Searching for Bristol, page 1
Searching for Bristol
Eagle Point Search & Rescue, Book 3
Susan Stoker
Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Also by Susan Stoker
About the Author
Getting lost in the woods isn’t on Bristol Wingham’s agenda. Neither is being abandoned by her friends or getting injured. Luckily for her, she’s found by one of Fallport’s search and rescue members. She hadn’t planned on staying in the small town, but when her rescuer offers her a place to recuperate…she can’t resist.
* * *
Cohen “Rocky” Watson has rescued his fair share of lost hikers, but there’s something about Bristol that makes him sit up and take notice. The world-renowned artist could definitely afford to go back home to Tennessee and pay someone to look after her until her broken leg heals, but the more time he spends around her, the more he wants her to stay.
* * *
Slowly but surely, as Bristol heals, the former Navy SEAL and the artist find themselves falling in love. But someone is less than happy with the budding relationship. When Bristol disappears, it’ll take Rocky, his entire team, and every colorful, gossip-loving Fallport local to find her—and the clock is ticking.
* * *
** Searching for Bristol is the third book in the Eagle Point Search & Rescue Series. Each book is a stand-alone, with no cliffhanger endings.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Susan Stoker
No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Edited by Kelli Collins
Cover Design by AURA Design Group
Manufactured in the United States
Chapter One
Bristol Wingham wanted to kick her own ass.
She’d known better than to go hiking by herself. But Mike had pissed her off so badly, there was no way she could’ve stomached one more night in his presence. She’d told him time and time again that she wasn’t interested in being anything more than a friend, and she thought she’d finally gotten through to him.
And okay, she was kind of desperate for friends. Which was why, when he’d suggested this trip, she’d agreed in the first place.
But as soon as they’d arrived in the quaint town of Fallport, he’d once again begun pressuring her, trying to talk her into dating.
Mike was good-looking enough. Used to women falling all over him, in fact. His brown hair, chocolate-brown eyes, and muscular physique were enough to woo plenty of women, but Bristol had stopped being impressed by physical attributes a long time ago. And at twenty-nine, Mike should’ve been well past the time in his life when he saw all women as conquests. But apparently, he wasn’t.
Sighing, Bristol closed her eyes. She should’ve known something was up when he’d belatedly informed her that Drake Long and Carol Page would be coming on the trip. Drake was twenty-five and Carol a young twenty-three. The last week had been spent listening to the other woman giggling and fawning all over her boyfriend…and Mike.
The plan before leaving had been to go on one last hike, to a picturesque camping area along the Falling Water Trail. It was an intermediate hike that linked up to the famous Appalachian Trail at some point, but they weren’t going to be on it that long. The overlook where the campground was located was around eight miles from the trailhead.
But after only four miles, Mike had suggested they stop and camp right off the trail. Bristol had been confused…until he’d asked her to join in on a sexual interlude that he, Carol, and Drake had obviously already planned.
She’d been appalled—and had told Mike for the three-thousandth time that she wasn’t interested in being more than friends, and she certainly wasn’t having sex with the other couple either.
Mike had shrugged and said it was her loss. Then he’d calmly turned his back and began setting up camp…with one tent.
There was no way Bristol was going to sit around and listen to the threesome having sex for the rest of the afternoon and evening, so she’d turned on her heel and continued down the trail. Her plan was to camp at the overlook as they’d intended…well, as she’d thought they’d intended.
She’d meet up with her ex-friend in the morning, get back to Kingsport, and never talk to any of them again.
Except she hadn’t made it to the campground. She’d gone off the trail to pee, heard some rustling in the woods and decided to investigate. She wasn’t exactly expecting to see Bigfoot or anything, but she would’ve loved to have seen some sort of wildlife, and she knew better than to go too far off trail.
But she hadn’t expected the ground beneath her to suddenly give way.
She didn’t remember much of what happened after that. Bristol assumed she’d hit her head in the fall and was knocked unconscious. Her head hurt—bad. She was nauseous and had a splitting headache. But that wasn’t the worst of her injuries.
Somehow in the fall, she’d hurt the shin on her right leg so badly, the first time she’d attempted to stand, she’d passed out from the pain.
The next time she woke—after throwing up from the pain in her head and leg—she’d been much more careful about moving.
Looking up, she saw she was at the bottom of a very steep rock face. It was about twenty-five feet to the top, and she could see the clear trail her body took as she’d tumbled downward, aided by loose soil. Her fall had been broken by bushes at the bottom, otherwise she might not be alive at the moment…or at least would be in a lot worse shape than she was.
