Josh (2 page)

He leaned his back against the stone and allowed himself to admire the sky streaked with deep red and pink and purple, and to relish the silence that had settled over the land as darkness descended.

“This is a good place, boyo. You come here a lot?”

The boy remained pensive, but some of the tension had slipped from his hunched shoulders.

He nodded. “It’s my thinking place. Sometimes, when I’m up here, I swear I can hear Mom telling me what to do.”

“You’ll make her proud, I’m thinking. You’ve got some very special talents, boyo.”

Josh’s head swiveled. “I do?”

“Yeah. There aren’t many lads who can climb this mountain the way you do. Not many, I’d wager, with your fearlessness. You have the sort of pioneer spirit that built this great land. You just keep on honing your skills, and your future is going to be bright.”

He could see that his words touched the boy’s heart and seemed to settle deep in his soul.

Seeing the boy relax, Big Jim pulled on his parka, and handed one to his grandson. Then he withdrew the plastic bag from his pocket and shared the corn bread and beef, wishing he had a tumbler of good Irish whiskey to wash it down.

At last, warm, replete, content, the smile came to Josh’s face. That same wide slice of mouth that was so like Seraphine’s, crinkling the eyes, putting a light in them. A smile that could brighten the darkest hour. “Thanks, Big Jim.”

The old man knew Josh wasn’t thanking him for the food, but for something much deeper. A chance to be heard. A chance to share a real conversation. A chance to know that he mattered. That he was valued.

“You’re welcome, boyo.”

The old man and the boy remained there for what seemed like hours before they began the slow descent.

When they reached the tethered horse, Big Jim pulled himself into the saddle and his grandson climbed up behind him, wrapping his arms around the old man’s waist and pressing his cheek against his broad back.

They never again spoke about the incident, but a very special bond was formed between the old man and his middle grandson during that time shared on the mountain.

Conway ranch—Present Day

H
oo boy.” Josh Conway, fresh from morning chores in the barn, shook the rain from his dark, shaggy hair before hanging a sodden rain slicker on a hook in the mudroom. He bent to wash his hands at the big sink, and stepped into the kitchen of the family ranch. “Rain’s coming down out there like the storm of the century.”

“That’s what it looks like to me, boyo.” Big Jim was standing by the window sipping coffee and watching dark clouds boiling around the peaks of the Tetons in the distance. Jagged slices of lightning illuminated the ever-darkening sky and turned the leaves of the cottonwoods to burnished gold.

Though it was early autumn in Wyoming, there was a bite to the air, hinting at what was to come.

“Do I smell corn bread? Now that ought to brighten my day.” Josh made a beeline for the counter beside the oven, where Ela was cutting a pan of her corn bread into squares.

“Wait for the others.” The old Arapaho woman rapped his knuckles with her wooden spoon, but she couldn’t help grinning as he stuffed a huge slice in his mouth before turning away to snag a glass of orange juice from a tray.

Cole, who had been going over financial papers in his office, paused in the doorway just as Quinn and his new bride, Cheyenne, came striding in, arm in arm.

“Good,” Quinn said in a loud stage whisper. “They haven’t finished breakfast yet.”

“Haven’t even started.” Phoebe, the family’s longtime housekeeper, hurried across the room to hug them both.

After the disappearance of their mother, she had been hired to help Ela with the household and to help raise the three boys. A young widow herself, she’d sold her hardscrabble ranch and moved in to become their trusted friend and confidante, and their biggest supporter as they’d made the difficult journey through childhood and adolescence. Now, looking at the grown men she’d helped raise, she was as proud as a mother hen.

“And you just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Josh deadpanned.

“That’s right.” Quinn helped himself to a cup of steaming coffee. “After morning chores at Cheyenne’s ranch, we figured we’d amble over here and see if you needed any help.”

“Amble? Bro, you had to drive a hundred miles an hour to get here in time for breakfast.” Jake, their youngest brother, and the family prankster, stepped in from the mudroom, his sleeves rolled to the elbows, his hair wet and slick from the downpour.

Cheyenne shared a smile with her husband. “I told you
they wouldn’t buy the story that we just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

“The only thing that happens to be in this neighborhood is Conway cattle,” Big Jim said with a chuckle. “And maybe a few of Quinn’s wolves and Cheyenne’s mustangs.”

“I’m betting they’d start a stampede for some of Ela’s corn bread.”

At Quinn’s remark, they all laughed louder.

“That’s one of the reasons we’re here.” Quinn turned to Ela. “Cheyenne and I have used your recipe, but it never turns out like yours.”

Josh winked at his new sister-in-law. “I bet she left out a key ingredient, just so you’d always have to come back here to get the best.”

“You see, Ela?” Jake was grinning from ear to ear. “I told you it would work.”

They all joined in the laughter.

“Sit down, everybody.”

At Phoebe’s invitation they gathered around the big wooden trestle table and began passing platters of ham and eggs, potatoes fried with onions and peppers, and Ela’s corn bread, as well as an ample supply of wild strawberry preserves, a favorite of Big Jim’s.

Phoebe circled the table, topping off their cups of coffee.

Jake filled his plate before handing the platter to Josh. “Big Jim and I are heading up to the hills after breakfast.”

“You’re heading right into the storm,” Josh remarked.

“Yeah. I’ve been watching those clouds.” Jake nodded toward the window, where the sky had been growing murkier by the hour. “Want to come along, bro?”

Josh helped himself to eggs. “Sure. A little rain doesn’t bother me. I can lend a hand. You doctoring some cattle, Doc Conway?”

Jake nodded. “Pretty routine stuff. But the work goes a lot faster with an extra pair of hands.”

When Josh’s cell phone rang, he idly glanced at the caller ID. His voice took on a businesslike tone as he answered. “Josh Conway.” He listened in silence before saying, “Okay. I’m on it.”

