mostly Eric. Reading between the lines, I gather he’s willing to overlook any, uh, romantic grudges. He says he’d bet his life on your skills.”

Lindsey’s cheeks burned and her heart ached with a pain four years hadn’t dispelled. Too bad he didn’t bet on a future with me in it.

“Ms. Nelson, we need you. There’s no one else to ask. As I’ve said, our head ranger is willing to set aside his personal emotions to try to find the missing child. Rest assured, the two other rangers already stationed there are much too upset over the death of their co-worker to intrude on your past love life or present feelings about it. We have a child taken away from her mother by a madman of a father. He’s vowed to kill anyone who comes between him and his daughter.”

“Of course I’m worried about the child!”

“Good. Because right now, I badly need a replacement ranger who can handle a search-and-rescue animal in Yosemite. Are you willing to be that replacement?”

Lindsey closed her eyes. Four years, and she hadn’t been able to feel anything for another man even close to what she felt for Eric. Four years, and she still hadn’t made peace with the past. Wade was a good man and any woman would be happy to fall in love with him—with all the physical and emotional sensations that entailed—but she couldn’t. Wade wanted a wife, a family, a commitment, and he wanted Lindsey permanently in his bed. He’d hinted that he intended to ask her to marry him. Wade expected her to be ready with an answer, but Lindsey felt herself getting older, sadder, lonelier and more confused as the weeks and months went on.

It’s time to get over the past. I need to find out what went wrong with me and Eric—and to see if we can fix it. If we can’t…then it’s time to move on.

“I’m in,” she agreed. “Just let me touch base with my boss and family while you make the flight arrangements. Will someone be meeting me at the local airport?”

“It’s in Lee Vining, and yes, I will. Your connection will be in Fresno.”

“I can be ready sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“Tonight would be better. There’s a red-eye leaving San Diego at nine forty-five.”

“Sorry, that’s impossible. I need tonight.”

She heard Jack slowly exhale. “Fine. Tomorrow morning, then. No later. I’ll call you back with the final arrangements, and you can pick up your prepaid ticket at Lindbergh Field. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good evening, Ms. Nelson.”

“Same to—” The line was already dead. “You.”

Lindsey replaced the receiver just as a knock sounded on her door. Wade must have given up waiting. Her stomach now churned from nervousness, not hunger, and she hurried to let him in. She quickly explained why she’d been held up on the phone.

“You have to stay home and pack? For Yosemite?” His normally patient voice rose. “Why you?”

“Because there’s no one else. Because it’s my job. Because I couldn’t refuse when the pushiest supervisor I’ve ever met forced me into it.”

“Forget it! I don’t want you going back to Yosemite and that guy who dumped you at the altar!” Wade protested.

“We never made it to the— Wait a minute! How do you know about Eric?”

“Your parents told me. Your sisters told me. Your friends told me. Said he broke your heart. That you’re overly cautious now. That I need to be patient. I have been, Lindsey, but this is too much!”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Say no!”

“I can’t, not when there’s a child involved. It’s like an E.R. doctor refusing to come in for work when there’s a major catastrophe. And even if I did say no, I suspect this Hunter could’ve pulled rank and ordered me out there. I didn’t have a choice. I mean, it’s not like I’m happy about it!”

Wade peered closely at her. “Maybe not,” he said. “But I don’t trust this guy.” He reached into his suit coat to withdraw a jeweler’s box. “I was going to give this to you at dinner tonight.” He held it out to her.

Lindsey refused to take it. “Oh, Wade… Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

He opened the box containing the solitaire diamond, since she wouldn’t do it herself. “Can I put this on your finger?”

“Please don’t. I can’t say yes to marriage, yet.”

“You aren’t saying no, either,” he insisted.

“Let’s wait. I’ll know for sure when I come home. I’ll only be gone three or four months.”

“Four months—with that bastard,” Wade said, his face grim. “Let’s hope that’s long enough to get him out of your system.”

Four years hasn’t been long enough. But she couldn’t say that to Wade, any more than she could take his ring or be his wife.

Not now. Maybe not ever…

Pushy supervisor or not, deep inside Lindsey knew she couldn’t have stayed away, even if a child hadn’t been involved. Time to face the past—and decide on the future.

JACK HUNTER DOODLED on the pad of paper before him. Still on hold with the travel agency as they tried to arrange a flight reservation, he found a humorless smile twitching at his lips. Lindsey Nelson had been a harder nut to crack than most of the ranger replacements he contacted. But then, the best of the best were never pushovers, Lindsey included.

He studied the files before him with their official photos and stats. Eric Kincaide: age thirty, never married, with a master’s degree in parks and wildlife management from U.C. San Francisco. Six foot two, blue eyes, black curly hair and a lean muscled body that could traverse any winter terrain…. A powerful skier and hiker who had traveled and skied the world, skiing that included obtaining two gold medals for his country’s Olympic cross-country skiing and shooting team. Yet he always returned to his native home in Santa Clara county, near Yosemite. He was an excellent lead ranger, and no one blamed him for Eva’s death, not even privately. Anyone who died on Eric Kincaide’s team had screwed up big time. Period.

Eva Jenkins…young, pretty and dead. She hadn’t had the brilliant career of Eric or Lindsey, but was a solid worker and canine handler who’d somehow made a fatal mistake.

Naomi Kincaide accepted Eric as leader, despite their being the same age—and twins. She hadn’t started out as a ranger, the way her brother had. Earlier she’d worked in a hospital in San Francisco as an EMT, where she’d eventually met and married her husband, Bruce Palmer; she’d kept her own last name. When he died, she’d joined the ranger service and now worked as Eric’s EMT team member.

Enter Lindsey Nelson, tough as nails. Twenty-five, never married. An associate’s degree in athletics and sports, and school letters in softball, gymnastics, golf and tennis, she competed harder against herself than anyone else. Despite her long blond hair, green eyes and a trim package of feminine curves and lithe strength, one noticed her looks second, her self-assuredness first. Lindsey Nelson came from a family of women who thrived on challenge. She could climb mountains and sheer cliffs, including El Capitan, at three thousand feet the tallest unbroken cliff in the world. She’d also climbed to the top of Yosemite Falls, its twenty-four hundred feet making it the highest free-falling waterfall in the United States.

She had a talent with animals that other handlers envied. Obviously it ran in the family. Yet she’d given up dogs and climbing and winter sports for an equally flawless career as a rescue ranger at California’s underwater state diving park, La Jolla Cove in San Diego county, with fill-in stints as a lifeguard at Carlsbad State Park. Lindsey Nelson was multitalented and successful in all her endeavors—except when it came to her personal relationships with men.

Jack studied the photos of the two rangers. To his discerning eye, the two stubborn chins promised resistance to anyone or anything challenging them. Their faces showed intelligence, determination and more than a hint of steel. Admirable qualities on the job, but from a personality standpoint, Jack figured that as a couple these two were doomed from the start. Their impressive careers and daring rescues proved that neither of them accepted compromise. He doubted either knew the definition of the word.

That might work well for rescues, but not for romance. However, Jack Hunter didn’t care about old flames or bruised hearts when it came to a kidnapped child. He only cared that he’d filled the opening Eva had left—filled it with the best ranger available. Personal relationships weren’t Jack’s concern. He’d done what he was hired to do. As for anything else—including love and romance—the woman he’d chosen as Eva Jenkins’s replacement was on her own.

CHAPTER TWO

THE PLANE TOOK ITS REGULAR flight path north, high above and along the California coast. The green of the ocean contrasted with the beige of the shoreline and the dark greens and tans of the mountain deserts. So far, Lindsey had seen little snow, but she hadn’t been airborne long. She turned away from the window, pleased the two seats next to her were empty. She wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. Her farewell phone conversations with her parents and two sisters had been full of their warnings—to be careful in the cold of Yosemite, careful around Eric, and to be especially careful not to upset Wade.

It hadn’t been easy to say goodbye to Wade. He’d insisted on driving Lindsey to the airport, and had been as gracious, as loving as ever, but she knew he’d been hurt by her refusal to wear his ring. He’d become even more distraught when he learned how isolated she’d be at the ranger winter cabin.

“Can you at least give me your phone number?” he asked.

“I wish I could. There aren’t any phones. No cell phone service, either. No e-mail or snail mail. It’s strictly ham radio, Wade. The best you can do is phone any emergency news to Mr. Hunter, and he can radio it to me.”

Her boarding call was announced. “I guess this is it.” She’d reached for him to kiss him goodbye. When they parted, Wade took her hand and pushed the diamond ring onto her finger.

“If you won’t wear it as an engagement ring, consider it protection from the ex. If nothing else, he’ll keep his distance.”

Before Lindsey could protest, Wade had pulled her close for one more kiss, and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” Then he’d abruptly left. Lindsey stood alone with a ring on her finger, no Wade to return it to, and a loudspeaker blaring out the final boarding call for her flight. She could do nothing, but get on the plane.

Open seating was blessedly plentiful. Lindsey found herself a spot, put a pillow and blanket on the aisle seat to discourage the more sociable, and found herself reviewing recent events. The last-minute frenzy of filling out checks for her rent and utility bills in advance and addressing them for her older sister, Kate, to mail in the next few months had kept her mind off Eric and their history. Her younger sister, Lara, had promised to look after her apartment and water her plants. Her parents promised to look after Wade; a request she hadn’t made, but something they’d offered nonetheless.

Then came the check-in line and being searched by airport security, getting a decent meal inside the airport ahead of time in case the airline food was tasteless or skimpy—it later proved to be both—and takeoff. Lindsey politely answered the usual round of questions from the flight attendants in the negative. “Do you want a soft drink? A snack? Care to purchase a headset or cocktail?”

