Autumn Skies (Bluebell Inn Romance #3) - Denise Hunter Page 0,30

she started to realize that they might very well end the trek unsuccessfully.

Conversation had gotten sparse as the day wore on. Grace intuited his disappointment and didn’t force it. She checked cell coverage periodically but struck out. Molly knew it was spotty out here. There was nothing Grace could do, though she did regret worrying her sister with the mention of Wyatt’s gun.

By 4:30 Grace realized they needed to call it a day. It would take an hour to work their way over to the road through the thick woods, and even with the downhill shortcut, it would take at least two hours to walk home. The sun would set around 7:40, nightfall at 8:15, so that only left about forty-five minutes of cushion.

Wyatt stopped and took a swig from his water bottle. His hood covered his face to his dark brows, and his jaw sported a five o’clock shadow. Even sweaty and half drowned he was a sight.

“We should probably call it quits,” he said.

Grace capped her water bottle. “I’m sorry. I know you’re disappointed, but there’s still Pine Creek and Lost Creek. And some high flat areas along both creeks that seem like what you’re looking for.”

“I’ll find it eventually, one way or another.”

“That’s the spirit.” She was out of days off this week, but he could use her equipment and move forward by himself. That thought left her a little sullen. She’d wanted to be the one to help him find what he was looking for. It was that nagging desire to be helpful. To prove—to herself, if nobody else—that she was here for a reason.

They began the cut over to the road. The going was rougher than she realized, the deer path overgrown with thorny brush and tree saplings.

She was relieved when they finally reached the road and no longer sure whether it was sweat or water running down her temples.

“It should be easy going from here.” She led the way, walking along the side of the road to benefit from the shelter of trees. “If we keep a quick pace we’ll make it in about two hours.”

“That’s about all the daylight we have left.”

Realizing he was right, Grace stepped up the pace. It was tempting to walk on the road. Even though the asphalt was cracked and neglected, it was a better surface than the uneven ground with overgrown weeds. But the rain was coming down hard. They’d make it before dark. Just barely, maybe, but they’d make it.

New muscles made themselves known as Grace descended the steep, twisty road. Not surprisingly, there was no traffic. The road only led into the mountains, and no one wanted to be up here in the middle of a rainstorm.

They rounded another bend that offered a breathtaking view of the lake, even with the low-hanging clouds. The road dipped as it turned, then began leveling out before dipping again for a one-lane bridge.

At the sight of the bridge, Grace halted so abruptly Wyatt plowed into her back, bumping her a step.

He quickly steadied her. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

Grace couldn’t take her eyes off the bridge. The road going across was submerged under the rushing creek.

Wyatt’s hands fell from her waist. “You have a plan B?”

She thought through the surrounding landscape, searching for any areas nearby where a crossing would be possible. But there was nothing.

“The creek’s too swollen to cross anywhere. If we backtrack there’s a road that cuts into this one. But it’s an indirect route back to town. It would probably take a whole day to walk back that way—and that’s if the bridge spanning the creek hasn’t also flooded.”

She pulled out her phone, hoping for a signal. The screen was black. Her stomach bottomed out. “Mine’s dead.”

Wyatt checked his. “I have a little power left, but there’s no signal.”

Grace glanced around them as if a phone booth or helicopter might materialize. But no matter how long she searched and deliberated, they really had only one option.

“Looks like we’re spending another night out here.”

Chapter Sixteen

Sunset had become a daily tradition for Molly and Adam when they were both home for the event. They loved sharing the wildly beautiful swashes of pinks and purples, and the quiet moment when the sun dropped behind the hills.

When she’d come home from the inn tonight, Adam had already put the chicken in the oven and set the table. So she started some rice and went to join him on the deck.

It was raining, so Adam had put out the retractable awning.

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