As he tucked his phone into his shirt pocket he turned to Jake with a grin. “Guess I’ll have to take a pass on going along with you and Big Jim. I’m needed on the mountain.”

Cole shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to climb those peaks in this storm. How come they never call on you to climb on a sunny day?”

“I guess because no fool hiker ever gets himself lost in good weather, Pa.” Josh drained his cup and pushed away from the table. “I think it’s some kind of rule of the universe that every careless hiker in the world decides to climb the Tetons just before the biggest storm of the century blows through.”

He left the room to fetch his gear, which he always kept packed and ready for emergency calls. Through the years Josh Conway had built a reputation as a fearless, dependable climber who could be counted on to locate lost hikers who couldn’t be found by the rangers.

When he returned to the kitchen, Phoebe handed him a zippered, insulated bag.

At his arched brow she merely smiled. “Something to eat on the drive to your mountain.”

“Thanks, Phoebe.” He brushed a kiss over her cheek
before giving a salute to the rest of his family. “See you soon.”

“Take care, boyo,” Big Jim said gruffly, as Josh turned to leave the room.

Big Jim listened as his grandson’s footsteps echoed through the mudroom and out the back door and then glanced at his family gathered around the table. Though their conversation had resumed, it was muted. And though they never spoke of it, every one of them knew that there was no such thing as a routine climb. Not when the one doing the climbing was there because the professionals had already tried, without success, to find a missing hiker.

Josh was their last resort. The strong, capable loner who would never give up until the one who was lost was found.

See you soon.

Josh’s parting words played through Big Jim’s mind.

Funny, he thought, that ever since Seraphine disappeared all those years ago, none of them could ever bring themselves to say good-bye.

Maybe it was just as well.

Good-bye
seemed so final.

“The missing hiker’s named Sierra Moore.” Mitch Carver, a ranger who had been working the Teton Range for over twenty years, tipped back his chair and idly tapped a pen against the desktop, the only sign of his agitation. “A professional photographer and veteran hiker. When she filled out the required backcountry use permit, she was warned of possible storms in the area, and she said she was hoping to capture them on film. I didn’t think
much of it until she failed to check in with our station. I tried her contact number, and she never responded. It could mean that she simply forgot to power up her cell. Or the storm may have knocked out any chance of a signal. But her lack of response could mean she’s in trouble. And since she didn’t fill out the names of any friends or family to contact, I decided to send Lee to track her. But she wasn’t found in the area where she’d said she was heading.” He glanced at the papers she’d filled out. “Midlevel, possibly climbing as high as the western ridge.”

“Lee knows his stuff.” Josh had worked with rangers Mitch Carver and Lee Haddon for years, and was comfortable that neither of them would ask his help unless they were convinced that they’d chased every lead they could.

Mitch returned to his pen tapping. “Lee found no trace of her. None of the rangers spotted her. So far she hasn’t taken advantage of any of the rest areas or campsites, though they’re all on alert to watch for her. It’s like she just vanished.”

Vanished
.

Josh felt the quick little shiver that passed through him and resented the fact that even now, all these years later, the word could have this effect on him.

“Okay.” He forced himself to relax. “We know she’s somewhere on the mountain. And with the storm, she’s probably hunkered down somewhere until it blows over. Mark all the places that Lee hiked, and I’ll chart a different route.”

Mitch handed over the map with a highlighted overlay.

Seeing Josh’s arched brow, he grinned. “After all these years, I’m pretty good at anticipating what you’ll ask for.”

Josh studied the trail taken by Lee Haddon. It was the logical path to the area the missing hiker had indicated. That meant that she’d been sidetracked along the way, or had chosen to climb higher than she’d first planned. The latter seemed unlikely, considering the fierce storms she must be dealing with. But he had to consider every possibility.

He began making a mental trail of his own. Though most hikers came to these mountains once or twice in their lives, this was Josh’s home turf. He didn’t need a physical map to tell him where every peak, every dangerous dip, curve, and valley, lay.

The storm changed everything, though. Here at ground level, he had to contend with only thunder, lightning, and heavy rain. If forced to climb to the higher elevations, that would change to snow and sleet and tremendous winds.

Josh picked up his gear and strode to the door of the ranger’s office. “I’ll be in contact.”

“I know you will.” Mitch Carver lifted his hand in a salute as the door closed.

Josh had been climbing steadily for hours. And though he’d found no trail, not even a trace of another human being, he continued on.

As he’d suspected, the rain had turned to sleet in the higher elevations and now had turned to a bitter snow driven by an even more furious, blinding wind. It whistled up the side of the mountain, flinging a sudden spray of ice and snow in his eyes, like a slap in the face.

He needed to stop for the day and make camp. His muscles were beginning to protest the extra effort it took to climb over slick, ice-covered rock. His fingers had long
ago lost all feeling. Despite the protective glasses, his eyes burned from the constant buffeting of wind and snow.

When he arrived at a flat stretch of space between two towering peaks, he lowered his pack and used it as a seat while he fumbled with his cell phone.

Hearing Mitch’s voice, he said, “Good. At least I have service here. I was afraid I was too high to get through.”

“You’re fading. I’ll probably lose you any second now. Any sign of our hiker?”

“Not yet. I’m at the North Ridge.”

“That high? You’ve been doing some serious climbing, my friend.”

Josh laughed. “I’m going to call it a day. Make camp here, then start a horizontal tomorrow before deciding if I want to go any higher.”

“Okay. Stay in touch.”

“You do the same.”

He tucked away his cell phone and began looking around for a spot to set up his small tent.

The wind had picked up to nearly gale force, kicking up snow in little funnels that were nearly blinding.