Eyes closed, Lindsey tried to set her thoughts in order.

Eva dead because of carelessness. That poor woman. And now I’m taking her room, her gear, her winter uniforms, her bed, even her dog. I doubt I’ll get much of a welcome from the dog—or Eric. Not to mention the other two rangers. I don’t blame them, though.

Eric must be devastated about this ranger’s death, she found herself thinking. As team leader, he’d always emphasized safety….

Eric, her ex-lover with the laughing blue eyes, the dark hair and the capability to surmount any and all obstacles—or so she’d thought. She’d only seen him devastated once before. The day their happiness ended.

Yosemite

Summer, four years earlier

LINDSEY NELSON sat dejectedly in her bedroom at her summer cabin. The wedding dress she was supposed to be wearing tomorrow hung unwrapped, untouched, in her closet. Her suitcases were packed for her honeymoon vacation, boating and hiking at Lake Tahoe, along with some easy climbing. The dress, the suitcases, the snorkeling equipment in their travel bag for the honeymoon—it was all waiting and ready. For nothing, it turned out.

She stared at the floor, unwilling to meet the gaze of the white-faced man standing before her. Just this time last week she’d thought her life perfect. Lindsey Nelson, year-round search-and-rescue ranger for Yosemite, had it all: a job she loved, a man she adored and her wedding day tomorrow.

But her last rescue had ruined that; one loss had triggered it all. Lindsey and Missy, her beloved golden retriever, had searched and found a missing five-year-old boy. Missy might have been getting on in years, but her nose and her determination to succeed was as strong as ever. Yesterday, after sunset, when the other searchers had given up for the day, Missy and Lindsey continued their search alone—and were rewarded for their efforts.

The boy had been found alive, but Missy’s great courage was no match for her advancing years. For the first time ever in their partnership, Lindsey knew Missy’s rescue days were over.

“It’s time to retire, girl,” Lindsey had said after rushing her to the vet. “Eric, I don’t know about going to Lake Tahoe for the honeymoon. The vet said Missy’s still very fragile. Maybe we could go to the coast, instead. She’d get more oxygen at the beach than at the higher altitude of Tahoe.”

“It’s too late to change our plans now,” Eric had replied. His large, capable hand stroked the dog’s head. “Maybe we should just board her at the vet’s and reevaluate her health after the wedding.”

A warning rang in Lindsey’s head. Reevaluate from Eric’s lips meant We’ll see, as in No way.

“I’m not going anywhere, and Missy isn’t going anywhere without me while she’s not feeling herself. I’m not leaving her side.”

“Even to get married?”

“We’ll still get married the day after tomorrow, just as we planned,” Lindsey said reasonably. “After that, the vet and I will…reevaluate the honeymoon plans.” Her choice of his favorite word to stall was deliberate.

Eric drew in a deep breath and changed tack. “Sweetheart, I know you love the mutt. She’s—”

“Her name is Missy!”

“She’s done great work over the years. You both have. But marriage means we should put each other first.”

“Then you should respect my wishes. I don’t want to leave Missy alone when she’s sick.”

Eric had been disappointed, but agreed to postpone their honeymoon for the time being. “I can wait for the honeymoon, as long as the wedding is still on,” Eric said. He closed the door to her room with the easy maturity that would soon earn the twenty-six-year-old rescuer his promotion to head ranger.

Twenty-one-year-old Lindsey had sighed with relief and considered herself lucky to have such a great guy in her life. But right now her dog needed her. She fixed Missy a special dinner with the vet’s new pills mashed and mixed in. Then they curled up in bed for the night, the woodstove blazing with heat for the invalid. Missy burrowed her nose against Lindsey, while Lindsey encircled the shaggy neck with her arm, her hand resting on Missy’s golden head.

Late that night, before the sun rose on her wedding eve, Missy’s brave heart quietly, painlessly stopped. Even in death, the nose that had saved so many lives remained snuggled under Lindsey’s loving hand.

Lindsey’s fellow rangers gave Missy an official funeral in the beauty of Yosemite that dog and handler had served so faithfully, and loved so well. Her family, in town for the wedding, attended. Pet and kennel owners themselves, they understood Lindsey’s pain. Eric had seemed understanding himself, until later when they all gathered at a local hotel for what was to have been the prewedding dinner.

“Are we all set for the ceremony tomorrow?” he asked.

Lindsey shook her head, tears starting again. “I can’t, Eric.”

He grew very still, as did the whole roomful of family and friends, including other rangers. “I think we should postpone the wedding,” she whispered.

“You mean…cancel.” His voice hadn’t sounded like her lover’s at all.

“No, reschedule,” she insisted. “I just need a day or two and then everything can go on as planned. I’m so sorry, Eric…everyone. I just can’t…” Her voice broke. “I hope you understand.”

He had, at first. He’d been comforting, loving and compassionate—until that evening when Naomi, who had never approved of Lindsey for her beloved twin, had used her influence with Eric.

That influence was considerable.

Lindsey had overheard the end of one argument. “For God’s sake, Eric, Lindsey knows what our work schedules are like! Yours and mine and hers. She’s a park ranger! She also knows this park is booked two years in advance. Not to mention plane reservations and rental car reservations and the tight planning it required to get everyone flown in. This is going to throw everything into one big mess. Believe me, twin, Lindsey doesn’t want you to delay the wedding, she wants to cancel it. She’s scared. Her dog’s death is a perfect excuse to call it off. She’s been dragging her feet all the way to the altar.”

Eric had used those same arguments later that evening in private.

“But…you said you were okay about this,” a shocked Lindsey had said. “It’s only for a day or two.”

“I thought it over, and I’m not.”

“You mean your sister thought it over, and she’s not,” Lindsey had accused him. “You always take her side over mine! Dammit, Eric, I warned you about this. She’s never liked me. She’ll never like anyone who takes you away from her, and if she has to lie to keep you, she will!”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not! First thing she did after her husband died was come running back to you! Both your parents are alive, yet suddenly she has to be a park ranger herself.”

“She’s right about one thing. You have been dragging your feet about this wedding,” Eric accused.

“Damn right, but not because of you…because of this very thing! Naomi’s acting like our marriage is her business, and you two are a package deal. Well, I want to marry you, not your sister!”

“So now my family isn’t good enough for you?”

“I am not trying to call off the wedding. Naomi’s the one trying to end our plans. Why can’t you see that? Marriage is supposed to be based on trust between two people—not three! Who do you believe more, her or me? Choose!”

Eric’s eyes narrowed. “Is this an ultimatum?”

“It’s the simple truth,” Lindsey stated. “Naomi sees me as competition for you, and she’s jealous as hell. She doesn’t know me, or care to know me. All I want to do is say goodbye to my dog and not bring that sadness to our wedding. Or to the honeymoon, either. We can still go, now that Missy’s…” She swallowed hard. “You should take my word, not Naomi’s. And if you think she’s an expert on me, then you’re a fool! I’m rescheduling our wedding for the day after tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother. The wedding’s off,” Eric had said. He stood up so abruptly the chair behind him tipped and crashed to the floor. Those were the last words Lindsey ever heard from him, then or in the four years that followed.

Yosemite Valley

Replacement day one, the present

THE SHEER FACE of Half Dome, Yosemite’s massive rock of granite, reflected the sun’s light downward to the valley. There it bounced against the brightness of the snow and reflected upward again, illuminating everything with brilliant clarity. Lindsey stopped in the snow to adjust her sunglasses and take a breather. She slid her pack off her shoulders absorbing in the beauty of the area.

Already she’d covered more than half the distance toward the rangers’ winter lodgings. Her flight yesterday had landed smoothly, she’d been met as promised by Jack Hunter—been outfitted in gear, including a radio, and put up in a local motel in Lee Vining for the night. Early this morning, Jack had delivered her via truck and then snowmobile to Yosemite’s rear entrance from the Tuolumne River side. Amid the glittering snow of the high country, Lindsey said goodbye to her superior, and from there skied off toward her old workplace.

I never realized how much I’ve missed this, she thought to herself. And missed Eric. To Lindsey, Eric and Yosemite were forever linked in her heart. It made her travel easier and faster than she would have supposed possible. Once she made it to the top of the pass, she took another minute to rest.

Lindsey reached for a trail bar and her thermos of hot chocolate. Since she’d refused to accept and train a new rescue dog after Missy’s death, she’d traded the canine handler spot in Yosemite for the warmer parks in Southern California; it was where she was originally from and where her family still lived. She’d quickly found a new position with the park system, thanks to her surfing and diving skills, and went back to helping her parents around the kennels in her spare time. Being around Eric had been out of the question four years ago. He wouldn’t even see her to take back his ring. She hadn’t wanted to return it, but felt obligated to do so. She’d left it with the former head ranger; Eric hadn’t been awarded that spot until a year after she’d left.

Now she’d come back to Yosemite—Eric’s home—again. A sad smile crossed her face. With hindsight, she realized she and Eric had more problems than just the death of a dog or the jealousy of a twin. Eric led with his head, she led with her heart, and neither seemed to find any middle ground except in bed. They were young then. Too young, perhaps. They should’ve talked things out—would have talked things out if Naomi had stayed out of it.

Both of them were close to their siblings. If their situations had been reversed and Kate or Lara had suggested that Eric wasn’t good for her, she would’ve taken their words very seriously, indeed. But she wouldn’t have called off the wedding—that much she knew.