Her pack was still on her back, which was good, but she couldn’t walk. All she could do was drag herself along the ground in an attempt to find a way to get to the top of the small cliff she’d fallen from and back to the trail. Someone would have to come by at some point…she hoped.
But it had now been three nights, and Bristol was getting scared. She’d yelled for what seemed like hours, but either no one was on the trail, or she was too far away from it to be heard. She’d hoped Mike and the others would notify someone that she was missing when they got back to the car and didn’t find her, but it was obvious they hadn’t.
They probably thought she’d hitchhiked back to town or something. But how did they think she was going to get home? Levitate?
Then again, maybe she was being too harsh. It was possible a search team was on the case but just hadn’t found her yet.
Deep down though, after three nights, Bristol had a feeling Mike and his friends had left without a second thought as to what had happened to her.
The idea was disheartening and scary.
She’d crawled along the ground the first day, staying near the bottom of the cliff but away from the sharp rocks, and it had been extremely slow going. The agony in her leg kept her from doing much more than scooting on her butt. Every dip and movement of her leg sent sharp pains shooting upward, and after just a couple hours, Bristol had decided it was better to stay put and hope someone found her, rather than risk making whatever was wrong with her leg worse by moving.
She’d done her best to create a splint for her shin, but since she had no idea what she was doing, Bristol didn’t know if she was helping or hurting the injury. The nausea she’d experienced when waking up at the bottom of the cliff had stuck with her, whether from her head injury or the pain from her leg, she didn’t know. She’d tried to stay hydrated and had forced herself to eat some of the granola and protein bars she’d brought with her, but they tasted like chalk and it was all she could do to keep the food down.
She’d also managed to get her tent out of her pack, but hadn’t been able to properly set it up, since she couldn’t stand. But having some sort of shelter was better than none, and she was grateful that she had it. Going to the bathroom had been an adventure, and she felt absolutely filthy.
Looking up at the sun shining through the treetops around her, Bristol wanted to cry, but she forced herself to take a deep breath instead. She was alive; she had to stay positive. But she had a feeling she couldn’t stay at her makeshift camp much longer. If no one was looking for her, she had to do what she could to save herself.
She’d never been the kind of person to sit around feeling sorry for herself. Her parents hadn’t raised her to be a quitter, and she wasn’t about to start now.
No one would fi
It took two hours to get her tent and everything else back into her pack, and for Bristol to be ready to start moving. She’d given herself a pep talk and re-did the bandage around her leg to immobilize it—which she knew she’d done a shit job of, but was trying to pretend otherwise. Her backpack was on her shoulders and she was ready to move once more.
Deciding that maybe it would hurt her leg less if she got on her belly and crawled that way, Bristol took a deep breath and turned over. Black spots swam in front of her eyes as she turned. Panting, she rested her forehead on the dirt under her.
“Shit. Fuck,” she muttered as the world seemed to spin. Tears formed in her eyes, but she forced them back. “Suck it up,” she said out loud. “You got yourself into this, and you’re going to have to get yourself out.”
Lifting her chin, she eyed the landscape in front of her. She was going to have to go east, around the cliff, then turn south and hopefully catch the trail. She had no idea how wide the cliff was, or how far she’d have to crawl to get back around to the trail, but ultimately the distance didn’t matter. She didn’t have a choice. She’d waited around for three nights hoping someone would come looking for her, but after hearing hide nor hair of anyone, she couldn’t sit there any longer.
Inch by inch, Bristol began to crawl. Every foot seemed like a mile. Rocks dug into her forearms and hands, and her leg throbbed badly enough that she’d stopped to dry heave—since her belly was empty—twice. But she kept going. She did her best to throw rocks and branches out of her way so her leg wouldn’t bounce over them, but the rough terrain she was dragging herself through was brutal.
After what seemed like hours, Bristol looked behind her to see how far she’d gone—and immediately wished she hadn’t. The trees were thick, but she could just see where she’d spent the last three nights in the distance.
The urge to give up was strong. She wanted to blame the situation she was in on Mike, for being a horny bastard, but the reality was, she’d been the stupid one to go off trail. She’d been determined to see the overlook that had been their original destination, instead of immediately heading back to the trailhead and catching a ride to Fallport.
Taking a deep breath, Bristol clenched her teeth and began to crawl once more. She could do this. She literally had no other choice.
Cohen “Rocky” Watson walked quickly along the Falling Water Trail. There had been no other cars at the trailhead when he’d arrived, which was unusual for this time of year.
