over the orange and brown litter on the trail, and enough rain that the rapids of the Wills River roared up ahead.
Uno sniffed at the trunk of a tall pine and stuck her nose deep in the dirt, but she was no truffler. The chanterelles she was looking for were a few feet from the trees, fruiting up from the rich soil, and I spotted their orange, fan-shaped bodies. I was a search and rescue guy, but I was more than happy to help with environmental research like tracing and recording mushroom species when it was quiet—which was hardly as often as I’d like. If I didn’t have such a thing about helping people, maybe I could have been happy as a botanist.
“Looks like foxes.” I crouched by the clump of mushrooms and pointed at the small teeth marks left on the bodies where the fruit had been nearly shredded. “Or maybe a hungry dog?”
I nudged Uno with my elbow, and she gave me a bewildered look, as if shocked I’d ever suggest such roguish behavior from her. She trotted down the trail while I made note of the mushrooms in my book, pocketed it, and hurried after her.
Fall was peaceful in the woods, and I was happy to be back in my element after the drama from the city. It had been three months since Seb appeared in our lives, and while I didn’t hold it against the guy, I was glad things had started to settle down in his life. His dickhead brother’s hearing was just adjudicated, and Seb had done a great job testifying, and maybe now the guy—who was practically my bro-in-law—could really relax.
Speaking of relaxing, I’d never seen Derek so content. I was beyond happy for him. Seb wasn’t the type of guy he would have seen himself with on paper, but they were made for each other. I’d known it the minute I met Seb, and damn, I liked to be right.
“He’s a good egg, isn’t he?”
Uno glanced back at me and wagged her tail in agreement before she took a short detour off the path to lap at the edge of the river. I followed and stood by her with my hands on my hips and gazed upstream at the disappearing light as the sun set behind the trees. The cold air blowing off the river made me shiver, and the current was so loud I could barely hear myself think. Exactly how I liked it.
Uno spun around, and I glanced over my shoulder to see what the big deal was. Nothing. Just golden light filtering through the trees.
“Squirrel?” But there were no swaying branches or falling leaves to suggest as much. The birdsong continued without interruption, but Uno still wagged her tail and lifted her chin like something was up. I was getting the heebie-jeebies before she nudged my hip with her wet snout, and I finally got the message when she barked right at my radio.
“Oh, shit.” I hadn’t heard the radio buzz because of the rapids, but when I lifted it to my ear, I could hear the staticky fuzz of a call-in. “Eli reporting, over.”
“Miss— ike— get. Over.”
I rattled the radio, blocked my other ear with a finger, and asked for clarification. “Say again? Over.”
“Miss- hiker. Back to head— debrief.”
“On my way, over and out.” I dropped the radio to my side, gave Uno a directive whistle, and followed her as she bolted back down the trail we’d come from. She glanced back and forth for trouble, but her tail was high and wagged as we bounded down the well-worn path, sprinted through patches of brush, and then leaped out of the trailhead at the near-empty parking lot toward our truck.
In a single leap, she bounded into the back and barked for me to hurry up. I huffed and threw myself into the cab, gunned the engine, and sped the ten minutes to the headquarters at the gate of the park.
Uno barked again and jumped to the ground as I pulled up. The front door of the single-story cabin flew open and Jacob’s silhouette came into view.
Our operation was a small one, but it was a tight ship, thanks to my fearless leader, Jacob. Most of the rescues I’d done at his park were of hikers who knew their shit but got unlucky, or complete novices who were totally unprepared for what nature was harboring in her depths.
I loved being stationed at Cumberland, because it was the right blend