Lindsey stuffed her once-short blond hair back under her thick woolen hat. Not having to contend with Yosemite’s more primitive plumbing, which made simple hygiene a chore, she’d let it grow long and thick.

Her breath came more heavily than she liked. She was still fit and trim, but four years of living at sea level had hindered her blood’s ability to process the high-altitude air. Lindsey reached for a Diamox pill and washed it down with the hot chocolate. The medication was needed twice a day to prevent high altitude pulmonary edema, which could kill. An easy physical pace for the next few weeks would be required until her body produced more blood cells and adjusted to the higher altitude. The rangers’ winter quarters were at the highest level of Yosemite—the fabled High Sierra that had taken lives from the earliest Native Americans to the tragic Donner Party, and more recent victims, like Eva.

To live on the edge of survival brought out the best or the worst in people. Sadly, Eva, who had replaced Lindsey, hadn’t made it. But for Lindsey, true Nature with a capital N brought out the best in her. She thrived in the Sierra, and didn’t see death within the snow, but glorious life. She prayed Eric still took joy in his surroundings. Despite their breakup—a breakup he’d said she’d wanted—she’d never wished him anything but happiness and health. She still wished that for him.

As Lindsey munched on her snack, she mentally reviewed the three rangers she’d soon share a cabin with.

Eric she already knew. A true wilderness expert, a throwback to the early California mountain men and climbing guides he was descended from, Eric was at home in the High Sierra. Four years ago, he’d been a delightful combination of his intelligent father’s outdoor ways, his educated mother’s handsome looks, and his own brand of wit, charm and courage. All knew him as a gifted expert on climate with an uncanny sense of snow prediction and ability to navigate in any weather. He usually read people just as well—except for Lindsey.

I wonder if he’s still the same man….

The second ranger, Eric’s twin sister, Naomi, probably hadn’t changed a bit. She and Eric were instantly identified as siblings; their hair and eye color, even their skin tone and facial features, were so similar, their relationship was unmistakable. Naomi was probably as opinionated, bossy and possessive as ever. She rarely stayed away from her twin for long. Her husband, Bruce Palmer, had been killed in a car accident, and she’d returned to her twin for comfort. She’d qualified for a Yosemite ranger position at about the same time Lindsey started working with Eric. From what Jack Hunter had mentioned in a later conversation, Naomi was still working as a ranger and busily finishing up her master’s thesis on Sierra Nevada botany. A herbalist and botanist, and the team member with the EMT certification, she was usually found deep in her books and research. Lindsey often felt Naomi would never have left her former hospital job for ranger work if her husband hadn’t died.

Naomi had always been more interested in her studies than in the people around her. Although twins, brother and sister were opposites, with Naomi quiet and somewhat pessimistic, Eric openly sociable and cheerful. They hardly ever disagreed on anything—except Lindsey.

Lindsey wasn’t looking forward to seeing Naomi again. Eric’s sister had always seen Lindsey as competition, since the twins were so close. However, to be fair, Lindsey had to admit that although Naomi had certainly tried to influence Eric, the final decision had been his.

Keith “TNT” Arroyo, the explosives expert, remained the only member of the team Lindsey didn’t know. He was a relative newcomer with less seniority than Naomi, and he’d replaced the explosives expert Lindsey had worked with. Supposedly “TNT” lived up to his nickname in both his lifestyle and his skiing. His expertise with explosives had already earned him a place as instructor in setting off man-made avalanches. Like Lindsey and Eric, he had a glowing record and had saved lives more than once. He was the youngest of the party at twenty-three, Hunter had told her during her briefing.

“Despite his youth, Keith’s an excellent ranger—but that’s not all. The man knows his explosives, and he and Eva made a great two-member team. Keith’s a good man to have on any team—and he’ll need your friendship. He doesn’t have a twin’s shoulder to offer comfort.”

Lindsey had nodded, finished filling in the final paperwork with Jack Hunter, checked her pack, straps and skis, and set upon her journey. Now, almost finished with her hot chocolate and trail bar, she would soon meet Keith for the first time.

She’d resume her acquaintance with the brother and sister who’d almost become her family.

CHAPTER THREE

Yosemite, Rangers’ winter cabin

Same day, late afternoon

“WHERE IS SHE?” Eric asked impatiently, his breath making more fog on the frosted, double-paned window. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

“She checked in by radio right on time. Stop worrying. She probably hasn’t skied in a while,” Naomi said calmly. “Better to be cautious and a little late than risk injury like—” Naomi broke off and continued setting the table in the large common room.

Like Eva. She’s gone. If Lindsey were gone forever… That thought chilled him to the bone. He couldn’t finish it, even to himself. Eric strode away from the window and back to the kitchen area. He picked up the spoon and stirred the stew he’d fixed for their dinner. He suddenly wondered if Lindsey still liked stew. Her mother and sisters were vegetarian, but in primitive conditions such as these, it wasn’t practical to cook separate meals for everyone. Cooking duties were shared, as was rummaging in the huge cabin pantry among cases of canned goods, dried meats and a freezer full of frozen vegetables and butcher cuts purchased in advance and stockpiled to last four people six months.

Lindsey usually ate what was on the table. Still… Maybe she’d become vegetarian, after all. Quickly he tossed some flour and other ingredients into the breadmaker. Lindsey loved hot, freshly made bread—and it would go well with their meal, Eric told himself.

Keith emerged from the small bedroom he shared with Eric. They were built deliberately small, with low roofs to make them easier to heat. “If we’re waiting dinner on the replacement, I hope she gets here soon,” Keith said with an appreciative sniff. He moved over to the fire, tending it and then stroking the dejected Ginger lying beside it, her tail tucked around her body. “I’m hungry.”

“I’ll never understand men,” Naomi said harshly. “You lost Eva, and now you’re waiting for her replacement—how can you eat?”

“That’s enough,” Eric said quietly to his sister. “What would you have us do? Stop eating like Eva’s dog?”

“You did when Lindsey left four years ago,” Naomi responded.

“If so, I didn’t urge others to imitate my example.”

Eric saw his sister flush guiltily, and immediately felt guilty himself. Ever since Eva’s death, they’d all been on edge. And now the proverbial “blast from the past” in the form of Lindsey Nelson, former lover and fiancée, was about to arrive.

“I’m sorry, Eric. My apologies, Keith. I’ve been a nervous wreck since Eva—and I’m worried about Lindsey,” Naomi said contritely. “I just wish she’d get here, that’s all.”

“We all do,” Eric added kindly. “Go ahead and radio her again, if you like.”

“I—no, that’ll only slow her down more.”

“Tell you what. I’ll go walk the dog and take a looksee,” Keith offered. “I’ll check the generator on my way back.”

The schedule of cabin chores was strictly adhered to. Wood must be brought in from the woodpile, supplies inventoried, snow cleared from the roof, the generator checked and refueled. As far as meals went, this week Eric was cooking, Naomi setting the table, and Keith cleared the dishes and washed up.

“I’d appreciate that,” Naomi said before Eric could reply. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith nodded. “I won’t be long…ten minutes. Fifteen at most.”

All three checked their wristwatches from long habit. You planned your travel, you traveled your plan, and you always registered an itinerary with your partners. Even Eva had followed that rule. Keith hooked Ginger to the leash and after tugging and coaxing finally forced the reluctant dog to her feet and outside.

The rush of cold air coming in from the double-doored porch sent shivers down Eric’s spine as he peered out the closest window from his spot in the kitchen. His sister noticed. She always noticed.

“You’re nervous about her coming back,” she said without preamble.

Eric continued to stir.

“She’ll eat your cooking, you know. She always did.”

“That was four years ago. She likes pepper.” Eric added a dash of pepper.

“You’re still in love with her.” Naomi reached for the sturdy dinner dishes and placed them on the table. “Well, I hope you take every opportunity to get Lindsey back.”

Eric smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “This from the woman who never liked my fiancée.”

“You’re my twin. I’d resent anyone who replaced me in your life. And yes, I always thought you could do better than some animal lover who put her dog first and her boyfriend second.” Naomi picked up the silverware. “But I’m not the one who fell in love with her. And you haven’t been yourself ever since you let her walk out of here.”

“She walked away from me.”

“Wrong. You pushed her away by refusing to reschedule the wedding.” Naomi frowned at a spot on a piece of silverware. She wiped it on her heavy flannel shirt and set it at her usual place. “If I’d died, would you have wanted to get married the next day?”

Those words got a reaction. “You’re not a damn dog!”

“Lindsey was as close to that dog of hers as you and I are. They were like us—twins.”

“You’re dead wrong.”

“I’m not wrong! You know what I’m thinking most of the time. I know what you’re thinking. We know each other’s actions, movements, likes, dislikes. Each of us knows how the other would react to just about any situation at home or on the job. We’re in sync—we work perfectly together. Same with Lindsey and her dog. You and I love each other, we get along better than anyone else could, yet you’d still choose Lindsey over me, wouldn’t you?”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Naomi. Drop—”

Naomi interrupted him. “Just like she would’ve chosen you over her dog, if you’d given her a chance. For heaven’s sake, Eric, she has a real gift with animals! I wouldn’t be surprised to see a grizzly eating out of her hand. She saved more lives with her dog than both of us put together. Because of your hurt pride, you lost a wife. And she lost confidence in her gift.”

Eric abruptly tossed the stirring spoon in the sink. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Naomi paused, a stack of silverware still waiting to be set out. “The Park Service practically ordered her back here to work as a canine handler. She didn’t want to leave San Diego. She hasn’t worked with a dog since she left Yosemite. That’s your doing. Our doing,” Naomi corrected herself. “And she’s playing Baywatch babe with the surfers and divers. She’s not climbing or skiing. She’s not the same Lindsey we knew.”

