Snowstorm of Our Past novel · Chapter 29 of 32

Chapter 29: First Snow

"No reason," I repeated.

"None."

"Gabe Haynes, you've never said 'no reason' in your life."

"I'm growing as a person."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He looked at the mountains with a completely straight face, and kept looking at them until I gave up.

The front came in on the first Friday of October, right on time.

I'd forecasted it to the hour, and I was a little smug about it.

By Saturday morning there were eight inches on the ground in town and more falling, big and soft, onto aspens that were still gold.

Gran took Tilly at seven.

She didn't ask where we were going.

She just looked at Gabe for a long moment over her coffee, and then she said, "Dress her warm," and went back to her crossword.

Gabe drove north on Highway 24.

I knew where we were going again.

"You know I wrote the forecast," I said. "It's considerable danger on the high slopes. Wind loading on the east aspects."

"I read it." He glanced at me. "We're staying in the runout. Flat ground, trees all around. Low angle."

"You planned this."

"I've been planning this since August."

The trail through the trees was buried in fresh powder.

The dog plowed ahead of us, leaping through the drifts, snow flying off his ears.

We came out at the bottom of the old slide path.

It looked different with the gold leaves still on the aspens at the edges, and the snow coming down so thick and quiet you could hear it land.

Gabe stopped at the toe of the debris field, on the flat.

"Okay," he said. "Turn on your beacon."

"What?"

"Switch it to search." He looked very serious. "There's been a burial."

I stared at him.

"Gabe."

"Clock's running, Brooks."

I pulled my beacon out of my jacket and switched it to search.

It picked up a signal right away.

Strong and close.

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