A Matter of Trust

by Susan May Warren

  But he certainly wouldn’t lodge any complaints.

  Especially with Brette’s arms looped around his neck. He’d wrapped her like a burrito in her blanket, aware that she was not only wearing her hospital gown but had recently had surgery.

  Those extra tests the doctor had ordered niggled at him.

  But he’d talk to her later, after she’d had a chance to talk to Ella. He didn’t know why, exactly, she looked so desperate to get to her friend, but . . .

  Well, he was still reeling from her words. “I came here looking for a hero. And I found one. That’s enough for me. You can keep your story to yourself.”

  He didn’t quite know what to do with the crazy hope those words had stirred inside him.

  Yeah, he could fall in love with this woman if she gave him the chance.

  In the room, Gage had gotten up, taken Ella’s hand, and was facing the cameras. He grinned, and it seemed genuine, something not canned, but of course, perfect.

  Because Gage was a born superstar, so natural in the limelight, he belonged there.

  Even when the press peppered him with questions about the rescue, and even the past.

  “I regret with everything inside me the decisions I made that cost Dylan his life. And I’m saddened by the injuries Bradley and Oliver incurred by following my route down Heaven’s Peak. But anything daring comes with risks, and accidents happen in the backcountry. The best we can do is try and prepare for them, and trust that if an accident happens, we’ll be rescued. I’m just thankful that Ella was bold enough to convince me to go after her brother and Bradley, or they would have died on the mountain. I’ve never met anyone who fights for the ones she cares about like Ella Blair.”

  He looked down at her, winked.

  “He’d make a great campaigner,” Brette said next to Ty’s ear.

  Ty looked at her. “What?”

  Brette shook her head. Then she met his eyes. “I guess I panicked over nothing.”

  Panicked? Although, well . . . He went out on a limb. “It’s not a bad way to get you back into my arms.”

  He chased it with a smile.

  Her eyes widened, and she caught her lip. “Maybe we could . . . I don’t know. Start over? Be friends?”

  Oh, he wanted much more than friends, but he nodded. “Sure.” He’d spied a wheelchair near the entrance and now walked over, set her into it. He arranged her blanket around her, then knelt before her. “My name is Ty Remington. My parents own the Double R, a good chunk of land in northwest Montana. But I work for PEAK Rescue, just trying to help people who are lost, or hurt, or in over their heads.” Just like he was. But maybe not so much anymore. His story to Pete had loosened the fingers of shame around his heart.

  Maybe someday soon he would be able to tell his story, the whole story, to the team.

  The one that included him falling on his face in the snow and begging for salvation. And not just the physical kind.

  Maybe, in fact, that was the first step to climbing back into the cockpit. But, for now, “If you give me the chance, Brette, I promise to never lie to you again.”

  He held out his hand.

  She took it, her smile warm. “I like a man who keeps his promise.”

  Oh, he wanted to kiss her. His eyes roamed her face and stopped at her lips. But before he could stir up the courage, a voice came up behind him.

  “Brette, what happened to you?” Ella. Gage was wheeling her over. He parked her next to Brette, and they hugged.

  “Appendicitis. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Brette glanced up at Gage, back to Ella. “And apparently, you got your chance to talk to Gage.” She added a wink. “How’s Oliver?”

  “He’s out of surgery,” said another voice, and Ty turned to see Dr. Brenda Watson walking over. She wore her lab jacket, a pair of scrubs. “We were able to stop the bleeding. He’s in recovery.”

  She looked over at Gage. “Well done, son,” she said softly and squeezed Gage’s arm. He put his hand over hers. Then she bent down to Ella. “I hear you’ve already met my husband.”

  Ella nodded. “Glad to meet you, Dr. Watson.”

  “Brenda,” she said. “Likewise, Senator.”

  “Actually,” Ella said, glancing at Gage, then to Brette, “I think my senator season is over. My mother wants to run for her seat again.” She looked at Brette. “Have you ever thought of writing the biography of Marjorie Blair, a woman whose family used to run a fishing operation? The Perfect Storm meets the Maple Syrup king?”