Eric found himself shaken. He and Naomi had talked about Lindsey a few times, but this was news. “I never heard… No, I don’t believe it. She’d never give up her dogs—or her search-and-rescue work with them.”

“That’s because you haven’t kept in touch with Lindsey’s sisters. I have. Lindsey’s no better for your breakup than you are—which is why you both need to repair the damage. I’ll help in any way I can. Her family wants their old Lindsey back. I want my old brother back. If that doesn’t happen, when this winter is over, I leave here for good. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore. Knowing I helped make you so miserable makes it even worse.”

“That was four years ago. Why the sudden guilt complex? Because she’s coming back?”

“Because I am guilty.” Eric watched with horror as tears ran down his sister’s face. Naomi moved away from him to snatch at the coffee mugs and napkins. “I saw that you hated the time she spent with animals—you felt it was time she should spend with you. You felt her love for you was somehow compromised by her commitment to her dog. I know how you think, Eric. And I saw what it did to Lindsey. I should’ve helped you both—but I selfishly stood by. I’d already lost my husband. I didn’t want to lose my twin, too. But I lost you, anyway, by letting you walk away from Lindsey.”

“You didn’t ‘let me’ do anything, Naomi. I’m a big boy. Right or wrong, I made my own choice.”

“It was wrong.”

Eric watched the tears slide down her cheeks as she continued setting the table. He asked his sister a question he’d never asked. “Naomi, you only told me the truth, right? Or what you believed to be the truth? You never lied to me, did you? You said she wanted to break off the wedding and her dog’s death was the perfect excuse.”

Naomi didn’t answer. Shaken, he retrieved the spoon from the sink. “Naomi?” He started to press for an answer just as Keith returned with Ginger and announced, “I saw her. Better set an extra plate, Naomi. She should be here in about ten minutes.”

Could Lindsey have been right? That all along Naomi had planned to break them up? Never once had Eric suspected that Naomi might have deliberately deceived him. Eric took a deep breath and put the communal pot on the table. He reached for the lid to the breadmaker. He hadn’t clicked the switch hard enough to activate the process earlier, he noticed with dismay. There would be no bread with the stew, no bread for the replacement ranger.

Eric couldn’t help wishing for a more auspicious beginning. He checked his wristwatch once, twice and a third time, until he caught both his sister and Keith watching him.

“Just seeing if she’s still the punctual type,” he excused himself—he who never made excuses.

Naomi said nothing, but Keith remarked, “You can see her from the window now, Boss. Take a look.”

Eric loped to the front cabin window as fast as he could without seeming to rush. Despite the distance, he immediately took in the gracefully moving figure. The shape, size and movement hit him with a sense of recognition. He could pick Lindsey out in any crowd. The familiar pain he felt at her rejection warred with joy as the figure came closer and then stopped outside the porch door.

Before he could leave the food to hurry outside, she’d removed her skis, stepped inside the unheated enclosed porch, racked her skis and poles, and knocked on the inner connecting door. Eric immediately brushed past the other two rangers to open it personally, eager to see the face whose appearance once gave him such joy.

Lindsey Nelson stepped inside the cabin, bringing the cold air inside. The smile on his face froze as she spoke in a stranger’s voice.

“Lindsey Nelson reporting for duty as ordered, sir.”

One hour later

ERIC ROSE FROM THE DINNER table to fetch the apple pie he’d warmed for the night’s dessert, and wondered if Lindsey would refuse to have any. She’d refused his meat-filled stew earlier. After introductions had been made, Lindsey had declined dinner in favor of sitting on the huge, raised hearth and warming up in front of the fire. She hadn’t moved or spoken since, except to answer a few questions from Keith and apologize for her silence.

“I haven’t skied for four years, Keith. I promise we’ll get better acquainted tomorrow. Right now I just want to catch my breath.”

Her answer had shocked Eric to the core. Lindsey loved the mountains and skiing, yet her stiff movements, audible breathing and a repeated dose of Diamox showed she had indeed left the high country behind when she’d left him. Worse, her uncharacteristic detachment matched that of the depressed animal on the hearth. She hadn’t made eye contact with anyone, not even the dog.

My God, she has changed—and not for the better. Is Naomi right? Have we really done this to each other?

He brought her the first piece of pie. He remembered she loved apple and preferred it warm with coffee…or at least she used to. “The bread will be ready in an hour. This should hold you until then.” He handed her the plate with its fork and the cup of coffee. “Two artificial sugars and cream, right?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t use chemical sweeteners anymore,” she said quietly. “I will take the pie. Thank you.”

As she reached for the plate, the warm fire caught and reflected a sparkling gleam on her ring finger, a gleam that had been hidden in the dimness of the cabin. He stared at the diamond engagement ring—a ring much larger than the one he’d once bought her and still kept in his dresser drawer. The cup shook in his hand and coffee sloshed over the rim. He watched as she jumped and wiped at her indoor warm-up boots with her diamond-clad hand.

Eric backed away with the coffee. “God, I’m sorry. Did I burn you?”

“I’m okay. You just caught my boots.”

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have poured it so full,” he managed to say.

“No harm done.” She turned her attention back to the fire, leaving him to set the cup on the table.

Soon afterward, the table was cleared and wiped. Keith went outside to add more fuel to the generator. Naomi went to the storeroom, as she had cooking detail the next day. Eric, Lindsey and the dog were alone in the cabin’s main room.

Lindsey moved from the hearth to the thick hooked rug on the floor. He noticed Ginger had slipped closer to Lindsey and seemed to be watching her as closely as he was.

“What’s her name?” Lindsey finally asked.

“Ginger. Although Naomi says her name’s gonna be RIP if she doesn’t start eating soon.”

Lindsey broke off a piece of pie crust, and silently placed it halfway between herself and the animal.

Furry golden head resting on her paws, Ginger studied the crust. Her nose twitched once, but that was all. Lindsey picked up the crust and popped it in her own mouth. The dog’s gaze took in the action without any visible response. Lindsey broke off another piece of crust, placed it somewhat closer than before, and waited. When the dog made no move toward the food, Lindsey took back the second crust and put it in her mouth, eating with casual nonchalance despite its having been on the rug.

“Is she drinking, at least?”

Eric nodded, registering true interest in Lindsey’s voice and on her face for the first time since her arrival.

“That’s good.” This time Lindsey broke off a bigger piece of crust with a chunk of apple filling. She placed the food inches away from the dog’s alert eyes and again waited a few minutes. Then she casually reached toward the pie chunk again. Ginger lifted her head and gulped the food down, her motions canine-quick. Lindsey reached for the plate of pie, and set the whole thing in front of Ginger. The dog licked the plate, next licked the pie itself, then, still lying down, she began gulping pieces of pie.

“Well. I see you haven’t lost your magical touch,” Eric said.

Lindsey shrugged. “Nothing magical about it. The dog obviously considers this fireplace area home base. She watched me sit on the hearth, then tensed when I sat on the rug. She hasn’t closed her eyes since. She’s still territorial. I figured she’d challenge me for that food sooner or later. Besides, she’s a golden.”

“Huh?”

“She hasn’t given up the ghost. Her breed adapts easily to new owners. Some, like German shepherds, don’t. That’s why retrievers are replacing shepherds as service dogs for the handicapped. They can be trained as puppies and passed on to new owners as adults with much less emotional trauma to the animal. Do you have any of that stew left?”

“Yeah.” Eric rose and hurried to the stove to scoop out Lindsey’s share of the dinner. Lindsey took the plate and set it on the rug next to the pie plate.

“Go on, Ginger,” Lindsey urged. “You had dessert. Time for the main course.” Ginger didn’t hesitate a minute. She actually rose to her feet to eat. Lindsey took the plate and lifted it onto the raised hearth so the dog would swallow less air. “No gas bloat for you, girl. Eat up. Compassionate leave is canceled. Tomorrow morning—back to work.”

Eric watched as Lindsey’s hand toyed with the long fur on Ginger’s ears. He remembered those fingers, gentle, soothing, skilled, touching him with love during their passion-filled nights.

“Naomi was right. You still have a gift with animals.”

“My father has the real gift. I learned from him. Where’s the dog food? She’s almost done with the stew.”

“I’ll get it.” Eric hurried to the dried food. He dumped a few cups of it into the empty stew pot and stirred, coating the nuggets with leftover gravy. Lindsey took the pot from him and started hand-feeding Ginger, who allowed the familiarity.

“Naomi told me you hadn’t replaced your dog.”

“Her name was Missy.”

Eric caught the edge to her voice—the first sign of emotion she’d directed his way. “I remember…. Haven’t you missed—” Working with dogs? Suddenly, what he wanted to ask stilled his tongue. Haven’t you missed working with me? Missed us together? His eyes studied the diamond on her hand.

Lindsey didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s always rough to lose a partner, two-legged or four. Sorry to hear about the loss of Eva.”

“We all are. Last week there were four of us, and now…”

Lindsey finished for him. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it being stuck, Lindsey,” Eric said quietly.

“If they could’ve found anyone else for a replacement… But they couldn’t, not on such short notice. I’d never have come otherwise.”

His stomach fell at that, but he refused to let it show. He glanced pointedly at her ring. “So I gathered. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“No one you know.” Lindsey stacked the cleaned dinner dish and pie plate in the empty stew pot and got to her feet. Ginger still watched her closely as Lindsey set the dishes in the kitchen sink. “I’m going outside with the dog. Where did Eva take her to relieve herself?”

