Iris Wentz took a deep breath and cracked her neck before she even dared to glance down at the letter she held in her balled-up left fist. There was a safe place to go, but she couldn’t. Right now she needed to be by herself and not with the family who looked upon her and loved her like she was blood. Their blood.

Growing up in a number of different foster homes hadn’t been the easiest for her. But then she’d landed at the Wentz home. Althea Wentz had been her lifesaver and had given her the family she’d always craved. Not to mention eventually giving her not one but two younger sisters that she loved more than anything. She had brothers also, but she doted on her sisters.

Didn’t change the fact she needed to do this on her own. A huff from her left leg had her smiling. Okay, not totally on my own.

She was at the home she’d declared as her childhood one, her mom having called her, letting her know there was some mail waiting for her. “Come along, Piros. Let’s figure this out.”

The Hungarian Vizsla at her side set off with her the moment she moved. He kept pace, not venturing away from her despite the fact he only had on a collar. This one was dark blue that offset against his short smooth golden-rust hue.

Her childhood home was situated on a corner lot that backed up to a national forest, so they’d always had plenty of room to roam. Like her body had been programmed to go there, she found herself at the edge of a stream, by the large rocks they’d used to sit on.

Piros hopped up with ease and she, well, the struggle was a bit more real for her. “Stop laughing at me, canine. I have two legs.” She glared at him. “Without springs in them, like one of us in this single-direction conversation.”

The rock warmed under her ass after a few seconds and Piros lay with his head on her bent knee. Absently she scratched him as she slid a nail under the seal to open the envelope. It was almost fall but the weather was still beautiful. Soon, it would change. She took a deep breath and unfolded the letter. After reading it, she shook her head and read it again.

Piros whined and she patted him. A house? Property? “Looks like I’ve inherited some property in Colorado, Piros. A sizeable one from that, and there’s an offer to see if I want to sell.”

Her old man had left it to his children and she was the only one they could find. Not that she had known the old man. A fact she liked to remind herself was not her fault. He was the one who walked out and left her mother alone. Then that woman had died and the system had become home.

Until Althea Wentz. With her, she’d found her home. Her family.

Laughter preceded her sisters pushing through the woods to where she sat. Piros growled low before she shushed him. He was a dog she’d rescued from a shit situation and he loved her, trusted her with abandon, but he wasn’t like that with everyone else.

“You need to tell him to love us like he does you,” Daisy, the youngest of the trio, griped as she walked closer, her long hair swaying with each step she took.

“He hasn’t left, so that’s progress,” Iris retorted even as she settled a hand against his side.

“He’s just shy about his love,” Violet said as she climbed up without fear beside him and patted him.

Iris pushed the letter deep into the pocket of her cargo pants, not wanting to talk about this currently. Daisy scrambled up on the rock as well, the smallest of them all. Everyone, all the Wentz children, looked after her. In regards to the three of them here, Iris was the oldest, Violet was the most jaded, and Daisy was the brilliant one.

It didn’t matter they were all currently grown and off on their own, they came back home often and when they did, without fail, the three of them would end up on this rock together. Words weren’t needed, but they happened. Iris spent the rest of the afternoon joking and laughing with her family, Piros at her side and a small voice in the back of her mind yelling for her to tell her sisters about this news she’d just received.

She didn’t.

* * * *

Mid-December

At least a foot of snow covered the ground as she stared at the property before her. She’d parked her old, well-used SUV just inside the gateway of the land she’d inherited. A curved cement wall on either side of the drive had been topped by an iron gate, and when she’d driven past that she’d found herself looking at a sprawling open front yard leading up to the house. Large, gnarly, twisted trunk trees dotted the space and she knew they would provide great shade in the summer. Right now however, icicles hung from the ice-coated branches.

Shifting back into gear, she continued up the driveway, slowly given she didn’t know what was beneath the snow nor if she was actually on the driveway or just making it up as she went along. The nearest town was forty minutes away, and that had been when there was normal driving weather.

