right away.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve hunted before. Meat has to be kept at forty degrees. The nightly lows have been in the fifties.”
Abby exchanged a nervous glance with Brooke. “They might have a cooler.”
“No. Ice is too heavy to hike in, and it won’t last a day out here. The lake isn’t cold enough, either.”
She blinked a few times, close to tears. “I want to go to the cabin.”
“Mom,” Brooke said in warning tone.
Leo stayed silent, as if he had no opinion either way.
“Three young women have disappeared in this area,” Abby said in a rush. “One right here at the lake.”
“She drowned,” Brooke said.
“They didn’t find a body.”
“You’re overreacting! They’re thieves, not serial killers.”
Abby flinched at the accusation, crossing her arms over her chest. Her anxiety seemed like a direct response to Brooke’s nonchalance. Abby had to be twice as careful to make up for her daughter’s lack of fear.
Nathan fell somewhere in the middle. He doubted the hunters were a serious threat, but he’d been wrong before. “Whatever they are, they’ll be on that trail. It’s the quickest way back to Monarch. If they think we’re following them, they might get defensive. Camping here is the safest option.”
“I don’t know,” Abby said.
“My dad and I can take turns keeping watch tonight,” Leo offered.
It was a good suggestion. Nathan agreed immediately.
Abby stepped away from Brooke and Leo, waving Nathan toward her for a private chat. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“What choice do we have?”
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“Don’t be,” he said, his chest puffing up a little. He liked the idea of protecting her. But he also felt conflicted, as if he shouldn’t enjoy the ego boost. One day in the wilderness had turned him into a caveman. “I won’t let anyone hurt you or Brooke.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“We can look at the map and choose an alternative route back to the cabin.”
“Not Lupine Meadow.”
“No.”
She exhaled a ragged breath. “Okay.”
They put on their packs and prepared to leave. If they delayed much longer, they’d be pitching tents in the dark.
“Let’s switch up the hiking order,” Nathan said. “Leo should go first.”
Leo didn’t have to ask why. He found another good-sized rock to use as a bludgeon. Nathan had a buck knife in his pocket. He hadn’t drawn it on the other side of the lake, and he didn’t pull it out now, but he was glad to have a weapon. Before they walked away, Nathan noticed a small rectangular package on the sand.
Rolling papers.
Leo saw them at the same time. Guilt flashed across his features, replaced quickly by belligerence.
“Are those yours?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah. So?”
“Tell me you didn’t bring pot with you.”
“I didn’t bring pot with me,” he said in a flat voice.
He was lying. Nathan could read the truth all over his handsome, grown-up face.
“Take off your pack,” Nathan said through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to shove Leo to the ground and rip it from his shoulders. When Leo didn’t comply, Nathan whirled him around and unzipped the front pouch.
“Don’t bother,” Leo said, shrugging away from him. “They stole it.”
“Goddamn it, Leo!”
Leo stepped back another few feet. He still had a rock clenched in his fist. He looked stubborn and rebellious and...scared.
He should be scared. Nathan couldn’t remember being this angry with him before. Tenderness and concern were difficult emotions for him to express, but rage rose right up to the surface, spilling over. “What the fuck were you thinking? Were you going to light up after we went to sleep? Share a joint with Brooke?”
“Brooke doesn’t smoke weed.”
“I did once,” she corrected.
“Who gave it to you?” Nathan asked.
Her nonresponse spoke volumes.
“I only brought it because I couldn’t leave it at home or in the cabin,” Leo said. “I wasn’t going to ‘peer pressure’ Brooke.” He made quotation marks in the air, as if he was talking about something that didn’t exist.
“Ray could have you arrested if he found your stash,” Nathan said.
Leo shrugged, playing hard-ass.
“I can’t believe you’d be so stupid.”
His eyes narrowed. “Okay, boozehound.”
Nathan felt the insult like a punch in the gut. “You know I don’t drink anymore.”
“I know you’re a hypocrite.”
They stared each other down for a moment. Leo had put on at least twenty pounds of muscle in the past few years. He wasn’t a kid anymore. Fine grains of stubble darkened his jaw. He’d started shaving. Nathan had missed his transition from boy to man.
He’d missed a lot of things.
Nathan glanced at Abby, who was watching from the sidelines. She looked sad and sorry and full of sympathy—for Leo. Maybe she thought Nathan was wrong for calling him out like this, but he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t ignore the problem and hope it went away. Leo needed help.
“Let’s talk about this later,” Abby said.
Nathan scrubbed a hand over his mouth, nodding. He remembered his first drink, given to him by his father on a hunting weekend the summer he’d turned twelve. He’d raided the camp for more beer and gotten tipsy as hell. His uncles had laughed as if Nathan was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.
He’d always considered that a good memory. Now it was sour, like the taste in his mouth when he was jonesing.
Nathan trudged forward until they reached the campsite. Although it was less than a mile from the lake, the uphill climb tired him out. They’d