“A couple hundred feet behind the summer storage sheds—not the same place you used for Missy. I imagine the dog knows the way.”

“I’m not taking any chances. Where’s her leash?”

“I—” Eric looked around. “I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Obviously you never considered this dog part of your team,” Lindsey said sharply. “But then, commitment was never your strong point, was it? Excuse me…sir.”

Lindsey and the dog headed for the glassed-in porch, leaving Eric feeling as empty inside as the unwashed stew pot.

Women’s bedroom

9:00 p.m.

LINDSEY UNPACKED THE FEW belongings she’d brought, the dog alertly watching her from a safe distance.

“I know the feeling, Ginger,” Lindsey said softly. “I don’t know what to expect from you, either. Or anyone else here, for that matter.”

Ginger’s ears perked up, but there was no responding tail thump at the sound of her voice, just as there had been no warmth in Eric’s eyes at Lindsey’s presence. The man she’d once trusted with her body, heart and soul had acted as cautiously around her as the dog had—even more so, truth be told.

“It’s not like I bite or anything,” Lindsey said. She dug into her meager pack of personal items with a stiff arm and rummaged around for her over-the-counter painkillers and muscle liniment. “If I feel this sore now, Lord help me tomorrow,” she said, easily slipping back into the long-unused habit of talking to dogs. “I hope this bed is soft, girl, because I could sure use some rest before tomorrow.”

She stripped down to her long underwear and socks, started to ease her weary body under the thermal sheets, thick blankets and down coverlet, then stopped. “I hate going to bed alone when it’s cold, don’t you? I’m used to Missy keeping me warm in snow country. I guess you’re used to Eva.”

Lindsey knelt down on the floor and took the retriever’s face in her hands. Her eyes dampened with tears at the waste of Eva’s life, the lost look on the dog’s face.

“I know this bed is more yours than mine, Ginger,” she said softly. “And I know I’m not who you want in it. But maybe we can share, okay? I promise to take good care of you…no strings attached. Fresh starts for us both, okay? You’re still alive and kicking, right?” Lindsey stood and patted the bottom of the bed. “Come on, girl. Let’s hit the sack.”

Ginger watched her warily. Lindsey climbed under the covers, then patted the bed again. “The carpet’s nothing like a down-filled comforter. Awfully cold on that floor. Eva wouldn’t want you to be cold, you know.” The dog remained on the rug.

“Suit yourself, Ginger. The invitation’s open.” Lindsey turned out the small light by the side of the bed, her disappointment at Eric’s coolness compounded by the dog’s rejection. “Good night, girl. Sleep tight. Don’t let the snow fleas bite. Yosemite does have snow fleas, you know. When’s the last time you had a new flea collar?” Lindsey yawned. “I’ll check tomorrow. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

Lindsey burrowed under the bed linens, noticing that the sheets smelled faintly of laundry soap and fabric softener. A fresh herb sachet lay underneath the pillow. Only Naomi made those. Eric’s sister had been surprisingly kind. Lindsey made a mental note to thank her, then lifted her head from the pillow for one last comment.

“Good night, pooch.”

Silence in the room. Lindsey sighed, tucked one of her cold feet under the other and waited to warm up enough so she could sleep. She waited in vain. She felt cold inside, cold outside, cold through and through. Maybe she should get up and find Eva’s arctic sleeping bag. That meant she’d have to strip to her skin and sleep in the bag atop the bed for maximum warmth. But she didn’t know where the bag was—nor did she have the energy to search.

Tomorrow I’ll check out this cabin in daylight. Everything feels better in daylight, Lindsey reassured herself, ducking her head under the covers. Even my nose is cold. Immediately she popped her head out. It reminded her too much of Eva’s death, buried under the deadly weight of killing snow. Her ring caught on a thermal-weave pocket, snagging and making a tearing sound in the blanket.

“Dammit!” Lindsey tried to yank off the ring. It was stuck because of the higher altitude and the puffiness of her fingers. Lindsey licked her ring finger and tried one last time. Nothing. She gave up the attempt, burrowed back down into the covers and forced herself to relax, willing her body to adjust to the cold of the sheets. “Some replacement I am,” she said aloud, extremely grateful that her new cabinmates—especially Eric—didn’t realize how weak and vulnerable she felt. Worse, loneliness seemed to make her feel colder.

Fine. Feel sorry for yourself—but only for tonight. Tomorrow, chin up. I’m not a coward. At least, I never used to be.

Exhausted and overtired, she tossed and turned until she felt Ginger climb up on the bed to stretch out alongside her, the dog’s head resting on her shoulder. She smiled, and only then fell into a deep sleep, so deep that she didn’t hear Naomi enter the room an hour later, followed by Eric.

“One short evening—and the mutt’s literally eating out of her hand. None of us could get the dog to budge,” Eric said in an undertone.

“She has a way with living things.” Naomi quietly pulled off her winter boots and socks. “She always has.”

Ginger, who had lifted her head at their arrival, laid it back down again. Lindsey moved in her sleep at the motion. Eric watched as Lindsey’s right arm came out from the covers to settle around the golden neck. Both dog and new mistress relaxed and were motionless again.

Brother and sister stared at the diamond solitaire on Lindsey’s finger. “No wedding band, yet, twin. It’s not to late to fight for what you want—if you still want it.”

Eric smiled, a predatory smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I still want it,” he said. “I need to know if she does.”

Naomi’s eyes opened wide in amazement. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“I don’t tell you everything. Nor do I want you blabbing to Lindsey.”

“I won’t. Not until her wedding, anyway,” Naomi said.

“If there’s a wedding, I intend to be the groom. Me—not the bastard who gave her that ring.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Keep hoping.” Eric faced the opposite bed again and shook his head. “Lindsey and those animals. Some things never change.”

“Maybe you should do the changing,” Naomi suggested with a sibling’s frankness. “We both should. Start with calling Ginger by name and not ‘the mutt’ or ‘the damn dog.’ She’s been with us four years. And don’t rag Lindsey about putting the dog first. I won’t, either. The last time we did—”

“Don’t remind me. Still…I’ve got three months until the snow melts. I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.”

“Three months…” Naomi echoed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Eric stared one last time at the ring. “But I believe we make our own luck.”

And that’s why I told Jack Hunter that Lindsey Nelson should be our replacement.

CHAPTER FOUR

Rangers’ winter cabin

Day 2, sunrise

THE SMELL OF PANCAKES, maple syrup and fresh biscuits greeted Lindsey’s nose, while the golden retriever greeted Lindsey’s ears with a particularly high-pitched yip.

“All right, all right!” Lindsey groaned. “I’m awake.”

Ginger jumped down from the bed to prance near the closed bedroom door.

“Let me guess. You need to go out.”

This was followed by a full-fledged bark. Lindsey sat up and winced as skiing muscles, long unused, protested. The dog barked again, and there was a knock at the door.

“Come in. I’m decent.”

Eric poked his head in. “Morning.”

“What time is it?” Lindsey asked in a sleep-hoarse voice.

“Eight. We let you two sleep in. Want me to walk the dog for you?”

“Please, and keep her on the leash,” Lindsey said, rubbing at a sore shoulder. “Just in case she doesn’t come back.”

“Will do, but she’ll come back,” Eric said confidently.

Just like I did.

“Breakfast is ready.” He and Ginger both left, Eric closing the door behind him.

The meal was a quick affair. Ginger bolted her food, and Lindsey finished her pancakes and eggs almost as quickly, but with more delicacy. Soon Lindsey and Eric skied away from the cabin, Ginger at their heels, out into the crisp, pure air of Yosemite.

The crystal-blue clearness of unpolluted high altitudes against the vivid whites and pine greens soothed her soul. The wide-open spaces of Yosemite echoed with the sound of their newly waxed cross-country skis cutting through the crisp snow. Lindsey remembered earlier, happier times, when the silent, brooding man ahead of her had smiled and skied at her side and another dog bounded at her heels. She pushed those dangerous thoughts away. Instead, she took in a deep breath of air tinged with pine, then slowly exhaled. She soaked in the stark beauty of the ancient granite and continued to follow Eric on the packed cross-country ski trail. Ginger trotted between the two of them, easily keeping up with Eric’s slow, relaxed pace.

Lindsey smiled, remembering Eric’s usual brisk rate of travel. She suspected he was making allowances for her sore muscles, since a dragging pace in anything wasn’t his style. In bed he’d made love to her with an easy energy that fully complemented Lindsey’s more easygoing approach to life.

Wade was only partially compatible. She never felt the deep satisfaction that went past physical pleasure. Only Eric could satisfy her emotionally and mentally—probably because he was the only one she’d ever trusted emotionally and physically. With Wade, that trust barely extended to the physical level, although both he and her parents believed otherwise. Her sisters, however, weren’t deceived. They knew she still had feelings for Eric, no matter how happy she seemed with Wade.

He deserves better, Lindsey thought. And so do I. I shouldn’t settle…. I want Eric to trust me. He used to. I wonder what lies Naomi told him…. Lindsey suddenly realized that her explosive, deeply satisfying sexual relationship with Eric had prevented them from exploring other facets that two people with a future really needed to know. And why did I let him stop the wedding? Why didn’t I go after Eric? Maybe I was too young.

Those often-asked questions took on a changed relevance as she studied the figure before her with new insight and a weak longing to feel his powerful body once more joined with hers. The image of them together was so strong that she slipped on an icy area, overbalanced and pitched down into the deeper snow on the side of the trail.

