As the flakes became larger and the ground began taking on a white tint in the growing gloom, she wondered where Cal was, and what he was doing.
Cal had picked up a broken limb as thick as his thumb and was using it to poke into any clump of undergrowth that looked as if it might harbor a small cave, an overhang, anything that would provide them sufficient shelter for the coming night. He was acutely aware that bears wouldn't have gone into den yet - the season was still too early - so he'd hung the trenching tool back on his belt and instead unbuttoned the right pocket of his camouflage jacket, pulling out his bolstered nine-millimeter automatic. Normally he would have worn the holster on his belt, or strapped to his thigh if he'd been on a mission, but while climbing rock, he hadn't wanted to wear it where it could become snagged. Instead he had secured it in his coat and made certain the pocket was buttoned. When the jacket had been rolled and secured on his back, the automatic had been snugged against his body. The pistol wasn't the best weapon for facing a bear, but it was a hundred times better than a trenching tool.
He was allowing himself only so much time to find a rock shelter. There were plenty of overhangs, but they were either too shallow or the rock was cracked or the ground beneath them didn't seem stable. Some of them had water running out of them; since one of his requirements was that their shelter be dry, that eliminated those possibilities. If he didn't find one soon, he'd have to use the remaining light, poor as it was, to build a lean-to. Since the ground wasn't exactly level, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Finally he saw something that had possibilities. A prow of granite jutted out at a slight upward angle, balanced on another giant slab. These weren't going anywhere - they'd been there so long they were mostly buried, with mature trees growing on top of the prow. Another of those giant firs grew on the south side of the opening underneath, partially blocking it. Brushing aside the limbs that hung almost to the ground, he squatted and surveyed the interior. It was about ten feet long and shallow, no more than five feet deep, and the highest point in the opening was about the same. That was good, because small spaces were easier to warm than large ones.
He'd brought a small flashlight, so he clicked it on and swept the light into every corner, looking for snakes, dead rats, live rats, anything with which he wouldn't want to spend the night. There was debris, of course, and some insects that scurried away from the light. The fire would take care of them.
He broke a small limb off the fir and used it to sweep out his chosen sanctuary, then used the trenching tool to gather more branches from the surrounding trees, not taking too many from any one tree, and laid the limbs in a Crosshatch pattern on the floor of the opening. Not only would the evergreen freshen the musty smell, but the limber branches would provide something of a cushion for the sleep mat. He could sleep on the ground, rolled up in his blanket, but Cate would be more comfortable on the rough mattress.
At least they could have a fire tonight. The slope they were on faced east, away from the shooters. The trees overhead would filter the smoke through their branches, breaking it up so it didn't form a plume, and the weather would dissipate it anyway. A little light and a lot of warmth would go a long way toward making them more comfortable. Besides, he had to get Cate's shoes dry.
The rain had changed completely to snow, and it began swirling down fast enough that the ground began turning white despite being so wet. He didn't like that, not just because of the snow, but because after dark the temperature would plummet and whatever was wet would develop a slick coating of ice. Their only hope was if this was a fast-moving front, with warmer rain behind it.
He had other things to do, but he didn't want to leave Cate sitting alone in the cold any longer than he had to. The sooner she got into their little shelter and he could get a tire started, the sooner she could pull off her wet shoes and socks and start warming her feet. He could finish securing the shelter afterward.
There was about twenty minutes of light left by the time he could make his way back to her; the thin layer of snow was incredibly slippery. Several times he had to use the trenching tool to catch himself. The drops of water still on the tree branches were beginning to freeze, making a faintly clinking sound in the wind.
"I have us a place," he said, and she looked up from where she'd buried her face against her knees. The poncho was pulled up over her nose to warm the air she breathed, and her eyes were more alert; they had begun to take on the dullness of suffering, which had worried him a lot more than he'd let her see. "It's dry, and we can build a fire."
"You said the magic word." She crawled out from under the sheltering branches with more energy than she'd shown crawling under them. The rest had refreshed her. She would have been in much better shape if he'd insisted she wear boots, but he hadn't expected rain and snow. He didn't have arthritis to warn him of changing weather, and he hadn't been able to watch the Weather Channel for the past couple of days. For all he knew, a record-breaking early-season blizzard had been predicted.
"The rain has started freezing," he said. "Getting back is going to be tough, because the ground is so slippery. Don't take a step unless you're holding on to something."
"Got it." She pulled out her hammer and gripped it in her left hand as he loaded himself down with all the gear he'd earlier removed. He started out, moving as easily under the weight as he had without it, and she carefully followed.
Cate's feel were still miserably cold and wet, but while she'd been resting, she had constantly flexed her toes to increase the blood flow in them, so she wasn't as clumsy as she'd been before. Still, she hoped the shelter he'd found wasn't far, because light was fading fast and the snow was getting heavier, filtering down through the trees in eerie silence.