Chapter 1
Steph
Steph Pierce’s breath fogged her gaiter, leaving a thin film on her sunglasses. The bright sun sat at odds with the cold. It was early November, and winter was already making itself known. Several recent snowfalls had laid down substantial inches.
She wondered whether today’s run would happen, since it was already snowing when she woke up, but Jocelyn stayed as dedicated to her training schedule as Steph.
They both had big races lined up over the next few months. Steph would tackle a winter endurance event called The Frozen Divide, while Jocelyn prepared for her first marathon in Deadwood, South Dakota, in July.
“I’m glad they’ve been keeping the sidewalk scraped,” Jocelyn said, lifting her chin toward a woman with a scoop shovel.
“Hello,” Steph called with a nod.
The woman stopped shoveling and leaned on it. “Hey, Steph. Jocelyn. I should be surprised to see you two, yet I’m not.” She laughed. “Be careful. Some people haven’t cleared in front of their businesses yet.”
“We will.” Steph waved. “See you Wednesday?”
“Maybe. I’m not nearly as dedicated as you two. Running in the snow doesn’t hold much appeal.”
“Keeps you strong for shoveling,” Jocelyn called with a laugh.
The sidewalk narrowed where a real estate office had only managed a halfhearted attempt at clearing, leaving a ridge of packed snow along the edge. Steph picked her way around it, her trail shoes finding purchase on the gritty surface beneath.
“She’s not wrong,” Jocelyn said, falling back into step beside her. “About the dedication thing. My sister thinks I’ve lost my mind. My mom, too, though they’re both excited I’ll arrive in town a few days before to visit them.”
“Your sister thinks anyone who wakes up before eight on a Saturday has lost their mind.”
Jocelyn laughed, her breath pluming out ahead of her. “Fair.”
“You’re still going home for Christmas, right?”
“Maybe. Depends on the weather. I hate making that drive if it’s too bad. Besides, I’m not sure I’ll be fully recovered from my Christmas shows.”
“Taking on two this year does seem like a lot.”
Jocelyn was the cofounder of the Irma Community Theater. She and her business partner usually did four or five plays a year, including one in December, the weekend before Christmas. This year, they weren’t only doing their play, but Jocelyn joined forces with another theater group in a neighboring town to do a Christmas musical. Jocelyn tried to hide it, but Steph knew she regretted the decision and the extra work it brought.
“At least my marathon training hasn’t ramped up yet,” Jocelyn said as they approached an intersection. “I know they’re planning a spring musical too. I can’t imagine I’ll be able to be a part of that.”
“It was good of you to help them. Maybe they’ll have enough knowledge of how things work by then to handle it on their own.”
Steph found it odd that Jocelyn was so willing to help another theater group, even though it could mean a loss of revenue for her own business if they had productions on the same night. Steph knew herself well enough to know she wouldn’t do it. She was, in fact, knee-deep in a similar situation and hated every aspect of it.
They turned onto Grand Avenue, the main street through town. Monday morning traffic was just starting to pick up. If it weren’t for the snow, she and Jocelyn would’ve chosen one of the trails or paths around town. If she’d been running on her own, she might still have chosen a trail. Snow or no snow.
Running in snow was an important part of her training, but the truth was, the idea of running the trails alone created a knot in Steph’s stomach—a knot that had no right to be there.
A couple of months earlier, her good friend Brooke had been attacked on a trail at the edge of town. It had been a targeted attack, and they caught who they believed was responsible, but the memory unsettled Steph and made her doubt the wisdom of running trails alone.
Steph had never experienced anything close to what Brooke had. She knew that running in some areas, alone as a female, was dangerous.
But this was Irma.
A safe and friendly town in a safe and friendly county within the state of Wyoming. Things like what happened to Brooke, and things like what happened to other runners in the big city, simply didn’t happen here.
And yet it had happened.
While Brooke had survived, the experience changed not only her but all the runners in the Basin County Running Club. They’d even teamed up with an instructorat a local martial arts studio for a couple of self-defense classes. Steph had taken similar classes in the past, but it was important to have a refresher.
