“The fire is heading toward Goat Mountain,” she answered, her voice taut.
Chet stood up, gave her a grave nod.
Don’t cry.
Because rescuers didn’t give up. At least the PEAK team didn’t, and right now, she wanted to be just as brave, just as smart, just as dependable as Gage, Ty, Jess, Ben, Kacey, and Sam.
“Keep trying,” Chet said.
She nodded and turned back to the radio, keeping her voice even, calm, just like Chet King, her boss, had taught her. “Jess Tagg, come in.”
She should have guessed that the routine call would turn south.
Because nothing could ever be considered routine in the world of search and rescue.
A forest fire had ignited near Saint Mary Lake, in the drought-dry forest in the eastern half of the park, and a week later over four hundred wildland firefighters from across Montana, Idaho, Washington state, and even Minnesota battled to control nearly four thousand acres of inferno.
Separated from their team, two firefighters had outrun a spur of flame, jumping over a cliff to escape the blaze.
Into that inferno, her PEAK rescue teammates flew to rescue them.
Now, with the firestorm on the mountain creating its own weather, what should have been a simple drop and extract had turned precarious.
The wind was cycloning at the top of the cliff, and Kacey had struggled to hold the chopper steady enough to rig the ropes and haul the litter in, never mind the danger to the occupant.
Thus, she’d lowered the chopper to the cliff’s ledge. There, she held it while EMTs Gage Watson and Jess Tagg loaded the first injured firefighter into the chopper.
Sierra had heard enough stories from Pete Brooks and Miles Dafoe, their wild land firefighter experts, to visualize the flames torching the treetops, the choking black smoke, the toxic creosote and ash that hung in the air. The chopper churned that debris up, clogging the air, blinding them, and whipping the fire back to fury.
Sierra had paced as she listened to the rescue on the radio, her arms wrapped around her waist.
She hated this part of her job—watching, listening, not able to do anything but pray.
Somewhere in there, the beeper had gone off on the oven. She felt silly then, mixing up a batch of cookies like they might be on a picnic.
Small comfort when lives hung in the balance, but that was her job. Pay the bills, clean the office, run the schedule, and make sure PEAK ran on all engines.
Which included fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies for the team when they returned.
Oh yeah, she was a real asset to the team.
Somehow when she’d left her job as Ian Shaw’s executive assistant over a year ago, she envisioned herself actually contributing. She didn’t have the bravado of EMT Jess Tagg, or the mountaineering skills of EMT Gage Watson, or even the smarts of Sam Brooks, their deputy liaison, but she longed to be someone who made a difference. Like Ty Remington. Sure, he wasn’t flying anymore, but he still went on callouts, assisted in searches, helped coordinate rescues. And with Pete Brooks gone, moving onto greener pastures as a disaster incident commander with the Red Cross, she sort of hoped there might be a slot open to her.
Not that she had any training, really, but she could learn.
Someday wear the jacket, be a part of the PEAK team roster.
“Ready to load.”
Sierra had been responding to the timer beeping, turning it off and reaching for her oven mitts, when she heard the explosion. A terrible ripping of metal and wood.
And behind it, Jess screamed.
Sierra forgot the cookies, ran back to the dispatch desk.
White noise crackled through Sierra like electricity. All she could imagine was the chopper slamming against the side of the mountain, splintering, falling the two hundred feet to the base.
Crashing and killing everyone aboard.
Oh, please—
Then, “Mayday! Mayday! We lost a rotor, and we’re going down.”
The calm, nearly stoic darkness of Kacey’s voice betrayed the years of military chopper training. But in the background, behind her mic, Sierra heard shouting.
“Jess!”
And behind that, the roar of a wounded, flailing chopper.
Sierra caught her breath. In her mind’s eye, she could see it. Ben King in the copilot seat, maybe EMTs Jess and Gage in the back, clutching the strapping in the cargo bay as the chopper spun out of control, careening toward some jagged gorge or granite mountainside—
The line went dead. Sierra picked up the mic. Please, God. “Air Rescue, come in!”