  “I like it,” Brette said. She grinned, but Ty couldn’t help but notice sweat breaking out on her forehead. Without asking, he touched it with the back of his hand. She felt warm.

  Maybe the tests had to do with an infection of some sort. “I need to get her back to her room,” Ty said. He looked at Gage. “See you back at the house?”

  Gage nodded.

  He wheeled Brette back to her room. And she didn’t protest when he lifted her into her bed.

  “You’re not feeling well, are you?” he asked, sinking down into his chair.

  “Just a headache. And oddly, my stomach still hurts.”

  “You just had surgery.”

  She made a face. “Yeah, you’re right.” But she held out her hand. “Would you be willing to stick around until I fall asleep?”

  He took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

  Ella knew this man. The one who smiled for the cameras as he wheeled her back to her room. The one who ordered her pizza and brought it to her bed, shared it with her and her mom.

  The one who patiently explained every detail of the rescue to her father.

  This man who then went in search of a boy named Hunter, who apparently needed a hero after shattering his femur on the slope.

  Pete Brooks had stopped in about then to check on her, and her father cornered him. “Thanks for all you did to help Oliver and Ella.”

  Pete seemed like a nice guy, and offered her father an “aw, shucks, I was glad to help” kind of response.

  “I did some checking, and apparently you have your FEMA incident commander certification,” her mother added.

  Ella glanced at her, frowned.

  “I’m on the board for the National Red Cross. Any interest in helping out nationally?”

  Pete was a handsome man, with shoulder-length blond hair that he held back with a bandanna. Probably a lady-killer with that soft smile, the twinkle in his eyes. Her mother’s suggestion seemed to make him pause. “Maybe, yes, ma’am.”

  Oh, her mother was a goner for men who called her ma’am. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Pete turned to Ella. “I saw Gage down the hall, talking to that kid we brought in from the Blackbear. I thought I’d peek in, say hi.”

  She glanced at the wheelchair, which was still in her room, and Pete seemed to read her mind. He brought it over and helped move her into it. “I’ll take good care of her,” he said to her parents. “No four-wheeling.”

  Her mother laughed, and Ella knew he was a shoo-in for the job.

  She stayed at the door to watch as Pete knocked, then entered Hunter’s room. Gage sat on the kid’s bed, talking with him about his descent down Heaven’s Peak, giving him some pointers and encouraging him to keep listening to his dreams.

  Pete met the boy’s parents, and gave the kid a high-five.

  A couple of heroes, comfortable in their own skin. For Gage, at least, it was a long time coming.

  A fist bump, a handshake with the family, and Ella saw Gage’s future.

  Maybe a champion freerider again, but more likely a man who continued to save lives.

  She was trying to push herself away when he came out of the room.

  “You’re not that fast, Senator.” He caught up to her, said good-bye to Pete, and wheeled her back to her room. Her parents were gone, probably to check on Oliver, who was now out of recovery.

  He scooped her up to transfer her to the bed. She held on just a little longer than necessary, ran her hand al
ong his whiskered chin as he set her down.

  “Getting a little handsy there, aren’t you, Miss Blair?” But he grinned, cupped her chin in his hand, bent down, and kissed her.

  Soft lips, tender, urging her mouth open. A sensuous kiss, one that ignited a simmer of desire through her. When he backed away, meeting her eyes, she saw the promise of more.

  She scooted over, patted the bed next to her. “Let’s see if the news has a replay of your epic entrance.”

  She picked up the television remote.

  He slid onto the bed beside her and put his arm around her. She settled her head against his chest. “This is so much better than sleeping in the snow.”

  He laughed, a low rumble that she felt through her entire body.

  “You were a hit with the press. I heard that brunette asking you for an exclusive.”

  “That’s Tallie Kennedy. She’s a local reporter who’s done a few features on the PEAK team.”

  The television played a lineup of the evening’s shows, including a special news spot on local missing persons.

