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The sound of the engine splits my thoughts, as a bright green sled slides up in front of me. Something isn't right, it came from the far side of the property, the figure obscured in snow gear that's racing toward me isn't right for Vale's size and height, and the gloved hand that grabs my wrist and pulls me from the porch is definitely not here to ask if the resort is open.
"Dammit, Sparrow, you always were too stupid to live. I don't know what you'd do with me, I swear."
The coffee mug flies from my hand as Travis yanks my wrist toward the back of the rented snowmobile's seat. I'm doing my best to gather up the bathrobe tightly against me, too desperate to keep my modesty to notice the thick cable tie till I feel it digging into my wrist and realize I'm bound to the passenger grab handle of the machine.
"Better get on." Travis sneers from behind his visor as he pushes my shoulder in an attempt to force me onto the seat. "Just swing your leg over it-- apparently you've gotten really good at putting things between your legs since you left me."
"I didn't leave you, Travis, we were never together!" I pull against the tie but my wrist is at an awkward angle that doesn't give me a chance to break free.
He's got my other wrist in his hands now, forcing me to comply with his attempts to get me on the machine while I scream for Vale.
It's no use, the engine is too loud and Vale's all the way in back of the house. I'm lucky I don't get bumped off and dragged when Travis jumps back in the pilot seat and opens the throttle up.
* * *
Vale
Sparrow's sweet singing has been keeping me smiling all morning. Even while I'm packing down the snowmobile and checking the emergency kit to make sure we'll be prepared for anything that might go wrong, I can hear her humming happy little songs all the way from the front of the house.
It's too sweet a sound to tell her to get back inside, even though I know she's out there in nothing but my bathrobe and those slippers she calls snow boots.
First thing, we're getting her some good boots till her folks can ship the rest of her stuff from back east.
The unmistakable sound of one of the newer snowmobiles on the market is headed up the mountain. From the sound of it, I'd guess it's a tourist on one of Howard Small's rented machines, taking advantage of the groomed snow on the Devil's Driveway and headed this way.
Sure enough, the mountains surrounding the resort property are reverberating with the noise soon enough. Probably someone checking the place out, wondering if the hot pools are open or if they can get a cup of hot cocoa before heading back down to return the sled.
We've been getting a lot more interest in winter hours since the ski lodge reopened. I'll be talking to my brothers about making some changes up here for next season, but for now, Sparrow and I have the mountain to ourselves and I plan on taking advantage of that.
Sure enough, I hear the engine of our uninvited guest's machine idle for a few minutes before speeding off back down the trail.
Firing up my own sled, I pull it around the front of the house, right up to the porch and jump off. Sparrow's nowhere to be seen outside, so that means she got her sexy little ass back in the house to change into some riding clothes before she gave some stranger a show, standing out here looking like heaven and sin all at once, with my robe hanging off her shoulders the way it was.
Good girl.
It's still early, we've got plenty of time left for a soak in the hot springs, and my cock is already hard, just thinking about catching her half-dressed in my bedroom.
"Birdy?"
I don't hear her singing and when I complete a check of every room, I realize the house is as empty as it is quiet.
Confusion grips me, as I head back out front, wondering if she went out to the shed looking for me and we just missed each other. My confusion turns to panic, however, when I notice the pieces of a smashed coffee mug scattered over the stone walk where I'd shoveled snow away early.
My phone goes off in my pocket and I fumble to answer it with my gloves on, hoping it's Birdy. That would mean she's still within the Wi-Fi range on the resort property.
"Vale."
Hawk's voice cuts through the eerie silence that's settled over the mountain. He's using his sheriff voice. The one that says he's a man who's used to issuing orders that don't get questioned, not the voice of the easy-going buddy he quickly became when he took over the post in Moonshine Ridge.
My gut twists and I feel sick, looking at where Birdy's boot-prints go messy in the snow beside the tracks of a snowmobile that isn't mine.
"Look, Mable Hart just called to tell me she had a guy in the museum earlier that took an interest in your family history with the Drop. Guy sounds like he's probably the same guy that came after Sparrow. Mable wanted to make sure I called to let you know, said he gave her the creeps. So I ran his license info from the records on that rental car he's been seen in-- he rented a sled from Howard this morning. Howard says he insisted on a two-seater, even though he was alone."
Back in my military days in the Corps, I survived by learning to think fast and act faster and that's what I'm doing while Hawk fills me in the best he can.
I don't have time to grab all the gear, but the 1911 and a couple extra magazines fit real well in my coat pocket and I know I can get to it in a hurry if it comes to it.
"Don't know man, but Mable was on her way to your grandmother's place while she was on the phone with me, said she's gonna bring Marcia up to your place."
