She leaned across Sam and opened her glove compartment. A big heavy flashlight rolled out into her hand.
As she stuffed the flashlight into a pocket of her micro-puff jacket, she gazed at the goldendoodle with misgivings. Service dogs were taught to find things when given a direct order. Sam would certainly help her find her way to Law. But the weather would be hard on her. Sam didn’t have protective clothing.
Jori pulled up the hood of her jacket and tied it tightly around her face then leaned her head against Sam’s. “You have to stay here. I’ll crack a window but leave the engine running for you for heat.”
Why was she talking to a dog? Because she badly needed to bounce her thoughts off someone. And Sam was watching her with the intensity she displayed when learning a new game. Her ears were up, eyebrows twitching, her body ready to react as her gaze shifted intently with Jori’s every move. As if she might be asked to repeat them. Sam was more than a warm body. Sam knew things.
Jori pushed open her door. As she did so, she heard sounds of an engine close by. Her heart stumbled and she scrambled out onto the road. Another car. Someone to help her.
She moved to the front of her truck so she could be seen, head swiveling left and right to catch sight of approaching headlights. But nothing moved in either direction through the dreary blue-gray morning misted by sleet. The only light, other than her own vehicle, came from a house across the valley. That faint light might as well have been from a star. Too far away to help her.
After a few miserable seconds more, Jori realized the engine sounds she heard were coming from the wreckage. That sent a shudder through her . Movie and video images of exploding autos papered her thoughts. Fuel leaks igniting. Greasy engine parts catching fire.
“No. Focus, dammit.” The shouted words brought her back to reality. An empty freezing stretch of roadway. Sheet bouncing in micro beads off her face. No other human sound in the world. Only the musical tinkle in the overhead branches of freezing rain turning into ice crystals.
A shudder of cowardice quaked through her. She was already cold, scared, and clumsy. She wasn’t very brave, and she certainly wasn’t a trail climber or outdoorsperson. She might only end up another casualty. But she was all the help Law was going to get. For now.
Until she got to Law. Law would know what to do. But she had to get to him first.
Holding that thought in her mind, Jori made her way to the back of her SUV. She had on boots, but they weren’t especially helpful with traction on the slick road.
She shoved her cell phone into her pocket and discovered long-forgotten gloves. Happily she tugged them on.
Sam barked as she opened the hatch, and jumped with paws over the backseat.
“No. Sam. Stay.”
She began sorting through things. Yes, the first-aid kit was there. And the bulkier auto emergency kit. And two blankets. She set the first two items on the ground and tucked the two blankets under an arm.
As she reached up to close the hatch Sam launched herself across the backseat and out the rear of the SUV.
“No, Sam.” Jori turned to go after her and nearly lost her footing.
Sam stood watching her for a second then barked and headed off down the road, nose to the roadway.
Jori shook her head. She didn’t have time to chase Sam. With luck the dog would follow her.
She picked up her kits and moved to the edge of the road. The first few feet of the drop-off were steep, as if a giant shovel had gouged a piece out of the hillside.
Sam barked. She was twenty feet away, back toward the curving crest where the truck had left the highway. She barked again, several excited barks, and began pacing back and forth in a lazy eight, spinning once, then retracing herself and shaping a zigzag pattern of sniffs as she walked toward the rim.
Jori knew what Sam was looking for. The same thing she was. She could only guess that perhaps Sam, familiar with Law’s truck, had found the smell of Law’s tires on the roadway, recognized them, and knew the trail went downhill. The dog might not know there was a wreck ahead. But she scented something that had her dancing as her barks became more strident and urgent.
Jori half walked, half slid her way up to where Sam stood on the roadway, trying to find a way to step down into the valley.
“Okay. Okay.” She was yelling because she had moved out of the sheltering mountain’s curvature. The wind whipped up from the valley, hitting her full in the face. Perhaps Sam had caught the scent of Law and/or his truck in the wind. Sam’s scent base would include things like Law’s truck in which she regularly rode.