  “I was really worried you were going to tell them about . . . well, the case, and Dylan and—”

  “I was.” She looked over at him. “I wanted to scream the truth, and if my father had kept accusing you, I would have. But then you showed up, and . . .”

  “I don’t need the world to know, Ella. It’s enough that I know. Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then leaned back into her pillows. “Actually, I was thinking about what you said. I don’t think I want to go back to competing. But”—he gave her a sidelong glance—“I was pretty frustrated out there, not knowing how to help your brother. I was thinking maybe I could go back to school, get a higher degree in emergency medicine.”

  “I thought you didn’t like school.”

  “I could use a study partner.”

  “I’m fantastic at flash cards,” she said.

  His smile dimmed. “Did you really mean it when you said you didn’t want to be a senator anymore?”

  She nodded. “I’m ready to step out of the limelight. Maybe go back to being a lawyer . . .”

  A picture on the screen arrested her attention. She turned up the volume and listened to the description of a missing woman, approximately age thirty, dark hair, high cheekbones. They listed her death as blunt force trauma.

  “That’s the woman we found last summer, in the park. Ian Shaw had her face forensically reconstructed,” Gage said. “She was featured on America’s Missing a few days ago. The news must have finally picked it up.”

  Ella simply stared, everything inside her chilling. No, it couldn’t be. “Gage, I know her.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from the television as the reporter walked the area where her body had been located. She waited until the program flashed her picture again, just to confirm. “That’s my friend Sofia. She was one of my housemates at Middlebury. I took her skiing out here with me a few years ago—the year before I met you at Outlaw. She met a guy, I remember that. I think they kept in touch.”

  “You know her? Are you sure?”

  “I thought she’d moved back to Spain, but I haven’t heard from her in years. I can’t be sure, but, it looks like her.”

  “We’ll get another look at the picture to confirm.”

  “And I’ll try and get ahold of her parents. But if that is my friend, Gage . . . I know what I’m going to do.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m sticking around Mercy Falls, and I’m going to bring whoever killed my friend to justice.”

  He nodded. “Of course you are. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  Epilogue

  IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO END THIS WAY.

  Ty sat in his truck, drumming his fingers on his steering wheel.

  The Gray Pony Saloon was rocking tonight, the hint of a spring thaw in the air, and fans of Ben King’s first-ever new artist showcase jammed the parking lot. The thump of a bass drum, a steel guitar, the twang of a fiddle wound out into the crisp night. Ben was putting Mercy Falls on the map, with country star wannabes emerging from the woodwork for a shot at a contract with his newly formed Mountain Song Records studio.

  Benjamin King had certainly found his way back home after his mistakes.

  Ty could make out the silhouettes of Jess and Sierra in their usual booth near the door, with Pete and Gage nearby throwing darts.

  From Ty’s vantage point, it seemed that Pete and Jess still had to have one very important conversation. But maybe that had something to do with Pete’s recent job offer to join the national Red Cross emergency rescue team.

  The door to the saloon opened, and Ty watched as deputy Sam Brooks came out, his arm around his girlfriend, Willow Rose.

  The sight of it only tightened the fist in Ty’s gut.

  He wanted to get out of the truck, join his friends . . . but Ella would be in there, probably with Gage, and frankly, the sight of her only dragged up the memory.

  He closed his eyes and returned, unbidden, back to the hospital the morning after Ella and Oliver’s rescue.

  He’d walked into the hospital beside Gage, having followed him in his Silverado, ready to pick up Brette and bring her back to her condo, armed with the suggestion he stick around and make her some homemade chicken noodle soup. Because he meant it when he said he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Brette hadn’t made the same promise, a realization he came to slowly as he entered her room.

  He stood there, trying to wrap his brain around the sight of an orderly making up her bed. When he asked a nurse about her, the answer was, “I’m sorry, but she discharged herself, against medical advice.”

  Against medical advice?

  He’d even driven to her condo, armed with the key code from Ella, and found it empty. Brette’s bags gone.

