Fort Liard [Due South]

Chapter 2

Gray storm clouds were rolling in ahead of her from the northwest, and she frowned up at the darkening sky. She had been watching the clouds move in for the past hour as they had spread slowly across the horizon. The afternoon sun was sinking behind the clouds, leaving a darker cast over the landscape. Hunching in further, she continued speeding across the snow, watching for the next post on the edge of the Liard Highway. She had just crossed over the border from British Columbia into the Northwest Territory. If Caryn's letter was correct, she only had another forty minutes to go until she reached the centre of town. In the coming storm though, it would be unlikely that she could find her way out to the Cooper home alone. She would have to see about finding a guide or a place to stay overnight. Perhaps one of the Mounties stationed at the outpost would be available to take her to the Coopers'.

She was on vacation, and she had no intention of making her official rank known to those stationed at the Fort Liard outpost. She was planning on enjoying a civilian status for the next four weeks, living out in the far reaches of the county and perhaps reading a novel or two. She could go for long walks out in the woods and spend some time relaxing. She and Caryn would be preparing for the baby and taking care of the two older children. Meg felt that she needed to spend some time with the children. She had long since resigned herself to the knowledge that she would probably never have a family of her own. She was a career officer, and the men that she worked with were either her superiors or her subordinates. The other men in her life were civilians who did not understand her commitment to her duties. It left her feeling hollow, but the hollowness had become a dull ache in her chest that she was accustomed to.

There had been a relationship here or there, but nothing that endured or fulfilled. Most of the men that she had worked with thought her cold; she had resigned herself to that, also. It was, in some ways, the easiest attitude to deal with. She went home at night and sat alone, wrote a bit here or there, did laundry, made dinner, and went jogging. There was a lake out on the side of town; sometimes on the clear winter evenings she played hockey, if there was a game on the ice. Occasionally, the Ottawa headquarters called her out to travel as a foreign services officer, usually as a diplomatic aide and a female representative of the RCMP, there to present a pleasing image to whomever they were dealing with. Knowing that rankled, but it let her spend time outside of her normal duties, and so she held in her complaints and did as they asked.

The sky was growing rapidly darker and the visibility was decreasing quickly. She pushed in the throttle and let more gas into the engine, shooting away faster and racing against the approaching storm. It felt empowering to be riding like this, with the engine rumbling underneath her, the wind whipping past, alone as far as she could see in all directions. She was leaving all of that frustration behind to fly across this untouched landscape. She could be free out here!

A blast of fine snow blew against her coat, bringing her back to the present, and she let more gas into the engine again and bent down further against the gusts that were buffeting her. A tiny light winked far ahead between the hills and the trees for a second before another gust of snow blew past and blocked it from view. She turned slightly and headed for it.

By the time that she reached the buildings, she could not see much more than their outlines in the wind-blown snow whipping around her. The storm had worsened considerably, leaving visibility lower than she liked for travelling alone in unfamiliar territory. She whispered a short prayer that it would let up long enough for her to get through, even while she knew that the wish was futile. She slowed and pulled the snowmobile up to what looked like a general store. A small lantern hung glowing in the window.

She stood up, stretching out her tired muscles and fighting the ache that came with moving after sitting crouched on the snowmobile for so long. Leaving the engine idling, she stepped up onto the porch and walked to the door. She had lifted a hand to knock when the door swung open suddenly and a man gestured for her to come inside.