Eric immediately turned and Ginger bounded her way to investigate, which only caused more of a tangle of limbs, skis, poles and snow. Despite the serious thoughts of earlier, her mood lightened at the ridiculous sight she knew she presented.

“You okay?” Eric asked, quickly joining her as Ginger licked her face.

“Unless you count feeling stiff, sore and having snow down my neck.” Lindsey giggled, pushing the dog off her. “I don’t need dog hair in my mouth, either.” Ginger bounded at her chest again with puppy playfulness, shoving Lindsey flat on her back in the snow. One ski binding popped open, and a pole complete with leather glove fell across the dog’s back.

Lindsey broke into full-fledged laughter. “Some rescue ranger I am. Get off me, you silly dog. Ginger—move!”

The dog came closer, causing a clump of snow to land squarely on Lindsey’s face. Lindsey groped blindly about, then felt herself being lifted up and away from the snow. She felt the ground underfoot again. One arm remained around her waist, while strong masculine fingers gently brushed at the snow on her face. Lindsey opened her eyes to see Eric’s dear face only inches from hers. Both the intensity in his gaze and the lines around his eyes—lines that weren’t there four years ago—made the grin fade from her lips.

“I’ve missed your smile,” he said hoarsely.

“Not enough to postpone our wedding for forty-eight hours so I could bury a friend.” The anger in her voice surprised him into releasing her. The words she hadn’t been able to say because of shock rushed to her lips.

“I’ll never forget that, Eric. I hate what you did to me…to us.”

“Judging by that ring on your finger, I guess you got over it.”

“One has nothing to do with the other! I just…” Her voice trailed off. At his continued silence, she took in a deep breath. “Don’t know where that came from,” she said shakily, backing away from his grasp to reach for her fallen gear. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t intend to start my first day by dragging out the past.”

“Skip the sir routine. I’m still Eric, same as always.”

Lindsey nodded and stepped back into her ski binding. “Not exactly the same.”

“It’s been four years,” he said simply.

“That’s not what I mean. You seem—different.”

To her surprise, Eric didn’t press for details. “What do you want me to say, Lindsey? Right now, all I care about is that you do a professional job. There’s no reason to think you wouldn’t. You always have. Anything beyond that…” He shrugged. “Like you said, it’s only your first day. We have time to talk later.”

The stillness of the winter snow, a snow high above the timberline, where neither bird nor insect made a sound, wrapped around them.

“A few months, anyway.” Lindsey finished retrieving and donning her gloves and poles, then patted her thigh with her hand to call Ginger. She waited for Eric to take off at a smooth glide and followed, her pulse throbbing against her temples with emotion.

Eric didn’t speak again for some time, and when he did, he spoke only of business matters in a brisk voice that neither repelled nor welcomed. For her part, she spent the next few hours adjusting to the routine of Yosemite. Old tasks came back easily—checking the snowpack, checking the few trails for signs of human visitors that might still remain visible, and watching the sky for indications of changing weather. When they’d traveled two-thirds of the large circle that would return them to the cabin, Eric called the other team by radio.

“We aren’t stopping for lunch?” she asked curiously. On days with clear weather, Eric preferred to take his meal on the trail. The rangers had more than enough cabin time—and cabin fever—when long storms rolled in. She’d packed enough for two, with a nut-and-carbo trail mix and a second bag of dried fruit, expecting Eric to go with his usual dried beef jerky and coffee, but not positive. As he’d said earlier, much had changed in four years.

“Not on your first day,” he said. “I’m assuming you’re still on the Diamox. You need a few weeks to adjust to the altitude and cold. We’ll go back to the cabin for lunch and you can take it easy for the rest of the day.

Let’s take a breather, though. I could go for some coffee. You?”

“I’ll pass. But I think I’ll step off the trail,” Lindsey said, falling back into the expression she used when needing privacy to relieve herself.

“Make it quick,” Eric warned. “I don’t want you chilled from exposure.”

“Don’t worry. I’m no rookie,” Lindsey replied. She removed the snowshoes attached to her pack, substituted them for her skis, and left pack and gear with Eric. “Be right back. Come on, Ginger,” she commanded.

They made their way through the snow—the upper level of loose shallow snow with layers of deep, hard-packed crust beneath. Once she reached some pine trees and scrub that made good cover, Lindsey enviously watched Ginger squat as she herself unzipped thermal-lined ski pants to get to her long underwear.

“Yeah, easy for you, girl,” she muttered. Lindsey took care of her immediate need, finished with the biodegradable camping tissue and quickly redressed, her bottom still pimpled with goose bumps. “No more morning coffee for me,” she said aloud, thinking of the hot chocolate and healthier orange juice she’d passed up. She never could hold caffeine.

She allowed herself a “Brrrr” before quickly treading forward on her snowshoes, using the brisk pace to warm herself. “Come on, Ginger, let’s get back to the trail.”

Ginger started, then suddenly stopped. Head held high, nose even higher, the golden retriever sniffed the air. Her tail extended stiffly, a sign of concentration.

“Whatcha got, girl?” Lindsey whispered. “A rabbit?”

Ginger’s ears perked higher and her nostrils flared even wider. She whined, her tail rapidly swishing—signaling a “find,” a human find.

“There can’t be a person around here,” Lindsey gasped. Maybe she’d read the dog’s body language wrong. No matter how well-trained dogs were, when they switched handlers, there were always communication problems, at least initially. Not only that, every dog signaled a find differently. Best to be cautious. She thrust out a hand for the dog’s collar, but Ginger evaded Lindsey’s grasp and half ran, half bounded through the shadowed snow blanketing the base of the denser pines.

“Ginger, come!” Lindsey ordered, but Ginger remained determinedly on course.

Automatically Lindsey reached for her radio to call for backup, but it remained with the rest of her gear—back on the trail with Eric. She yanked off her glove and whistled through her fingers, the way her father had taught her at the family’s kennels—long and loud—then hurried after the dog as fast as she could on snowshoes.

She heard Eric’s responding two blasts on his whistle, but didn’t slow her pace. Ginger might not have been her partner for long, but she trusted her partner. She always trusted her dogs. Unlike people, they’d never lied to her.

“I’m coming, Ginger! Hold up!” she ordered, but Ginger had already stopped of her own accord and was digging frantically at a large mound of snow. Up close, it looked odd; the snow was cut into crisp, hard-packed blocks and arranged into an igloo-like form. Large boughs of pine across the top both protected the blocks from wind and camouflaged its appearance.

“What is it?” Lindsey asked. She pulled the dog away, searching for the entrance she knew had to be there. “What did you find?”

In the distance she could hear Eric shouting her name. She couldn’t answer; shocked surprise at her discovery had momentarily left her speechless. Lindsey reached into the hollow and pulled out a sleeping bag….

With a living, breathing little girl.

Rangers’ winter cabin

Afternoon, same day

“GOT IT. OVER AND OUT.” Eric switched off the radio at the desk and came out of the ranger office.

“Get a positive identity on the girl, Boss?” Keith asked as he carefully waxed his skis in front of the fire. “She’s gotta be the one we’re looking for.”

“Yeah, she is. The description matched. Pamela Wilson. Daughter of Joyce and David Wilson. He was jailed for assault and battery, then the wife filed for divorce with full custody. The court granted both, and when the paperwork was served, the ex became enraged and broke out soon after.”

“If I’d escaped from jail, I’d certainly find better living quarters than the snow.” Keith shook his head. “What kind of father leaves a kid alone in the dead of winter?”

“One who’s armed and wanted by the police for kidnapping. We’re damn lucky he wasn’t around at the time.” Eric looked toward the women’s closed bedroom door where Lindsey and Naomi had taken the child to be examined, tended and warmed. The thought of Lindsey walking into the kidnapper’s base chilled his blood. She could just as easily have walked into an ambush with the father! He’d have to have a talk with her—with all of them—about taking extra precautions.

“Is he missing?” Keith asked. “Or dead?”

“Neither,” Eric said. “I saw the child’s shelter. It was first rate—an Inuit probably couldn’t have done any better. Whoever he is, the fool knows his way around the outdoors. He did a good job of keeping his daughter hidden.”

“Speaking of good jobs, it didn’t take our replacement long to make the find, did it?” Keith switched skis. “And with a dog she’s only had one day. Talk about luck—and skill. I’m impressed.”

“That’s Lindsey for you.”

The bedroom door opened and Lindsey stepped out, much to Ginger’s delight. The dog had been shut out of the bedroom and away from the young patient.

“Speak of the devil,” Keith said, adding, “How is she?” at the same time that Eric asked, “How’s the kid?”

“Naomi says that on the whole, she’ll be okay. A small frostbite patch on her nose. Her toes are worse. Naomi couldn’t say if she’d lose any. She’s a little dehydrated, but not underweight. Ginger, calm down.” Lindsey searched through the pantry. “Naomi says there’s some IV bags with Ringer’s lactate solution in here somewhere?”

“On the left,” Eric said.

“Your sister’s more worried about her mental condition. The child’s not speaking right now. Do we have confirmation on the name yet?”

Eric nodded. “Pamela Wilson. Goes by Pam. She’s six years old, and her mother has full custody. From what I’ve been told, the father decided to take the daughter and run, after the wife filed for divorce—seems the bastard likes beating his family,” Eric said with disgust.

“Yosemite is no place to escape—or to hide a child!” Ginger stopped prancing at the harshness in Lindsey’s voice. The dog went back to the hearth to quietly observe the proceedings.

“No, it’s not.” Eric passed Lindsey an IV bag.

“Why did he come to the park in the first place? Why are the police so sure he’s in Yosemite?”