He still wasn’t convinced the supposedly “missing person” he was searching for hadn’t just forgotten her promise to visit Sandra Hain, the woman who owned the Sunny Side Up diner in town. People did that kind of thing all the time. Promised something, then simply forgot, not understanding how much the other person was counting on them.
But Sandra thought otherwise. She’d begged Rocky to go looking for Bristol Wingham, the tourist she’d befriended.
Rocky had no idea why Sandra had gotten so attached. She was notoriously picky about who she accepted and who she didn’t, like most people who lived in the small town of Fallport. Regardless, Sandra and this Bristol person had obviously clicked, and Rocky hadn’t had the heart to turn down Sandra’s plea to at least check the trail to see if the woman was in trouble.
He’d left after eating breakfast at the diner, going back to his apartment to grab his go-pack he always had ready for search and rescue missions, and to change into appropriate hiking gear. He hadn’t bothered to call Raiden, the other member of the Eagle Point SAR team who was in town at the moment.
The others had all gone with Zeke, Elsie, and her son, Tony, to the Eagle Point Lookout tower.
Rocky smiled to himself, knowing all about the surprise that awaited Elsie when they got there. She wasn’t much of an outdoors girl, and Zeke had wanted to make her as comfortable as possible at the tower, so he’d hiked the ten miles ahead of time and outfitted it with a blowup mattress, sheets, a comforter. Rocky was pretty sure he’d brought flowers as well.
He was thrilled for his friend. Rocky genuinely liked Elsie and her son. Tony was a good kid who was starved for positive male attention. He understood a little about what the nine-year-old was feeling, as his own father had died and he’d been raised by his mother. But his situation was a bit different, since he’d had his twin, Ethan, and their sister, for company growing up.
Rocky scowled when he thought about what Tony’s biological father had done to his own child. The scheme to kill him and collect life insurance after his death. What a fucking bastard.
He wasn’t sure he wanted children himself, but if he ever did, he’d protect them with his life. There was too much evil in the world already, making it too easy for kids to be hurt or corrupted. He’d seen it with his own eyes through his former job as a Navy SEAL.
He’d gotten out of the Navy the same time as his brother, because he couldn’t imagine not being close to Ethan. He didn’t miss it; he’d become disillusioned with the bureaucracy that came with the military. Moving to Fallport and finding people who got lost in the Appalachian Mountains was much less dangerous than what he used to do, but no less fulfilling.
The morning was beautiful, nice and warm, and while hiking would become miserable because of the heat in the afternoon, Rocky couldn’t complain at the moment. He adjusted his pack on his back—it was light compared to the loads he used to carry as a SEAL—and continued up the trail.
He’d been walking for about six miles when something caught his attention. A couple miles back, he’d seen evidence of a campsite. It was in an unauthorized area…not a place set up for camping. Rocky had been irked, but not exactly surprised. He used to be shocked when they found trash on the trail—poopy diapers, empty bottles and cans, even random items of clothing—but it was hard to surprise him anymore. Plenty of people were lazy, entitled, and didn’t care about anything but themselves. Certainly not others who might come along the trail behind them, not the animals who might get hurt by eating the trash that was left behind, and definitely not whoever picked up whatever junk was left in their wake.
So seeing that someone had camped in an area that wasn’t designated for it wasn’t all that surprising. Rocky figured the foursome Sandra had told him about had probably camped there for the night, before heading back to the trailhead and heading home to Kingsport, Tennessee. But because it was such a nice day, and because he couldn’t be certain that was their site, he’d decided to keep going to the overlook, the group’s original destination. It was only another four miles or so.
But two miles later, as he stood in the middle of the trail, Rocky frowned at the trampled weeds leading into the woods to his left. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was a trail left by a person.
A recent trail.
And just like that, his adrenaline kicked in. All thoughts of the easygoing hike he’d been on disappeared.
“It’s probably nothing,” Rocky muttered to himself. “Tons of people have been on this trail. Who knows how many have wandered off?”
But how recently? The trail he was looking at was maybe a few days old.
Cautiously, he stepped off the well-worn and marked hiking path to follow the trail that led into the woods. Rocky was well aware that there was a large drop-off not too far from the path. There was an outcropping of rocks that went on for half a mile or so, and every now and then, someone tumbled over the edge. It was possible to survive a fall from the cliff, as it wasn’t more than thirty feet down, but the potential injuries one sustained could be serious. He and his team had rescued two people who’d fallen in the past, and Rocky expected they’d have more in the future.
