Tucking the gun into a pocket of his jacket, Korbin started skiing in the direction of the lodge. Savanna skied ahead of him. He didn’t know the way. She did. And the safest. This was dangerous avalanche country.
Snowcapped peaks were hidden under building clouds. Pine and blue spruce trees sagged beneath the weight of snow. A blanket of smooth white powder stretched before her to the edge of the trees. She headed for a path that led to Hurley’s yurt-touring trails.
Finding the trail, she skied to a stop and looked back at her house. From here it looked peaceful. Leaving tore at her.
Korbin skied to a stop beside her. “Let’s get moving.”
She looked at him with doubt before skiing ahead of him through the trees. The sound of a snowmobile made her push harder. The man would easily find their tracks and follow.
A few minutes later, the sound faded and all she heard were their skis swishing through the snow.
At the base of the hill, she stopped. Climbing would slow them down. So would the weather. The wind had begun to blow, lifting fresh powder off the surface.
Savanna searched through the trees and listened for the snowmobile, briefly meeting Korbin’s eyes before moving on. The trail reached an avalanche chute. Korbin stopped, looking up the steep slope and not skiing across. After the heavy snow, the danger was high right now.
She skied out onto the slope, traversing it carefully until she made it to the trees on the other side. Korbin followed and they picked up the trail again.
At the top of the slope, Savanna heard something moving in the trees. She stopped to scan their surroundings.
Korbin did the same. It was probably a deer or branches falling under the weight of snow.
“How much farther to the lodge?” Korbin asked.
“We won’t make it there by tonight.”
His gaze shot to her. It was already midafternoon and snow had begun to fall.
She explained about the mountain. “Crimson Morning is the closest yurt to my house and the farthest from the lodge. We have another hard climb and then it’s mostly downhill from there to reach it. We should stay at Crimson Morning tonight and try to make it to the lodge in the morning.”
“What do you mean, try?”
“It’s going to take us another two hours to get to Crimson Morning. Maybe longer in this weather.”
He looked ahead at the trail in consternation. As an experienced skier, he had to know it took roughly an hour per mile to ski in this terrain, and another hour for every thousand vertical feet. Longer in bad weather.
“How far is the next yurt after Crimson Morning?”
“Silver Plume will take us another two or three hours.”
“Then we ski to Silver Plume today.”
Savanna tipped her head back to observe the sky. “That could be dangerous.” Wind carried heavier falling snow down upon them. She’d rather play it safe and stay at Crimson Morning.
“It’s a risk we have to take.”
She met his look. Whoever had shot at him and why must have him worried. It had her worried. It upset her calm world and thrust her into a frightening unknown. People shot at her brother Lincoln, not her. Well, Autumn, too. What was it with their family? They seemed to be living their very own action movie.