“They said he grew up in this county. Used to bring his wife and daughter on camping trips all the time. Considering how well he knows the area, we’re lucky you found Pam.”

“Ginger did. I got dragged along for the ride. Naomi wants a butterfly needle. Says they’re best for little veins.”

Eric passed that sterile packet to her. “The father’s still out there. He’s not going to be happy that we took his daughter.”

“Obviously the mother’s frantic to see her again. If only we could chopper Pam out,” Lindsey said. “And chopper some police in.”

“We’ll just have to pack her out,” Keith said.

“I don’t think the weather will hold.”

Lindsey and Keith both gazed toward the barometer on the outer porch. “It’s falling?” she asked Eric.

“No, but it will. We’ll soon have more snow than any of us can handle, let alone a small child.”

“Are you sure?” Keith asked.

“He’s never wrong about the weather.” Lindsey collected the supplies.

“I can hope. Damn,” Keith muttered.

“If it grounds us, it’ll ground her father,” Eric said. “For now, that’s a plus.”

Lindsey echoed Keith’s reply. “We can hope,” she said as she headed back to the women’s bedroom with Naomi’s supplies.

AN HOUR LATER, both women emerged; Lindsey first, Naomi following, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“Poor thing’s out like a light. She has a slight fever, too, but that’s probably from the frostbite. I’m hoping after she’s rested and hydrated she’ll take some broth.” Naomi headed for the sink to wash her hands. “And she’s on a bedpan until I say otherwise. I don’t want this child outside or on her feet for any reason.”

“Is she well enough to be evacuated?” Eric asked.

“Assuming her father lets us out of here…I think so,” Naomi grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “I’m going to go back and sit with her for a while.”

“I’ll reassign the chores,” Eric said. “With Lindsey here, it won’t be a problem.”

“I need to let Ginger out again,” Lindsey said. She wouldn’t bother with the leash this time. Ginger had followed her commands out on the trail. Lindsey didn’t feel that Ginger had truly bonded with her, yet, but the dog seemed to have accepted her authority.

Eric reached for his coat. “I’ll come with you.”

Outside in the white stillness of Yosemite snow, Yosemite granite, they watched Ginger sniff and trot and sniff some more.

“Fussy, isn’t she?” Eric said.

Lindsey turned her face to him. “She doesn’t strike me as fussy. I think she just has a great nose. Lucky for us.”

“We’re going to need more than luck,” Eric said. “I’m sure the father’s still alive and kicking, and that means he’s a threat. With his skills…”

Lindsey gave him her full attention. “Yes?”

“He’s trouble. Think about it. That shelter was expertly built, and would’ve served any experienced outdoors person well. You just happened to come across the child when he was out—probably gathering fuel.”

Lindsey blinked. “I didn’t notice any signs of a second person.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Because you always watch the dog—and gauge your reactions by the dog’s reactions.”

She flushed, her cheeks turning red in the evening cold. “That’s what a good dog handler is supposed to do.”

“Lindsey, you could use your own senses as well! It would make you a much better—”

“Person?”

“Ranger. That child didn’t start the campfire by herself. I learned a lot studying the campsite and what was left of the fire. Her father’s skilled in surviving the wilderness, and he knows we have his daughter. It’ll be a lot easier for him to find us than the other way around, and he’s a desperate man. An armed man. I’d bet my paycheck he’ll be back for her—and us.”

The retriever scratched with her back legs, throwing fresh snow over the soiled snow just behind her. Then she trotted over to Lindsey, nuzzled her mitten-clad hand, and waited for the command to head back toward the cabin in the failing light.

“We can’t cover our tracks,” Eric said. “And we can’t get Pam out of here unless we’re on foot—not an option right now—even if Pam’s condition allowed it. Not with the weather about to sour.”

The two stood in silence for a moment. Ginger, tired of waiting, took the lead and ambled slowly toward the cabin.

“Independent, isn’t she?” Lindsey said.

“It could’ve gotten her killed. And you, if Wilson had been at the camp with his daughter. He’s packing a gun, possibly a rifle, and he isn’t above hitting women or children. He wouldn’t have thrown out the welcome mat for you. Lindsey, why didn’t you radio me?”

“I—well, I didn’t recognize that Ginger was alerting me to a human, and everything happened so fast…. Plus I left my radio with the pack.”

“You should’ve had it on you.”

“I know. But I did whistle. It’s just that I got out of the habit of relying on you as my partner. I’ve been working with other people for the past four years.”

Her words hung in the cold air, an almost tangible barrier.

“They’re not here. I am,” he said tersely. “Finding Pam was a lucky break. But we still have to get her out. That won’t be easy. Wilson’s got the whole park to hide in. We’re easy to find—and sitting targets for him if we make any mistakes. Don’t let your independent streak turn you into our weakest link, Lindsey. We can’t afford mistakes.”

Lindsey nodded. For the first time since her arrival, Eric’s attitude held more than just professional caution. He was worried about her on a more personal level, too, or so it seemed. His next words confirmed it. “Good. I’ve got to go talk to the others.” As he passed her, she felt his hand drop lightly on her shoulder. “Welcome back, Lindsey.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Rangers’ winter cabin

Day 3, sunrise

JUST AS ERIC HAD PREDICTED,, the rangers awoke to the howl of the wind, signaling the arrival of a fast-moving cold front. Hard, driving snow obscured vision and drowned out any other sounds as it whistled around the peaks near Half Dome and blew through the open spaces of Tuolumne Meadows. Keith and Eric alternated leaving the cabin on a rope guide to refill the generator; if it stopped, the fuel would freeze inside the engine, and the whole machine would have to be thawed to become useful again.

Lindsey took a few trips on the rope to walk the dog and do bedpan duty for Pam. She mentally contrasted her modern plumbing and deeply tiled whirlpool tub back home with the cold austerity of the outhouse. With a start, she realized she hadn’t thought about San Diego once during the past few days, nor had she thought about Wade, except in relation to his ring. It still continued to hold her puffy finger hostage, and catch on glove or mitten every time she pulled one on.

For now, the white wilderness of the High Sierras, and the people inside the cabin were her whole frame of reference. One of them was a former lover, one a former enemy, and the other, a stranger. She stomped the snow from her boots before taking off her mittens and heavy parka inside the cabin’s glass-enclosed porch area. Ginger’s long coat remained full of snow, but it didn’t seem to be bothering the dog. She waited for Lindsey to open the door to the interior cabin.

“Not until you shake,” Lindsey said. “Shake, girl!”

Ginger obligingly lifted one front paw.

“No, not your paw,” Lindsey said. “Paw means give me your foot. Shake means clean your coat.” She was surprised at Eva, teaching the dog pet commands, instead of working commands.

Ginger’s furrowed forehead showed confusion. Lindsey gently caressed the top of the dog’s head.

“Obviously no one ever taught you what to do with a wet coat. Time to learn. We don’t need melting snow all over the cabin.” Lindsey leaned down and lifted a sensitive ear, then softly blew into it. “Shake!”

The irritating puff of air caused the desired result. The dog shook her ears, then her whole body, sending a mini-blizzard of snow flying.

“Good girl!” she praised. “Okay, paw,” she commanded. “Let me see a paw.” One by one, Lindsey lifted the four legs, and gently pulled out any stray pieces of ice or snow that had clumped inside the dog’s pads. “Now you’re ready to go inside. Come on.” Stomping her boots one last time, Lindsey entered the cabin, mentally reminding herself to work on retraining Ginger.

“Took you longer than I thought,” Naomi chided from her place at the table. “Breakfast is ready—and look who’s joined us.”

Bundled up in Naomi’s over-large flannels and a blanket sat a little girl in an extra chair. Naomi had boosted her up with a couple of pillows. The child’s frostbitten toes were warmly covered with thick loose socks, and straight brown bangs partially hid her eyes, but not her nervousness.

Lindsey sat in the chair closest to Pam, and had Ginger lie down between the chairs.

“You like dogs?”

The bent head lifted a bit, revealing a freckled nose, brown eyes and chapped lips. Keith and Eric joined the breakfast table, bringing to five the number of people sitting there. Lindsey noticed that Keith made a special point of sitting next to Naomi. She realized that Keith always preferred to sit near the other woman and wondered if there was a one-sided romance going on, then turned her attention to the child.

“Would you like to make friends with Ginger?”

The girl’s chin lifted a little higher, and her eyes flicked from the dog to Lindsey and back to the dog again.

“She’s a very nice girl,” Lindsey went on. “She won’t bite, so don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of dogs.” Pam’s voice was timid, but the words and emotion behind them were obviously truthful.

“Glad to hear it.” Lindsey scooped some scrambled eggs, made from frozen egg liquid, and canned peaches onto Pam’s plate. “When you’re done eating, you can help me feed Ginger.”

Pam nodded. Lindsey shoved the child’s fork and spoon closer. “You’re a big girl. You use a fork instead of a spoon, right?”

Pam paused, then stabbed at a slice of peach in heavy syrup and popped it into her mouth.

“Pretty good, huh?” Lindsey said, doing the same with her own peaches. “You like eggs?”

Pam shook her head and speared another peach.

“I like to do this.” Lindsey reached for the bottle of ketchup and dumped a red blob on the scrambled eggs. “It makes ’em taste just like French fries. They even look like French fries. They’re both yellow.”

“Not the same yellow,” Pam argued. These were her first words since her rescue. Lindsey ignored the suddenly alert adults and continued her conversation in the same soft tone she used with her dogs.

“Well, no, but they still taste like fries. Wanna try?” Lindsey scooped up some eggs and held them up. “Come on…one bite, and you can tell me if I’m right or wrong.”