Something they didn’t have now. It had taken her nearly two hours to get here, and she accepted she wasn’t going to be heading back the way she’d come for a long while. She had to wait for the roads to be plowed, and given the way it was still falling, that wasn’t going to happen for a good chunk of time.

Iris was fine though. She’d stocked up at that town’s little store, basically wiping them out in her mind, picking up provisions for both her and Piros. The back of the vehicle overflowed with food, camping gear, and additional oversized men’s clothing if she needed even more layers.

Winter camping was something she’d done often and she wasn’t concerned about the prospect of facing such a situation.

To her left she saw a garage with an attached carport. The structure had definitely seen better days but the SUV wouldn’t be out directly in the falling snow. She carefully guided the vehicle inside. Snow covered the ground here as well but not as deep as what she’d driven through to get to the location.

“The stone house is nice, though, right, Piros?”

He sat on the seat beside her and huffed. With a shrug, she shrugged into her jacket and zipped it up. This was going to take a few trips. “First thing will be to complete that front gate and check the rest of the property to make sure there are no gaps.

Her companion side-eyed her like he took offense to her comment. After ruffling his head, she opened the door, sucked in a sharp breath at the cold and hopped out. Piros followed right on her heels.

Without hesitation, she struck out through the deep snow to the front porch of the house, the key she’d been given firmly in her pocket. Although from the look of this place, I’m not sure the key will be necessary.

The porch’s screen door hung and she was fairly certain it would blow off in the next strong wind. She tripped and struggled to catch herself as she swore, grateful she had on her winter hiking boots.

“Found a step, Piros.”

He bounded up and under the warped and holey cover of the porch, she followed a bit more carefully. Three steps were what she discovered leading up. Snow filled all of this as well, the screen which lined the area having long since been ripped away by wind, animals, she wasn’t sure. Plus there could be holes. What she didn’t need was an injury out here all by her lonesome.

As she stood there, there was a door off in each direction with a large stone section before her with a window, both broken, on each side. Very nice. Or it would be. The Realtor had said the key was for the red door and since the other was white… She went to the right, toward the faded red one.

Opening the door took patience and muscle. Not the key. Iris ended up throwing her shoulder into it and shoving it open. Piros stepped in and she pushed the door closed behind them.

“Well, if this is kept, it’s going to take some work. I’m beginning to think I should have come out in the summer to check this out. Not in the dead of winter.” Prios leaned against her leg and she laughed. “Yeah, I get it, bud, but just remember, you’re here with me.”

He snorted.

Iris got to work.

* * * *

Two hours later, she’d hauled all of her things inside, and discovered there was not only no electricity but also no running water. Only one room was habitable, the innermost room. Luckily, it had a fireplace. Thankfully the stone house was only one story. She took photos to share with her family, but realized that she had no signal and, when she looked outside, it had gotten dark. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Another camping trip, Piros.”

Her dog currently lay by the fire she had burning. She needed to go find a lot more wood. Again, she wasn’t worried. She’d grown up camping and roughing it with her family.

“But hey, this time we’re at least inside a building. Sure, we’re sleeping on the floor, but the room has a solid roof and walls.” She knelt by her bag and rifled through it to find her headlamp. Shoving it over her wild afro, she got back to her feet. “Let’s go check out the garage just in case. And before it’s any later. There may be more wood in there.”

There wasn’t, at least not for burning, and the roof on part of that had also collapsed. Not a ton, but enough she would be doing repairs for a long while. Back inside, she fixed Piros a bowl of food and set it down for him while she ate a sandwich she’d picked up at the store. She was too tired to make anything tonight. The kitchen would be useless aside from the fact the counters were solid and places for her to prepare her food. She had most of it in the kitchen on one of the counters in a couple tubs to keep any creatures from eating it.

Then she bedded down for the night, by the fire, with her dog at her side.

* * * *

Iris woke at five and lay inside her sleeping bag for a moment as she realized where she was. Colorado. Not long before Christmas.

“Piros, sometimes I do the stupidest things.”

He thumped his tail.

“Thanks for the support.” She climbed out and shivered. The fire was her first priority, and she thanked every listening god that the chimney hadn’t been clogged and she hadn’t burned down the house with her in it.

