Page 104 of Shared By the Mountain Men Triplets

The sound startles a raven, who launches from a tree above me with an indignant croak.

Yeah,I tell it silently,I’m annoying myself, too.

My radio crackles with Cade’s calm voice. “Everything good, Doc?”

“Everything’s good,” I answer. “The elk are using the western corridor again.”

“Good to hear,” he says after a pause.

I glance toward the ridgeline east of me, though I know I won’t see him unless he wants me to. He’s somewhere above the old junction checking trail conditions for a two-night group Rhett booked for later this week.

Wilder Outfitters has been busy for the past two months, and Cade’s been mapping new routes that avoid sensitive habitat without sacrificing the views their clients come for.

Before I met them, their business had been in trouble because Turner was undercutting them. Now, they’re booked six weeks out.

Apparently, “guided by the men who helped dismantle a cartel route through the mountains” is a big draw. They’re not actually saying that in their marketing, but Boone did order hats and t-shirts that say: Wilder Outfitters - Guides You Can Trust (Good stories included).

“Boone wants to know if you’ve seen his missing cooler,” Cade says over the radio.

I look down at my boots, then toward the utility track where my agency truck is parked. “I’m conducting a federal ecological survey.”

“Copy that. No cooler.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Another voice cuts in, this one charming and shameless. “Baby, if you stole my good cooler for field samples again, just say so.”

I press the radio closer to my mouth. “I borrowed it.”

“You’ll pay for that later, darlin’, and I think you know exactly what I mean,” Boone says.

My cheeks suddenly get hot because I do know what he means, and it makes me want to steal a few more coolers.

“Did the elk come back?” Boone asks.

I look out at the herd again, where two of the calves are playfully sparring. “They came back,” I say.

“Hell yeah, they did,” Boone says.

Then Rhett’s voice comes across the channel with the same calm authority that still has the power to straighten my spine and warm my stomach at the same time. “Wren, status?”

My eyes narrow, even though he can’t see me. “My status is that I’m standing in a meadow trying to do my job, while all three of my men use a secure radio channel to harass me about a cooler.”

“Your scheduled check-in was six minutes ago.”

“I was watching elk.”

“Your scheduled check-in was six minutes ago,” Rhett repeats.

Boone laughs, and though I don’t hear any response from Cade, I swear I can feel his amusement in the air.

I turn slowly and take in my surroundings, remembering briefly how this time last year I was stuck at a desk bordered by gray cubicle walls. Now, there’s a meadow, trees, and late-summer sun pouring over the pass. I haven’t completely left behind the fear from all thathappened out here, but it’s settled into something that’s less panicky and more like the original awareness of potential dangers that I had when I first came here.

“Fine,” I say into the radio. “Status: alive, uninjured, mildly irritated, emotionally moved by elk, and in possession of one borrowed cooler.”

“Copy,” Rhett says.

“She misses us,” Boone says.