Pam opened her mouth and took the portion of egg, then chewed and swallowed.

“Good?”

“It doesn’t taste like fries.”

“Well, it does to me. What do you think?”

Pam shrugged. “It’s okay.”

Lindsey shoved the bottle of ketchup Pam’s way. “Help yourself, honey.”

“Mommy calls me that.” Pam tried to snap the pop-cap up, and failed. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “I wanna go home.” She began to cry in earnest, harsh sobs that made Naomi reach for the child, but Lindsey was there first.

Lindsey tucked the little girl under her chin and kissed the top of her head. “Of course you’re going home! As soon as we can get you there.”

Pam shivered. “Daddy said I couldn’t see Mommy again. I have to stay with him forever an’ ever.”

“Well, he was wrong, wasn’t he? You’re right here with us, and we’ve already had the police tell your mother you’re safe.” Lindsey picked up her napkin and wiped the child’s cheeks and nose. “We’ll send you home as soon as possible. After you get better—and the weather does, too.”

The child sniffled some more, and Lindsey wiped her face again and rocked her. After a few minutes, Pam settled down. Lindsey speared yet another peach and fed it to her. “Shall we put ketchup on the peaches?” she asked.

Pam grimaced. “Not on mine.”

“Come on, let’s try it,” Lindsey teased. “I will if you will.”

Pam shook her head, then gasped as Lindsey dunked a peach slice into some ketchup and ate it. “Umm-umm! Tastes just like French fries!” Lindsey smacked her lips. “Your turn!”

Pam wrinkled her nose. “Yuck!”

“Fine. More for me. Forget the ketchup.” Lindsey moved Pam’s plate closer. “Let’s have a race and see who finishes first. On your mark, get set, go!”

Five minutes later, all the peaches were gone, and a few minutes after that the eggs as well. Pam yawned, drank her milk, then yawned again.

“Back to bed for you, young lady,” Naomi announced.

Pam reluctantly allowed herself to be taken from Lindsey’s lap. She balked as Naomi began to lift her up. “I was gonna feed the dog!”

“You can feed the dog in the bedroom,” Naomi said firmly. “I don’t want you getting chilled.”

“Good idea,” Lindsey agreed. “You two can make friends with each other there.”

Pam sighed with contentment as Naomi carried her away. Lindsey and Ginger followed, closing the door behind them.

“IMPRESSIVE,” KEITH SAID, clearing the dishes as Eric studied the storm outside. “Our replacement always seems to know just the right thing to say or do. Seems to come naturally to her. I’m surprised you ever let her go.”

Eric peered through the small window and pivoted back toward the table. “No one tells Lindsey how to do her job.”

“I’m not talking about work. I’m talking about personally. Naomi’s dropped a few hints here and there about Lindsey.”

“My personal life is none of your business.”

“Look, Eric. We’ve got enough going on here without adding an ex’s angst to the list.”

Eric restrained the sudden flash of anger coursing through him. “Don’t worry about it,” he said curtly.

The men were silent for a moment, then Keith put down his pile of dirty dishes with a thump. “You might as well know I’ve applied for a transfer. Another winter alone with your…moods—and your sister’s—isn’t anything I’d care to repeat. If I have my way, I’ll be leaving when Lindsey does.”

Before Eric could reply, the lights flickered, went out, then went on again, but dimly.

“Hell, now what?” Keith said. “I’d better check the generator.”

“I’ll go with you,” Eric said, the hair on the nape of his neck rising with a creepy premonition he’d learned never to ignore.

“Pass.”

“I said I’ll go with you,” Eric repeated. He reached for his ranger-issued rifle. “Naomi—Keith and I are going out to check on the generator!” he called out. “Be back in twenty minutes!”

NAOMI LOOKED AT HER WATCH, then continued to bandage Pam’s feet. “My brother has a loud voice, doesn’t he?” she said, hoping Pam would open up with her as she had with Lindsey. Like Naomi, Lindsey sat on the bed. Ginger lay on the floor closest to the portion of bed where Pam sat, sniffing Pam’s damaged toes, then sniffing the air, then the child’s toes again. Next she shoved her golden head straight at Naomi’s chest.

“Ginger, knock it off,” Naomi grumbled. “Lindsey, do something.”

Lindsey grabbed Ginger’s collar and gently tugged, effectively distracting the dog.

“My feet are ugly,” Pam moaned. “They’re all black.”

“Just the toes,” Naomi explained. She’d finished bandaging the first foot and was beginning the other. “That black is where the cold damaged your capillaries, and the lifeless tissue is starting to slough off.”

“Huh?” Pam pulled her bare foot away from Naomi and started to touch the damaged toes.

Lindsey caught Pam’s hands and clapped them together in a patty-cake motion. “Don’t touch. The black is like a big scab. Don’t make it bleed.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“And Ginger, get your nose out of here. She wants to lick your feet,” Lindsey told her, “because that’s how animals help heal themselves, by licking their wounds. The increased circulation helps speed new skin growth.”

Ginger shoved her nose underneath Naomi’s hands and sniffed at the bandaged foot. Then, before either woman could react, Ginger stood on her hind legs and shoved hard at Naomi’s chest again. Naomi overbalanced and slid off the edge of the mattress to bounce down on the floor rug with a thud.

“Ouch!” Naomi cried, rubbing her behind. Pam giggled as the dog jumped off the bed to nuzzle Naomi’s chest.

“This dog is always pestering me. Even Eva couldn’t stop her. For heaven’s sake, Lindsey, do something!”

“CAN’T WE DO SOMETHING?” Eric asked. “We need this generator working!”

“I told you, I’m trying.” Keith set down his wrench with a clatter and rubbed his hands together. “If there wasn’t a raging blizzard outside, I’d swear someone’s been messing around in here. The fuel pump’s barely processing, but it was fine yesterday.”

Eric froze. “Wilson’s been here.”

“You sure? The man couldn’t have hiked through a storm, waltzed in here, tampered with the generator and strolled back out again. Seems hard to believe.”

Eric hurried to the outside of the door that protected the generator. Amidst howling wind and sharp, stinging snow, the faint impression of footsteps into and away from the shed were still visible. Inspecting the keyhole was an afterthought. The bright silver lines stood out starkly among the dull weathering of the surrounding iron plate. For once, Eric hated being right.

“He picked the lock,” he told Keith a few minutes later. “The scratches are fresh.”

“Could’ve been a bear. They don’t have a true hibernation. One could’ve left his den and tried here for food.” Keith picked up his wrench once more and went back to tinkering with the fuel pump.

“Animals don’t leave human footprints. Where’s your repair bin with the spare parts?”

“You don’t think…” Keith rushed over to the unlocked storage cubby and lifted the wooden lid. He swore viciously at the damage inside.

“Bears don’t destroy so neatly.” Eric’s jaw tightened.

“That son of a—”

“So can you fix the generator or not?”

“I do keep a spare set of parts on the cabin porch where we store the skis. It’s not as extensive as the missing set, but I ran out of room in here. They’re in my yellow tool kit.”

“I’ll get it. You keep babying the generator. If it stops on us, we’ll never get it going again.”

Eric reached for his gloves and the length of rope they used to get back and forth to the cabin. “I’ll be back in five. Lock the door.”

GINGER CONTINUED TO PESTER Naomi. Lindsey called off the dog and ordered her out of the room. When Naomi finally finished tending to Pam, Lindsey called Ginger back. “Pam, you stay in bed. Ginger will keep you company. Naomi and I will be back in a minute.”

“I don’t wanna take a nap,” Pam complained.

“No one said you had to nap. I just want you to rest your feet,” Naomi said.

“Here.” Lindsey opened a dresser drawer and removed one of Eva’s old socks. “Take this—” Lindsey tucked it into a ball shape “—and throw it for Ginger. Tell her fetch. I’m going to close the door. Come on, Naomi.”

In the main room, Naomi looked puzzled. “What’s going on? You’re acting almost as weird as the dog.”

Lindsey checked her watch. “The men will be outside for another ten minutes. We need to use their room.”

Naomi sighed. “Look, I have work to do. If this is some kind of game—”

“You know me better than that.” If anyone plays games, it’s you, she refrained from saying. Naomi had been pleasant, even welcoming, and Lindsey had decided to return the favor.

Inside the men’s bedroom, Naomi crossed her arms. “Now what?”

“Take off your sweater and shirt.” Lindsey locked the door.

Naomi actually grinned. “Yeah, right.” She stopped at the serious expression on Lindsey’s face.

“This isn’t a joke. I want to see what’s bugging Ginger. Have you been injured lately?”

“Nope.”

“We need to be sure, okay? Take off the sweater and shirt,” she repeated.

Clad in her bra, Naomi frowned as her skin broke out in goose bumps from the cold. Lindsey circled her, carefully inspecting the other woman’s sides, back and front.

“I see a bruise by your left breast. What’s that from?”

“I told you, Eva’s dog’s been banging me in the chest every chance she gets.” Naomi reached for her shirt and sweater.

“No, don’t get dressed. Take off your bra.”

“What?”

Lindsey ignored the woman’s reluctance. “When’s the last time you did a self-exam?”

“Huh?”

“When’s the last time you checked your breasts?”

“I don’t know…. What does this have to do with anything?”

“Last month? More than a few months?”

Naomi shrugged. “I don’t know. A while.”

“Remove your bra, get on the bed and examine yourself.”

“Come on, Lindsey, I have chores to do and a patient to attend! I can do this later.”

“Come on, it’ll only take a minute. You’re already half undressed. I’ll watch Pam.”

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