The Replacement. Anne Duquette Marie

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