  He’d arrived at the airport moments after the last flight out of Kalispell departed.

  Not even Ella had an answer, and calls to Brette’s cell phone went to voicemail.

  For the past three weeks.

  He wanted to give up. Should give up. Clearly, whatever he’d said hadn’t been enough.

  But he couldn’t purge the words from his head. Against medical advice.

  What advice? But no amount of cajoling with her doctor revealed the reason.

  Brette was out there, possibly sick, and there wasn’t a thing Ty could do about it.

  No, he didn’t feel like celebrating.

  A knock came at his window and he jerked, painfully aware that he’d just been sitting there, lost in misery.

  Ian Shaw stood in the crisp night, the collar on his leather jacket turned up. Ty rolled the window down. “Hey, Ian.”

  “Are you going in?” Ian gestured to the club.

  “I don’t . . . maybe not.”

  Ian glanced at the Pony. “Awful lot of country love songs going on in there.”

  As if to confirm his words, the door opened and out drifted the heartbreaking tune of a local crooner.

  Can’t get you off my mind

  remembering too well the time

  when I held you in my arms

  When you said you’d be mine . . .

  Ty nodded. “Maybe too much for me.” He hung his arm out the window. “How’s the search going for Sofia d’Cruze?” Apparently, Ella had recognized the face of Ian’s missing person, a woman she roomed with in college.

  The thought stopped him. A woman Brette had also roomed with.

  Brette’s sudden, silent disappearance didn’t have anything to do with the missing Sofia, did it?

  “We got ahold of her family,” Ian said. “She hadn’t returned to Spain, and they filed a missing persons’ report on her over a year ago, but it never made it out this far.”

  “Any leads?”

  “I have hundreds of leads—people who called in from the show. It just takes time to track them all down.”

  Ty glanced at the Pony. Through the big glass window, he saw that Sierra had gotten up, was trying he
r hand at darts.

  He looked back at Ian. “Need some help?”

  But Ian was watching Sierra. She laughed as she clearly missed her target.

  Ian sighed, then looked back at Ty, offered a grim smile. “Let’s get started.”

  NO ONE GOT LEFT BEHIND. Not on Sierra’s watch.

  “Jess, this is PEAK. Come in.”

  Sierra sat at the dispatcher desk of PEAK HQ, her voice raw, stripped, and not a little wrung out from praying. The sun hung low, long shadows pressing into the room, and the smell of burned cookies saturated the air. Silence except for the static of the radio.

  She wasn’t a rescuer, didn’t know the tactics, strategies, and methods of the trained EMTs and mountain rescue specialists of PEAK Rescue.

  But even Sierra knew Jess Tagg could die on that charred mountain if the team didn’t find her, soon.

  “Jess, if you can’t answer, just know we’re not giving up. We’ll find you. I promise.”

  Sierra leaned back, running her hands down her face.

  “Anything?”

  The voice made her turn. Chet had come into the office, looking as exhausted as she felt. He wore a PEAK team gimme cap and a blue windbreaker, lines of worry aging his face. Now, he ran his hand over a layer of white whiskers even as he bent over the giant topographical map in the center of the room. “The fire has cut off the Ranger Creek trail. Gage and Ty have to pull out. They’re closing Going-to-the-Sun Road.”

  Oh no. After a year as the team’s administrative assistant, and even before, as billionaire Ian Shaw’s executive assistant during his search for his missing niece, Sierra possessed a thorough knowledge of the terrain of Glacier National Park.

  Of course, the daily weather reports, the giant map plastered to the wall, and the numerous callouts that brought PEAK Rescue to all four corners of Glacier National Park helped.

  Going-to-the-Sun Road traversed the park, east to west. “If they close the road, how will Jess get out?” she asked.

  “How far has the fire progressed?”

  She glanced up at the radar and the fire display Pete had procured for them to track the wildfires in the Park. Sierra had constructed the scene in her mind’s eye, not to mention the Google Maps view of the terrain.