“I guess we’ll find out.”
Winona shouldered her pack. “We should get going.”
“All aboard.” Henriksen gestured toward his vehicle.
* * *
Winona held backwhile Jason moved through the site of the camp, cutting for sign. How he could make sense of it was beyond her. So many people had walked through here, the muddy earth a confusion of boot prints. Though the Forest Service had already removed Thomas Graham’s structures, belongings, and trash, signs of environmental damage were everywhere—the trunks of felled trees, a pit toilet that had held human excrement, a wide area of mud where there should have been grass and duff.
Jason knelt, touched his fingers to the soil. “The wolf has already been here. These tracks are from early this morning. He was walking around the area where the smokehouse used to be.”
Winona glanced at the forest around them, wondering whether the wolf was still nearby. “He’s hungry.”
“I’ll set a trap there.” Ranger Henriksen got to work.
He had his job, but Winona had hers. She wanted to find the wolf before it stepped into a trap.
“He went west from here.” Jason followed the tracks, and Winona followed him.
They hiked up the mountain, snow crunching beneath their boots.
Owoooo!
Winona stopped, listened. She heard the loneliness and fear in that howl, and her heart broke. “He’s searching for his pack. He’s all alone.”
She needed to find him, to reunite him with his mate and pups.
Jason’s gaze was on the snowy ground. “This way.”
They’d gone another ten minutes when Henriksen caught up with them. “Did you hear that howl?”
Winona nodded. “He’s close, and he’s scared.”
“We should head in this direction.” Henriksen pointed to the northwest. “Up there is where the four-wheeler overturned.”
This time, Jason answered him. “That’s not where the wolf went.”
Henriksen stared at them for a moment. Winona didn’t begrudge him. She knew he had a supervisor to please and different priorities.
He relented. “I’m going to call this in and tell them we spotted it. That’s not exactly true, but you’ll back me up.”
“I will.” No problem there.
“It will at least buy us time to pursue. But if we don’t make visual contact within an hour, we’re going back to the original plan. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Winona was genuinely grateful. “Thank you.”
They trudged on, stopping once for water and a snack. Then the wind picked up, clouds moving in from the west.
Henriksen reached for his hand mic, asked dispatch for a weather update, got no answer. “I’ve lost radio contact.”
Winona checked her cell phone. “No service.”
Owoooo!
Another plaintive howl.
“We’re getting closer.”