All the way up the mountain, Sebastian had cursed the rain. Now he cursed the snow and the continually plummeting temperatures. They couldn't get back down in this, and Laurel wouldn't survive if he didn't get her body temperature back up. He had one shot, and he prayed with every step that it would be enough.
He almost missed the cabin in the dark. Mother Nature had made greater strides in reclaiming the old bootlegger's cabin since the spring. A sapling of some kind grew right up through the porch boards, and a whole host of overgrowth had tangled to make a natural screen. But it was still standing. Quickly tying Brego's reins to a rail, he strode up onto the porch. Many of its boards were rotted. The only door to the place was closed. The knob turned with effort, and it swung open a couple of inches before stopping. Putting his shoulder to it, he managed to make a gap wide enough to get through.