Okay, yes, maybe her first thought was Jericho. She glanced at his old window, dark now and...
“The longer we hold on toold hurts,the harder our heart becomes.”
Oh she wanted a new heart. One that didn’t flinch in defense or accusation or hurt every time Jericho was ... Jericho.“It’s not all the time God gives us asecond chance to live the life we were destined for.”
She drew in a breath. Remembered her prayer from the Bowie lodge ...Okay,God,help me trust you. Helpme trust Jericho.
Maybe it was simply she needed to trust God. Maybe that was her new heart posture—a heart that trusted God rather than herself. A heart that saw what God saw ... and offered grace and love.
She pulled on her socks, then stood, stared out into the morning.Okay God. I know I’ve been ... trouble. Andmaybe that’s how you made me,but I alsoknow I’ve been angry. And hurt and ... offended. Idon’t want to be offended.
I want a newheart.
She put her hand over her chest.Please forgiveme. Please ... give me a heart that trusts you.
She breathed in and, somehow, her ribs didn’t burn.
And the deep ache in her heart released.
So maybe, yes, there was hope in the air.
She grabbed a sweater, then headed back to the kitchen.
If Mars Sorros killed Pete to cover his tracks, then ... well, then Gabe would be next. And maybe even Jericho and her and—
She emerged to see Winter and Echo standing in the entry, wearing their coats and stricken expressions.
She slowed her step. “What is it?”
“There’s been an avalanche.” Echo’s voice cracked. “In theout-of-bounds area near the old Sterling Mine.” She glanced at Winter and swallowed, her voice turning small. “Harley ... Jericho’s missing.”
Her heart banged like a fist against her chest. And then, suddenly, all she could hear were his words from yesterday.
“Ican’t watch this. I can’t do this.”
Except, the voice sounded painfully like her own.
She caught her breath. “Okay, okay ... He’s smart. He has his beacon, I’m sure. And Orlando—”
“The dog is missing,” Winter said. “Caught in the slide too.”
Oh.
Echo caught her arm. “Winter will drive you,” she said. “I’m sorry. I need to get home.” She met Harley’s eyes, then pulled her into a hug. “It’s going to be okay.”
Harley closed her eyes.
Please,God. Give methe chance to tell him. To make this right.
Winter headed toward the door. “Let’s go.”
They dropped Echo off in town, and of course, by the time they arrived at the Eagle’s Nest, the parking lot had transformed into a command center. Deke’s Bronco, two ski patrol trucks, SAR vehicles.
Winter parked on the road, and they ran up to the slide area.
Harley’s imagination had made the slide catastrophic. In truth, snow buried the mine entrance, with trees and boulders littering the lot, but it hadn’t taken out the vehicle building—just slammed against it and buried it.
Still, the slide left ten, maybe twenty feet of snow, enough to bury a man, over the thirty-foot area.