The Wayward Sister (The Wayward Sons 5)

A figure sits on an outcropping of rocks. Dark hair wound in a braid, fair skin. She looks up, and I see familiar steel gray eyes.

“Sierra?” I say, her name popping into my head instantly, even though I haven’t seen her in months. Thought about her—yes. Seen her—not once.

Her eyes brighten when she sees me, but quickly the expression of relief twists into something else. “Adrian? Well, this is humiliating.”

I can?

?t help but laugh. “It’s not humiliating. People get turned around out here all the time.”

I scan her body, looking for injury. Her boots are soaked, soles muddy. Her raven hair has slipped from her braid. Sierra is a sturdy woman, athletic and strong. Her legs are shapely and fit. She not only looks okay, she looks perfect. Just like I remember.

“Maybe not for them, but I grew up out here.” Something in her expression wavers, and she blinks rapidly.

“What happened?”

“I ran into a mama bear and her cubs. I just got out of there as fast as I could.” She frowns down at her wet clothes and boots. “I realized pretty quickly I got off the trail. Since I had service, I called Katie and stayed put.”

“You did the right thing,” I say walking over. As I get closer I see a streak of blood on her elbow. I hold my hand out. “Can I check that?”

She lifts her arm. “Oh, I didn’t even realize…I guess I ran into something; a bush or tree.”

I reach into my bag and pull out my small first aid kit, picking out a package of wipes. I take her arm gently and wipe away the blood. She flinches. “That hurt?”

“Stings a little.”

Carefully I clean the wound. “It doesn’t look too bad. I think a little ointment and a bandage will work.”

Our eyes meet. Hers are a color I’m not sure I’ve seen. Not quite blue, but gray.

“So,” I say, looking away. I pull out the supplies I need. A packet of ointment and a large adhesive bandage. “It’s been a while, how are you?”

“Other than lost in the woods?”

I smile. “Other than that.”

“Okay, I guess. I spent a few months away from Lee Vines. Traveling,” she says as if offering an explanation as to why we hadn’t seen her in months. “We” being my two best friends, Smith and Holden, both park rangers.

I nod and peel off the back of the adhesive. “Do you still own the shop?”

“I do, but my brother Dexter is running it now, along with a little help.” I lift her elbow so I can reach her better. The flesh on the underside of her upper arm is soft and smooth. “I’ve got some business in town that’s going to take a few weeks to take care of. I thought a day in the woods would do me good.”

I smooth out the bandage and assess my work. “Well, I’m happy to see you again, so maybe the fates played a hand in you getting lost today.”

She laughs. “I wish it was the fates. I’m pretty sure it’s the fact I panicked. But you’re right, it’s nice to see you, too.”

“I’m just glad to know you didn’t fall off the face of the earth.” I rub the back of my neck. “Or, you know, that Smith scared you off or something.”

Her cheeks turn slightly pink. “He didn’t scare me off.”

“You sure about that?”

“It’s not your fault your friend is a jerk.”

Smith Hutchins is one of my best friends. A brother, really. Me, Holden, and Smith all met as teenagers in a wilderness program. None of us were angels, but me and Holden had made a lot of progress over the years. Smith—he’s a good guy, but socially he comes off a bit gruff. Something happened between the two of them on New Year’s Eve. Neither are talking about it.

“I’m glad to know that. Maybe you can come around more often.”

Something in her eye flickers, a light blinking out. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now. If the fates are trying to tell me something, it’s that I’m supposed to be at home dealing with my obligations, and not taking days off.”