The Noel Bridge

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

D ressed in borrowed ski pants the next morning, Alicia lifted a large backpack onto her back. She and Evelyn had stuffed it full of supplies—a blanket, two thermoses of water, a few snacks, and a first aid kit. As the women left Evelyn’s apartment and drove to Leo’s, a quiet hum of anticipation filled the air.

They pulled up to Alicia’s childhood home and got out of the car. Their breaths puffed in front of them, the frigid wind burning Alicia’s cheeks. They both seemed to notice the difficult conditions. It would be a very cold hour-plus trek through the wilderness.

“I’ve got everything packed.” Leo’s voice pulled Alicia’s attention to the door. He was wearing a ski mask with the hood of his thick coat secured tightly below his chin. “Anyone need to use the restroom before we get going?”

“I’m good,” Alicia said, walking up to meet him.

Evelyn shook her head. “I’m fine too.”

“Okay, come on inside and let’s put warmers in our boots and gloves.”

With quick, efficient movements, they began working the small warming pouches into their boots. Evelyn looked around at the décor, but didn’t say anything. They were there for a mission.

As they trudged through the thick snow, Alicia locked eyes with Leo. While the rest of his face was hidden by the ski mask, she deciphered the purpose and determination in his gaze and understood completely. They plodded toward the forest, and she was glad to be there for him, to be doing something to help, no matter what happened.

She and Leo seemed to have a connection, a dynamic she’d never experienced with anyone else. Neither overshadowed the other, and they complemented each other in a way she and Bo hadn’t. There was a natural balance to their conversation, and she respected how he’d changed his whole life for his dad. She understood putting others before herself—she did that every day with her work as a nurse. Walking beside him felt right. Even though she didn’t know what they might face today, she was ready as long as she was by his side.

The only sounds around them were their breaths and the crunch of their boots in the icy snow. A few miles down the road, people were window-shopping, buying gingerbread lattes, and enjoying the holiday season in town. Cars were most likely lined up to drive through the bridge, and then the families would settle in the area’s cafés and restaurants while Christmas music played.

Out there in the woods, the holiday was the furthest thing from her mind. This was a rescue mission, one possibly final chance to find Leo’s dad. Whatever they found—or didn’t—would impact Christmas for all three of them forever, Alicia was certain.

She pushed away the worry. She couldn’t focus on that.

They reached the tree line and wound down the hillside toward the brook. The terrain grew steeper, with the snow hiding potential stumbling blocks. Her center of gravity seemed off compared to the feeling she had when running through the area as a child. She tripped and Leo grabbed her arm, his boots sliding on the loose rock.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Evelyn stayed nearer to Alicia, as if they’d be safer in closer proximity. “I don’t remember the woods being this difficult to hike when we were kids. How would an old man walk this?” she asked.

“It’s usually flatter, but the snow is drifting,” Alicia replied. “Dean would’ve walked the trail with no problem if the snow hadn’t fallen yet.”

Leo, still silent, plodded ahead of them, creating a wider trail by moving fallen limbs to the side and breaking off any of the twigs that jutted out in their pathway. They continued until the forest floor evened out, the gap between the trees on either side of the path becoming more visible. As they crunched through the snow, Alicia pulled her scarf over her nose and mouth to protect her face from the freezing wind.

Soon a gurgle drew them to a small clearing. Alicia’s pulse quickened.

“The brook,” she said, pointing to the snaking stream of water and ice that trailed west through the forest.

The three hikers moved toward the water in unison. Alicia was already cold, and they probably had more than an hour to go. With every step, she worried what they might discover when they got to the shack. If they found it.

The area was still vaguely familiar, even buried in snow. This had been the playground of Alicia’s childhood. Despite the cold, the protective feeling that the woods had given her back then enveloped her today.

“I remember now,” Evelyn said, breaking the silence. “We went up that hill and through the valley where the stream splits.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Alicia said.

She struggled to get through another drift, her boots no match for the thick snow. Leo came up behind her and lifted her over the bank, then he helped Evelyn. Alicia didn’t have long to think about his touch before she faced the fork in the stream.

Evelyn pointed up the hill. “This way.”

They kept going for what felt like hours, but ended up being only about fifty minutes when she checked her watch. She remembered the sense of a loss of time from when she was a kid. Out there, the minutes stood still, and the world faded away. It was just her and the trees—no rules, no schedules.

Alicia could barely feel her nose, and her hands and feet were cold despite the warmers. It would be tough to make the walk back, but if they found Dean, it would be worth it. Although, how would they get him back to the house in all this snow if, by some miracle, he was there? Worst case, someone could stay with him until they could alert an emergency crew to the location.

Leo’s breath billowed in front of him. Snow had started falling again. He hadn’t said much during the journey. He was likely teetering between that last shred of faith that they’d find Dean alive and, well, the absolute panic that they wouldn’t. Or something even worse… They didn’t know what they were walking into. This was his family, the man who’d raised him. The man he’d changed his entire life for .

After another twenty or so minutes—she’d lost track—an old shack came into view. Her heart pounded. The small stone chimney had no smoke rising from it, which meant no fire was burning inside. That wasn’t a good sign, but maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. She kept coming up with plausible scenarios. Perhaps the fire had been going and warmed the room and Dean let it die down. Or maybe in the whiteness of all the snow, they just couldn’t see the smoke. She tried not to think about how all the wood was wet from the storm and wouldn’t burn even if Dean was there and could start the fire.

Leo bounded up to the door and grabbed the handle, wrenching the door open. “Dad?”

