Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

He crouched down for a closer look, and yeah, no doubt about it—it was his dad Johnny's handwriting. Ryan always had a special spot in the Bradford family. His dad had taught him to write from a young age, so he recognized the script immediately.

Brushing away some snow next to the wooden plaque, he turned to the old alternative medicine expert behind him. "Hey, Grandpa, this isn't one of your relatives, right? Is it mine? How come Dad never mentioned we had family buried here?"

The old man hesitated, then quickly shifted gears. "Ryan, let's get moving. More snow's on the way, and climbing back up the mountain's gonna be rough."

Ryan was still curious and wanted to check out the smaller writing, but the old man grabbed his backpack and pulled him up. "Come on, leave it be. If your dad didn't bring it up, it probably wasn't significant. Let's go."

A bit skeptical, Ryan got to his feet and followed. The snowfall kept getting heavier, and it took them nearly an hour to gather the herbs.

On the way back, Ryan sniffled, "Grandpa, can you tell me more about my dad? All I know is he started with a roadside stand. Did he do anything else back home?"

The old man cleared the path as he reminisced, "Johnny was a good guy, well- loved around here. He built all these roads. When Clara was really sick, he made it his mission to construct roads, hoping to earn some good karma.”noveldrama

Ryan suddenly recalled how sick Clara was as a kid. He hardly saw her; she was always either in treatment or traveling for it. Thank goodness she got better.

Back at the old man's cabin, he got busy with the herbs, working well into the afternoon. By evening, Ryan was about to head out with the herbs, since his place wasn't too far.

But the old man insisted he stay. "The snow's piling up tonight. Better stay here and leave in the morning. If your car gets stuck, you'll be on your own."

Ryan glanced outside at the thick snow and nodded. "Alright, thanks for letting me crash here, Grandpa. By the way, you mentioned Clara was really sick before. Didn't she stay here with my dad for a while? Like a year or so?"

The old man paused, chopping vegetables. "Yeah, your dad had no choice. The big hospital issued a critical notice, so he came here as a last resort."

"Wow, are you really that good? The hospital couldn't help, but you saved Clara?"

Realizing he'd said too much, the old man awkwardly turned back to the fire. Ryan saw his chance and jumped in to help.

After dinner, Ryan settled in for the night. It didn't snow again, but the mountain air was freezing.

In the dead of night, the old man noticed a light outside. Grabbing a flashlight, he peered through the window and saw someone by the small mound. Startled, he threw on a coat and hurried out.

"Ryan?" he called as he approached, realizing it was indeed him. Ryan stood there, lost in thought.

The old man, feeling uneasy, tapped his shoulder. "What are you doing out here, kid? Trying to give me a heart attack? I thought it was a ghost!"

Ryan chuckled, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry, couldn't sleep. Just needed some air. I'm heading back to bed now."

With that, he turned and walked away. The old man watched him go, glancing back at the small mound, wondering if Ryan had noticed the writing. With a soft sigh, he headed back inside.