Page 32 of Cole

It was snowing, and Janice had to admit that without focusing on driving, she could see the magic of the snow-covered scenery more clearly, even as it rushed by.

This was what she'd come here for. This wilderness, this ecosystem, this delicate balance of predator and prey and the changing climate that affected them all. And now it was threatened by corporate greed and illegal contamination.

Her arms tightened around Cole's waist as the trail became rougher. The last thing she wanted was to be bounced off the back of the snowmobile and land on her ass in a drift. She pressed closer to his back, feeling the solid warmth of him even through all their layers of clothing.

He finally slowed again and then cut the engine. The sudden silence was startling, broken only by the whisper of falling snow and the distant rush of water.

Looking up, Janice spied the narrower crossing of the creek. The way it cut a dark, curving path through the pristine snow was beautiful but could also be deadly. The water ran fast here, fed by snowmelt and underground springs, never quite freezing even in the depths of winter. If they fell in, hypothermia would set in within minutes.

The creek was more like a narrow river, with water rushing between steep banks. She swiped at her goggles, glad to see large rocks sticking up through the rushing water, creating natural stepping stones across. They'd still get wet, but at least they wouldn't have to attempt to wade through the current.

Then Cole twisted on the seat, and she realized he needed her to get off first. She swung her leg over and wobbled as she stood in the deep snow, her legs stiff from gripping his waist tightly for the past twenty minutes.

His hand snapped out to grab her arm, steadying her until she could stand on her own. Even covered in all his gear, she could tell he was smiling beneath the balaclava and goggles, spying the slight crinkles at the sides of his eyes.

And that thought made her smile as well, warmth flooding through her that had nothing to do with the thermal layers she wore.

Cole dismounted and moved to stand beside her, his height and bulk somehow reassuring in the vast wilderness. He pulled down his face covering, and she did the same, both of them needing to communicate clearly now.

"That's the crossing?" he asked, nodding toward the creek.

"Yes. It's the safest spot within a reasonable distance, simply because it is narrower here. I can’t speak to the stability of the rocks. I’ve never crossed the creek. My cameras are all located on this side, even if their range covers the other side and creek bank."

His dark eyes studied the creek, and she could almost see him running calculations, assessing risks, planning their approach. She’d never met anyone like him. This was what he did, she realized. Evaluate threats. Keep people safe. The military had trained it into him, and now it was as natural as breathing.

"We'll cross one at a time," he said. "I'll go first, make sure the rocks are stable with the new snow. Then you follow, and I'll be on the other side to help if you need it."

"I can⁠—"

"I know you can handle yourself." His tone was gentle but firm. "But there's no reason to take unnecessary risks. Humor me."

Janice nodded, recognizing that this was about more than just chivalry. This was about protocol, about the safety procedures he'd asked her to follow. Her attempting something she couldn’t do would put both of them at risk.

Sucking in a deep breath, she nodded again.

14

Janice held her breath as he moved. She watched him step onto the first rock, his boot finding purchase on the snow-slicked surface. He steadied himself, weight perfectly balanced, before shifting to test the rock's stability. Only when he was certain did he commit fully, moving to the next stone with the same careful deliberation.

Each time he put his weight on one of the large rocks, Janice’s breathing was unsteady as she feared the rocks might be unstable. The water rushed beneath him, dark and deadly cold. One slip, one moment of lost balance, and he'd be in the water. Being soaked in the snowstorm could bring frostbite if she couldn’t get him back to the cabin. And with the current of the water of unknown depth, she prayed they would both cross safely.

But he didn't slip. He moved with a controlled precision that spoke of experience in environments where mistakes meant death. Rock to rock to rock, crossing the water as though it were just another mission for him to navigate.

When he reached the opposite bank, he turned to face her, and even from this distance, even through all the layers and gear, she could see the steadiness in his posture. Solid and reliable.

"Your turn," he called, his voice carrying clearly across the water. "Don't look at the water. Focus on where your feet are landing."

Janice approached the creek's edge, her heart rate picking up despite her determination to stay calm. The rocks looked smaller from this angle, the water faster, the distance to the other side impossibly far. She'd done this kind of thing before, scrambling over rocky terrain while checking her camera stations, navigating challenging ground in all kinds of weather.

But never in a snowstorm where the rocks were slick. Never wearing boots this heavy and so much clothing that if she lost her balance, the sheer weight of her garments could tip her over into that freezing water.

The pressure settled over her shoulders like an even heavier cloak. So much was riding on this. The samples she needed to collect. The evidence that could stop Northern Summit. The wildlife and wilderness that depended on someone speaking up for them.

She felt the fear, then looked up at Cole again, and tamped the anxiety aside. I can do this… focus. Janice stepped onto the first rock.

Immediately, she understood why Cole had been so careful. The surface was treacherous beneath the snow, her boot sliding slightly before the tread found purchase on the stone underneath. She steadied herself, heart pounding, and took a breath of cold air that burned her lungs.

She moved to the second rock, then the third. The water rushed beneath her, all around the rock, and she felt the tiny droplets of snow on her cheeks that stung like needles of ice. The sound of the gurgling water filled her ears, a constant reminder of what waited if she made one wrong move.