Walker's Run (2 page)

Peyton Maynard, a giant of a man at six-foot-five, was hefting a load of glasses to place under the backside of the bar.

Casey sidled up and slipped over the bar top like she had done so many times as a teenager.

“If I didn’t know it was you, you’d have been in for some trouble,” her father said pointing to the Louisville Slugger and the forty-five magnum he kept under the bar-top near the register.

“I missed you, too, daddy.” She grinned when he turned to her.

He scrutinized her carefully for a few moments. “You’re too skinny baby-girl.” Moving forward, he abruptly scooped her up, giving her one of his welcoming, bone-obliterating hugs.

She giggled, holding him tight and feeling the tears well in her eyes. Blinking them back when he set her down, Casey didn’t miss the moisture she saw in his eyes.

“I just wish Dean and I’d a little more notice. But with opening the new location, there is no way either of us can get away to meet up with you until the weekend.” He frowned and leaned against the counter.

“It’s just three days daddy. I can handle that alone. You and Dean can meet me Saturday.” Casey grabbed a bottle of water from the ice chest. “I need this time. There are some things I need to think over before I completely lose my mind. The stress is really getting to me.”

Peyton nodded, rubbing a large hand around the back of his broad neck. “I understand, though I never imagined it would take ten years.”

A few extra lines around his eyes were the only difference she was able to notice during her four year absence. Her father was an astonishingly good-looking man. Still in fighting form with as solid a build as he’d been while on active duty.

“Well, Dean and I packed everything up for you. Can you still carry it all?” He smirked, his emerald gaze showing merriment.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes daddy, if nothing else I managed to keep up our old exercise regime.”

“Good, I packed a few extra bottles of propane for the heater. They are calling for a storm come the weekend, so Dean and I will bring extra supplies.”

“I saw a small storm in the forecast for this evening.”

He nodded and shrugged. “I figured you could handle it. It’s not like you haven’t roughed it before.”

Casey grinned. “You’re damn right.”

With a proud smile, he hugged her to him again. “Good to have you home baby-girl.”

* * * *

Pulling her old SUV into the lot, Casey got out and fetched the rucksack and added to it her own supplies. The five mile hike in with all the equipment would be a long one. They had used the same campground for as far back as she could remember.

She smiled, rifling through the pack and supplies. Her father and Dean had made sure to prepare her with MRE’s and her father’s special deer jerky and trail mix. Securing the straps around her waist, she grunted with the weight. It had been a long time since she’d tried to hike with this much equipment. Grabbing her camera bag, she locked the vehicle and began the long walk.

A little more than a mile down the trail into the forest, Casey heard a four-wheeler approach. Turning, she was surprised to see a familiar face.

“Well if it ain’t Casey Maynard!” the old Ranger said laughing. He slid off the all-terrain vehicle and stepped in front of her. “I can give you a ride out to your campsite. Save you the hike and help you set up before nightfall.”

Casey grinned. “Jazzy Massengill, I thought you’d have retired by now you old coot!” She laughed, and he stepped forward to help her take the pack off.

“Not yet honey, I still have quite a few good years left. So how is it out in Los Angeles?”

“Absolutely crazy, Jazzy. I’ve come home to get my bearings and try to figure out a few things. Maybe getting back to my roots is what I really need.”

The old Ranger smiled again. “I know your dad and brother are glad to have you home. Are they coming out to meet you?”

“Saturday they will.”

He frowned a moment and shook his head. “Were it any other young woman coming out here on their own, I’d have taken you right back out to the lot. But I know your father taught you how to handle yourself in the wilds. You got a gun?”

She nodded and motioned to the pack. “Daddy’s shotgun, my three-eighty, a bow, and daddy’s old hunting knife.”

“Good girl. Well, hop on and I’ll take you in. There’s supposed to be some snow tonight you know.”

“I have propane.”

“Well then gal, let’s get you in and set up.”

Braedyn Walker surveyed the forest from his vantage point on the ledge of a cliff. It was a crisp, cool day. He could hear Jazzy Massengill on his old four wheeler and frowned. It wasn’t like the old man to be off-trail.

