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possibly tell him that her husband might’ve sent a raven hit squad to hassle her. It sounded so fantastic, Tim might pull some doctor thing and send her off to the loony bin. After all, he had her boss’s phone number.
    She glanced behind him. Something didn’t compute. “Who were you traveling with?”
    “Huh?”
    “I heard more than one of you coming down the trail.”
    Tim looked genuinely confused. “Nope. Just me. You’re the first person I’ve seen since I left the trailhead.”
    Okay, then...
    Had she been so overwrought from the ravens, she imagined more than one set of footsteps? To avoid wandering still farther down the metaphorical slope of her sanity, Moira edged toward more neutral territory. “Guess you decided to follow me anyway.”
    He offered her a crooked smile. “Yup. Didn’t want to let opportunity escape me twice. Besides, I just got great news. I wanted to find you so I could share it.”
    A warm glow started deep inside, but she forced herself to refocus. “Did you bring warmer stuff than what you have on?”
    He looked sheepish. “Uh-uh. Didn’t think it would be this cold. The forecast was for clear weather. And the pass took longer than I thought it would.”
    “It’s six thousand feet of climbing.”
    He shrugged. “I’ve run Western States and a few Iron Mans. I’m used to elevation gain. When my pack is light, I can cover five or six miles an hour—sometimes more. It’s how I caught up with you. By moving faster.”
    Moira didn’t bother to tell him a sponsored ultrarace with rest stations every few miles and volunteers pacing the runners, bore very little resemblance to solo backcountry travel. Speed wasn’t nearly as critical in the wilderness as having enough equipment to see you through an emergency.
    “What kind of sleeping bag do you have in there?” She pointed to his small backpack.
    Color stained his tanned face. “Um, just a bivy sack and my down jacket and pants.” He reached for her. “I thought, er hoped, we could keep each other warm.”
    She shook her head and crooked a finger at him. “Come on. We can talk about that later. Not much privacy in a trail crew camp for more than talking, though. We need to get moving. It’s too cold to stand around chewing the fat.”
    A smile transformed his face into something classically handsome. Clean lines of cheek and jaw blended into one another. “I’d follow you anywhere, mo ghrá . Lead on.”
    Moira scampered down the trail, elated Tim cared enough to come after her. But she felt wary too. If Ryan truly had sent the birds, Tim’s presence would only make things worse. The sky, which had backed off momentarily, was getting darker again, heavy clouds blotting out what was left of light from the day.
    She was shocked by how little Tim had brought with him. If the weather turned truly hideous, his best bet would be to retrace his steps and retreat over Baxter. But that option was looking less likely by the moment.
    He made a choice without consulting me, and now I’m responsible for him and me both.
    Her earlier delight faded. Another involuntary shiver ripped through her. She had a feeling—irrational though it might be—that the birds would be waiting for her near the lakes. What would she do then?
    Unfortunately, no answers came.
    “Somehow I thought you’d be happier to see me.”
    Moira turned to glance at Tim, keeping pace right behind her. “Just thinking. Sorry.”
    “Are you angry because I came after you told me not to?”
    “Maybe, a little. There’s a trail crew down below that I’m supervising. This isn’t like a regular backpacking trip where we’d have time to reconnect.”
    “Isn’t it a little late in the year for trail maintenance?” He sounded mildly curious.
    “Yeah, but we didn’t get funding approved for deadfall removal until a couple of weeks ago.” She shrugged. “Your government at its finest.”
    He laughed. “You’re telling me! I work for them too. Public