After an extremely quick trip outside to take care of business, she got them both some food. While Piros ate, she headed out to the garage once more. With a much closer look at some wood out there, she realized she could board up some of the windows to help keep more heat inside.

After a few hours of working to bring the wood inside, she decided it was time to take a look around the property. Swapping out Piros’ blue collar for his bright orange hunting one, she also added his boots to his feet. He didn’t like them, but in this deep snow, he was going to need them.

“Let’s go, boy.”

Tracking their direction from the house, she allowed him to pick their heading. She paused at the edge of a large meadow. It was fucking breathtaking with the snow covering it. All across it were sastruga—ridges of snow formed by the wind.

Even with more snow falling and the wind not having ceased, it couldn’t take from the spectacular imagery. She tugged up the collar of her coat, thinking it was time to get out of this storm.

Piros growled beside her. Head snapping instantly in the direction he looked, Iris narrowed her eyes against the stinging snow. Two steps, then her dog stopped and glanced back at her.

Shoving her hands deeper into her pockets, she scoffed. “If this is your way of telling me that Timmy is in the well, can we do it inside?”

Damn it! The dog had raced out over the field, a streak of rust against the pristine snow.

“You’re not even the right breed for that!” Her words were whipped away in the wind, and he didn’t even slow.

The barking came when he was out of sight.

Tucking her head against the weather, she set out after him. Almost halfway over the field, she could smell it. Burning.

Shit.

She broke into a jog and pushed through the deep snow, which easily hit mid-thigh on her. The meadow dipped down at the far end and she could see at the bottom of the decline a small Learjet in tatters. It’d been torn apart by an obvious crash.

Have I said shit yet? Because holy fucking shit!

“Piros!” She wanted him by her and not in danger. A few flames still burned low but who knew how long ago this had happened. Her boy popped his head up from the other side of the wreckage and gave another bark.

I’m coming. I’m coming.

Habit had her checking her phone for a signal, but that wasn’t a success. She pushed it back in her pocket and made her way down the slope. Fairly prepared for the outdoors and what it could toss at her, this wasn’t something she would have thought of running into today. If ever.

“Hello? Anyone here?” No answer. “Is anyone still alive? Can you hear me?”

She passed a body and, even as she peeled off her glove-mitten combo to check for a pulse, she knew he was dead.

Another man, and she knew they were the pilots, and she found a woman whose bloody face had frozen twisted in fear. Iris closed her eyes as gently as she could. Another couple who had metal shoved through them were holding hands, as if that would have saved them.

Piros still hadn’t come up from where he was, a way off. The wind picked up again and she checked the time. “What do you have, boy?”

She moved metal away to find a shoe print. Casting a look in all directions, she didn’t see any more, but given the wind and still-falling snow, that made sense. But even so, a print meant someone may have survived. May still be alive.

“Don’t suppose you can track him, can you? I know you have a great nose but we don’t know how—”

Piros spun around and lunged forward, the bright orange of his boots a beacon. Clothing scattered and blew around with the wind but she knew in her gut she couldn’t do any more here. She’d peeked into the belly of the plane but nothing had been there. And as much as it bothered her not to provide them with proper burials, she couldn’t. There were going to be predators coming and she didn’t want to be between them and their food.

When she caught up to Piros he faced a grotto, still, like he was pointing instinctively at feathered game. He wasn’t growling so she didn’t think there was an animal in there, but she didn’t know this person or his mental state.

“Hello?” she called out. “Is someone there? I came across the plane crash. Do you need help?”

Piros pressed against her leg, pushing her back as sound came from inside. A man stepped through, dried blood all over him, His black leather jacket had definitely seen better days, as had his jeans. The holes in them gave them more of a summery look. Dress shoes on his feet weren’t going to help him in the weather. The man had to be freezing. His short brown hair brought to mind rich fudge with hints of copper, and the scruff on his face was the same color.

Dove gray eyes watched her with confusion from beneath dark lashes. “Help. Me.”

Then he went down.