He took Bridget’s hand. “Where do you think he’d go? Is there a spot he’d mentioned to you?”
She shook her head, then stilled. “Wait, I might know where he’s headed.”
“Where?” he pressed. This might be their only shot.
“When we first arrived at the mountain house, Cole talked about the cabins—the ones Dan had mentioned. There are several scattered along the mountainside, but they’re summer and fall rentals and not equipped for the frigid winter temperatures.”
He nodded. It was a start.
“Do you know where they are? You’ve been here before. You came here many times as a girl, right?”
She glanced into the darkness. “Yes, they’re along the trails. Lori and I used to go snowshoeing on them with our parents. There are posts that mark which trail you’re on. See,” she said, pointing the light at a tall wooden pillar and something clicked in his mind—a snippet of a conversation he’d overheard.
“That’s what Scott and Grace did with the kids today. I heard them telling Denise and Nancy about it before I left for the chapel. How many trails are there?”
“Several and they veer off and wind around. They traverse the mountain,” she answered, then gasped.
“What is it?”
“Pixies!” she cried, shielding her face from a gust of icy wind.
He pulled her in to protect her from the arctic blast, allowing his back to bear the brunt of the cold.
“What do pixies have to do with finding Cole?” he asked, rubbing his hands on her arms to keep her warm. She’d grabbed her coat and gloves, but she had to be freezing in only leggings and a flannel beneath.
“Each cabin has a name. There’s one called Pixie Rock Cottage. Lori and I loved it as children because of the name. And remember, Cole asked us about pixies when we were putting the kids to bed. He wanted to know—”
“If a pixie was the same thing as a fairy,” he finished, putting it together.
Cole was after a Christmas fairy.
Determination edged out the anxiety welling in his chest. That had to be it. Despite pulling this late-night stunt, Cole was a bright kid. There had to be a reason for him taking a chance like this.
“Do you know how to get there?” he asked, shining the light into the trees.
“It’s the furthest cabin from here—a tiny cottage nestled into the mountain.” She took the flashlight and shined it into the inky darkness. The beam landed on a post fifty feet off in the distance. “It’s that way. We have to follow the poles with red caps.”
“That’s got to be where he’s headed,” he said, about to set off when Bridget grabbed his arm.
“He did! Look!” she cried, shining the light on the hint of a print, dusted over with a smattering of fresh snow.
Before he could even acknowledge the discovery, she took off like a shot. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he caught up to her, pushing branches out of the way as they followed the snowshoeing path.
“We have to find him, Soren,” she called, her voice a ragged scrape, but underneath the fear, steely resolve wove through her words.
The flashlight slipped in her hand, momentarily illuminating her face. She might be a petite thing, but dogged determination gleamed in her eyes—that heady vixen spark he’d seen the night he’d met her. He recognized the intense focus and the unwavering set of her jaw.
She might not know it, but she was a force to be reckoned with.
And the two of them would move heaven and earth to find Cole.
“We’ll find him!” he answered, praying he was right.
“Cole!” Bridget shouted as they passed another red-capped post, but the child didn’t respond.
The wind whistled through the thick clusters of evergreens, a stark reminder of the harsh terrain.
As much as he and Bridget were hellbent on finding the boy, the dangers that lurked in the darkness couldn’t be discounted.
No, he could not let his mind go there.
He kept moving, straining his eyes to focus on the slim light cutting through the darkness. Bridget tightened her grip on his coat sleeve. Her audible breaths were the only sound he could hear over the wind until the faint hint of a child’s voice passed by like a thread drifting on a current of icy air.
“Is that you, Christmas fairy?”
He wrapped his arm around Bridget and forced her to stop. “I think that’s Cole!”
They stood stock-still, straining to listen above the rustle of the wind through the imposing foliage.