Butler, Vermont Audiobook 2-9 Bundle

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Excerpt from the Butler, Vermont Series

Even with snow swirling around him, Wade Abbott knew the way home. He could find it blindfolded, which he was basically doing since the whiteout snow made it so he had to rely on everything but his vision. He’d been out with his brothers for hours looking for two young boys who’d gone sledding in the foothills of Butler Mountain and disappeared in the blizzard.

They’d found them alive but hypothermic forty-five minutes ago and dispersed to head home to warm up. His younger brothers, Lucas and Landon, both paramedics, had transported the boys to the hospital, where they’d be reunited with their grateful parents.

The snowmobile’s headlight illuminated the Nelsons’ mailbox, a green monstrosity that indicated Wade was about five hundred feet from his own driveway. He noticed a pattern in the snow that looked an awful lot like footprints. Who would be foolish enough to be out in a full-on blizzard if they didn’t have to be?

Was he hallucinating, or were the footprints leading to his place? A trickle of unease traveled down his back, which was odd because he never felt unsafe in Butler, Vermont. Hell, he never even locked his door. He didn’t have to. His place wasn’t easy to find unless you knew where it was.

He hung a right into his driveway and followed the deep footsteps for a quarter mile of twists and bends until his cabin came into view, nestled into a copse of evergreens, his own piece of paradise.

Biting one of the fingers of his glove, he pulled it off and reached for the flashlight strapped to his hip to further illuminate the yard. The flashlight’s beam cut through the snow to identify a huddled lump on his porch.

“What the hell?” Wade cut the engine and jumped off the snowmobile. Fighting the foot-high snow, he crossed the yard and went up the stairs. “Hello?”

Nothing.

He nudged the lump with his foot.

It moaned.

He scooped up the bundle and carried it inside, where heat from the woodstove he’d stoked earlier swept over him. Dropping to his knees in front of the fire, he deposited his visitor.

She moaned again.

Dear God, it’s a woman—a half-frozen woman. Moving quickly, he threw two more logs on the fire and began unwrapping the ice-crusted scarf that covered her face so the heat could penetrate. Bruises. Her face was black, blue and swollen, so much so he didn’t immediately recognize her.

And then he knew.

His heart skipped a beat and shock reverberated through him as he began to frantically remove her wet coat and gloves.

“Mia.” He could hear the panic in his own voice. “Mia!”

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