Tucking the notepad into his hiking pack, he began the descent from the cliff, using hand and footholds that had been created long before he’d been born.

The Cabinet Mountains were his home, and his knowledge of this forest had been bred into him. A few days roughing it was in the plans. He would write another article for the survivalist magazine he contributed to and just relax.

His plan was to hike over to the Rural Ranger Tower to share a nice dinner of whatever he’d managed to hunt and swap recipes with the ranger on duty. It had been too long since there had been a chance to snag a few days to himself. He wasn’t far enough away from the stresses, but it was a job won by blood shed. Not one that could be walked away from.

Whoever needed him would know exactly where he was.

Upon reaching the bottom of the cliff, Braedyn set off in the direction of where Jazzy had been. If the old Ranger was where he figured, trouble was on the horizon.

Hiking up the other side of the valley, he made sure the approach was silent. His stomach dropped when he neared the old campsite. There was one tent, supplies for a single person on an extended stay.

This wasn’t good. Not this week. Not now.

There was a glimpse of platinum blond hair, and Braedyn’s breath caught.

Casey.

He peered from his hiding place, watching her gather kindling and logs. She had grown into a beautiful woman, possibly in her early thirties by now. But it was the smile that lit up her face. It was contagious.

She’s in danger
, he reminded himself.

Braedyn had been her secret guardian for years whenever she’d come to the forest. His stomach knotted. This was not a good time.

“Casey,” he whispered her name into the wind and couldn’t help but smile.

It had been six years since he’d seen her last. Twenty years from their first and last personal encounter. That moment had been burned forever into his mind for many reasons. She had been his first friend outside of his family and close-knit community. The first to accept him and show him that humanity, for all its faults; was kind, caring, and absolutely naïve.

Sighing, he slowly backed away. So much for a few days of peace, he now had a job to do.

He had to protect her.

Casey was alone.

There was a target on her head.

And they weren’t but a few days away from the full moon.

* * * *

Without the long hike and the additional time to set up on her own, Casey’d had time to do some exploring and picture taking before having to hunker down for the night.

Taking a deep breath, Casey lowered her Nikon and blew onto her hands as she looked down into the forested valley below. There had been quite a few spectacular shots taken throughout the day, and she couldn’t wait to get back to her old dark room to develop them. An entire day surrounded by the wilderness had been exhilarating.

A smile curved the edges of her mouth while she surveyed the greenery. She felt alive. The way her career had taken over her life the last ten years, she’d been running headlong into a nervous breakdown.

This was her first vacation in years; so far it was everything she’d hoped it to be. It felt good to be back in the wilds of northwestern Montana, camping in the wilderness of the Cabinet Mountains.

Having grown up a tomboy, she’d almost spent more time hiking and camping through its rough country than at home. Casey missed being under the stars with just her dad, brother, and herself. She ached to feel the way she had as a child; carefree and full of hope.

The tang of evergreens hung heavy in the air, and she tucked a few stray strands of silvery blond hair behind her ear. Raising her Nikon once more, she peered through the viewer and spanned the greenery. An odd grey blotch drew her attention. Narrowing her eyes, she zoomed in. A gorgeous grey wolf came into view.

Casey smiled. “Wow, after all these years.”

The large wolf closed his eyes and raised his nose in the air. It was a photo of him that landed on Arlen Andrews’ desk twelve long years ago and jump-started her Hollywood career.

It was difficult to forget the deep grey coloring and black streaks that surrounded and rose from the corners of his eyes. The marks met together behind his head, then pooled into a saddle mark across his back. But most of all, she remembered the pale grey eyes.

The wolf looked directly into the lens and her hands shook. Those eyes didn’t belong to a wolf. Hell they didn’t belong on an animal period. They were so…human.

Lowering the camera a moment to see how close he was, Casey frowned when she couldn’t see him. She looked through the viewer again. He was gone.

“Damn.”