When Alicia and Evelyn reached the shack, a gray light filtered through the tree branches, settling on the wooden floor of the structure’s porch. Alicia peeked her head inside the doorway and winced at the pungent smell. Once it was clear that no one was there, Leo walked into the one-room shack and the women followed. He dug around in his bag and pulled out a small lantern and a matchbook, then lit the lantern and set it on the small table. The wood in the fireplace had all burned down to ash. Luckily, a small pile of dry wood was stacked to the side of the fireplace. Leo grabbed a handful and arranged it in the hearth before working to light it. No one said a word as he used match after match, trying to set fire to the kindling. Disappointment hung in the air like a heavy fog.

When the fire finally got going, the three of them, exhausted from the hike, stood close to it and warmed their frozen limbs while the snow continued falling outside. Alicia took her gloves off and tossed them on the table. She held her pink fingers out toward the flame to warm them. The heat spread through her, burning her icy skin.

Once she’d warmed up, she allowed herself to observe the space. It seemed as though lots of people had stopped to rest in the shelter. A forgotten sweatshirt lay in a lump in one corner, covered by leaves that must have blown in when the door had been left open. A few old pans looked as if they’d recently been used to cook fish, which was most certainly the source of the smell. Litter was strewn about as well—discarded food wrappers, old cigarette butts, and bits of fishing line.

“Looks like another dead end,” Leo finally said, frustration clear in his solemn expression.

Evelyn leaned against the wall and tipped her head back.

Apparently the sentence Alicia had made playing The Stacks had meant nothing after all. She should have figured.

“I say we stay as long as we can stomach the smell so we’re good and warm, then we’ll make our way back,” said Leo. “I can try to scrape the trout out of the pan and rinse it off in the stream. The water’s not entirely frozen in this spot.”

“I can manage the smell,” Alicia said, not wanting to put him through the trouble of freezing just to wash out a cast-iron pan. “The sulfur from the matches helped.”

“I’m fine too,” Evelyn said.

“Well, you two can be heroes if you want to, but I’m about to be sick from the stench.” He took the pan and slipped out the door, taking most of the smell with him.

“I can’t believe Mr. Whitaker isn’t here,” Evelyn said after Leo had gone. “I would’ve bet money that he’d be here. I felt it in my bones.”

“It’s so discouraging. He could have stayed warm here.”

Evelyn took off her gloves as well and warmed her hands next to Alicia. “I feel terrible for Leo. It must be so upsetting.”

“I can’t imagine.” At least Alicia had answers about Bo. Would Leo ever definitively know what happened to his dad?

Leo soon came back inside, covered in newly fallen snow, and put the rinsed pan on the table. He pulled his ski mask down under his chin. “Are you two thawing out?”

“Nearly,” Alicia said as she stepped aside and motioned for Leo to come closer to the fire. He’d yet to stay still and get warm.

Feeling better, she moved over to the table to allow him more space, but she stumbled on a warped floorboard. She put her hand on the table to catch herself.

“Ow!” she yelled when something sharp poked her finger. Bright red blood bubbled on her skin.

“What happened?” Evelyn said, turning around.

“I tripped.” She pointed to the floorboard. “When I caught myself, a nail must have jabbed me.”

“Have you had a tetanus shot recently?” Leo asked.

“Yeah. For work.” Alicia was already digging through her backpack with one hand.

“That’s good,” Evelyn said, helping her. She pulled out the first aid kit and got a cleaning wipe, a bandage, and some ointment. “Here, hold out your finger.”

Alicia complied and Evelyn got her finger cleaned and bandaged.

“Be careful,” Alicia warned as she looked around for the nail that had stabbed her. She brushed a few leaves aside when something silver caught her eye. “Oh,” she said, plucking it up. “It was a fishing lure. I should’ve guessed, given the trout that was left behind.” She held it out to Leo. “Need an extra? ”

He only half looked, his mind clearly elsewhere, but then he spun back and snatched it from her hand. He sucked in a deep breath and then blew hot air onto the lure and wiped it on his shirt. His eyes became glassy and his chest heaved with short breaths. He turned it around and showed them the inscription: a large W with an R and a D on either side.

“Richard Dean Whitaker,” he said. “I got him this specialty lure for his birthday about four years ago.”

Evelyn gasped.

“He’s been here,” Alicia whispered.

In one stride, Leo had crossed the small space and flung open the door. “Dad!” he called out into the woods, marching through the snow coming down so fast it caused a whiteout around them.

“Dad!” He rushed down to the stream. “Dad!”

Alicia pulled her gloves back on and ran outside with him. Evelyn followed. Alicia tried to listen, but nothing surfaced except for the sound of the moving water.

“How long do you think that fish had been here?” she asked Leo.

“I don’t know. Dad!” he called again.

“I’m guessing a couple days,” Evelyn said. “But, by the smell, it could have been longer.”

Leo continued to yell for his father, so Alicia started calling for him as well. But it had likely been long enough since he’d caught the fish that if Dean had been able to keep going, he wasn’t anywhere near them. Still, she continued calling for Leo’s sake.

“Dean? Mr. Whitaker? Are you here?”

“He’s not here, but he was,” Leo said, hope glistening in his eyes.

“The snow is really coming down,” Evelyn said. “We should probably head back soon. It’s already tough to know how long to follow the stream to get back. Everything’s starting to look the same.”

Leo put his hands over his eyes to shield them and looked in every direction. “I don’t want to leave if he’s been here.”

“We’ll go straight to the sheriff’s department and show them what we discovered,” Alicia suggested. “Now they have a search area, and they can fan out with more equipment and manpower.” She took his arm. “We should definitely head back.”

“All right.” Leo grabbed a handful of snow, went inside the shack, and threw it on the fire to smother it.

They began the hike back to his house, each quiet for different reasons. The buzz of excitement bounced around between them, the sound of their steps drowned out by the howl of the wind. Alicia barely felt the cold anymore. All she could think about was how her sentence from The Stacks might have saved Leo’s dad.