Casey pursed her lips, leaned against a tree, and looking around, reveled in the peace she felt here. Shivering, she noticed the sun was making its decent. The temperature was supposed to drop into the upper twenties. She needed to get back to camp for the night.

Hefting the pack onto her back, she set out for the mile hike. Keeping her eyes peeled for anything interesting, hope blossomed in her chest for the chance to see the wolf again.

It would be nice to take some pictures of him now and group them with some of the older shots. They would make for an interesting layout. Getting back into her original passion would feel good. Wildlife photography had been her life goal until fame and fortune knocked on her door.

The truth settled in. Casey had made up her mind even before seeing the wolf again. There was no way she was going back to L.A. and Hollywood. She was done.

On her way back to camp, she picked up more kindling, there could never be too much. The fire pit had already been laid out. It didn’t take long before a nice fire was roaring.

The temperature dropped. A definite change was in the air. Vapor clouds from her breath seemed to crystallize in the air before her. The snow would start soon; she pulled out an extra bottle of propane. Before the night was over Casey knew she’d need it.

With a cup of instant coffee and some of her dad’s famous deer jerky and trail mix, the campout staples, she sat on a log near the fire. It amazed her something so simple as these few things could evoke such strong and warm emotions from her childhood. Growing up with just her dad and brother, Casey’d learned many things most girls didn’t. Looking back, she realized just how much their father had prepared her and Dean for the grueling years once they left home.

The crackling of the blaze soothed her in ways she hadn’t been in a long time. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth when the realization dawned. She’d managed to reach her goal. Gone was the tension in her neck and shoulders. Her jaw wasn’t sore anymore from the constant clenching and biting her tongue. Casey was relieved and completely at peace. This was where she needed to be.

While stoking the fire, she realized the sounds of the forest had quieted. It was a sure sign snow was on the way. The animals were smart enough to hunker down and wait out the storm. The forecast predicted two to three inches with the storm. Casey couldn’t wait to be surrounded by it and feel the peace that came with being one with the elements.

Many times she’d watched the first snow of the season while camped out with her father and brother. She was well prepared to deal with anything Mother Nature tossed at her during her brief stay. Her father had packed extra supplies in case the snowfall was more than predicted or should her stay be extended before they could meet up with her. Casey almost hoped it would.

From past experience she knew wolves began their prowl soon after sunset. Staring into the forest, Casey watched for movement. They were smart enough to stay away from her scent. She’d been cautious of the meals she intended to make so as not to draw any unwanted attention from the hungry animals in the forest.

Her father had made sure she had all that was necessary for hunting and dressing her kills. Peyton had packed the essentials: an axe, a double barreled shotgun, her three-eighty pistol, and a bow. But by far, her favorite was her father’s old hunting knife with its ten inch blade honed to perfection and sharp enough to shave with.

Relaxing, she unsnapped the guard over the three-eighty holstered on her side for easier access. Her father made sure he taught Casey and her brother, Dean to always be prepared.

Her father and brother were both Black Ops Marines, and they made sure she knew everything they did about survival. Growing up with the two tall and burly men, Casey knew it would be a challenge to find the perfect man to replace them in her life. They’d proven time and again they were dependable and committed to caring for her and preparing her for life without them. So far, she’d been unable to find one who could hold a comparative candle and that saddened her.

The snap of a brittle twig brought Casey from her musings. She looked around for the source. Animal eye shine caught her attention. It was merely a raccoon. Noticing her attention, it turned and scampered out of sight. She laughed and took a sip of her cooling coffee.

With a grimace, she pulled the warmed pot from the fire and added a little more hot water to her cup. The first howl in the distance made her smile. The call was answered a moment later and yet another joined in. She pulled her father’s thick wool blanket around her shoulders and took another swig of coffee.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of the cold air mixed with the smoke from the fire. It had been far too long since there had been time to enjoy nature and she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten how much she truly loved being immersed in it. Casey snuggled down into the blanket. Warmed by the fire and memorable thoughts of her childhood, she dozed.