Silence.
She pressed her hand over her mouth, closed her eyes as the silence stretched out, leaving only the terrible thundering of her heart.
Air Rescue, come in. How many times she’d called, she couldn’t remember.
“I’m going out to the barn to check on the retrieval of the chopper,” Chet said. “Let me know if you get ahold of her.”
She nodded.
Retrieval of the chopper. Sierra pressed her hand against her stomach, hearing again Kacey’s mayday as everything went south.
And repeating, over and over, her dark, broken words. Air Rescue, come in.
Until—and she nearly wept with relief—Kacey finally responded.
She’d managed to put the damaged chopper down safely at a nearby campground. All passengers safe.
Except for Jess. Who’d been left on the cliffside.
And, in the four hours since then, unaccounted for.
Now, Sierra sat in the chair and repeated her words for the countless time. “Please, Jess, come in.”
Please.
Acknowledgments
I love to ski. I learned when I was five years old, skiing a tiny hill near our home. As a family, we eventually graduated to the Colorado, Utah, and Montana mountain resorts. I loved standing at the top of the mountain, seeing the glorious granite peaks touch the clouds, then losing myself in the rush of wind in my ears. I was pretty good—I loved to take jumps, ski moguls, and float down powder. Even had a wicked wipeout on the back bowls of Vail.
I’ve always wanted to write a story about skiing (or in this case, snowboarding), capture the feeling—and often, the fear—of winging down a mountain. I’m enthralled by freeriders who ski off mountain cliffs and through couloirs and plow through deep powdery fields. It’s so dangerous . . .
Some might say reckless.
Not long ago, my son left school to do something rather dangerous. No, not freeriding, but a job that was significantly high risk. My friends asked . . . why did you let him do this?
Um, because he’s an adult? And I have to let him make his own choices.
And because God is with him, even in choices I don’t agree with.
In fact, my riskiest choices, even if they led to mistakes, were the ones where I clung to God the most.
But what happens when those choices go south? So often we blame ourselves or others—and maybe rightly so. But we also seem to forget that God doesn’t stop loving us because we make a mistake or even a bad choice.
Some people, like Ella, live their lives trying to do everything right, fearing that if they mess up, God won’t like them, won’t rescue them. And others, like Gage, refuse to believe that God could be on their side because of their biggest failures.
Lies.
We can’t live a life free of mistakes—they’re one of our biggest tools for learning. And God lets us walk into mistakes! He warns us, yes, and suggests we “stay in his line” (to use a snowboarding term), but he not only lets us choose our line but stays with us if take our own course. And helps us pick up the debris when we wipe out.
Not because we’re so awesome. But because he is awesome. And he loves us, period. Full stop.
That wild thought makes me feel as if I’m standing on top of the mountain, the glory of the mountainscape around me, reaching to the heavens, and pushing off into the white grace of unblemished powder.
Freein
g. Flying.
May you break free of your fear of mistakes and fly in the grace of God’s love.
Thank you for reading Gage and Ella’s story! Stay with me for book #4 in the Montana Rescue series as Ian and Sierra finally get their adventure . . . but will they find a happy ending?
My deepest gratitude goes to the following people who show up to help me, story after story. I’m blessed by their faithfulness in this journey with me!
MaryAnn Lund, my beloved mother, who loved me just because I was her daughter. I miss you.
Curt Lund, for your continued ideas, guidance, and support in helping me research the PEAK team. I’m so grateful for your creativity and wisdom!
David Warren, who knows how to manage the erratic emotions of his crazy author mother with fantastic ideas, brilliant storycrafting, and wonderful encouragement. Thank you for seeing my vision and helping me flesh out characters and scenes. I know I’ve said this, but really, you’re brilliant.
Rachel Hauck, my brilliant writing partner. What would I do without you? Thank you for walking this journey with me. I am so blessed to be your bestie!
Andrew Warren, who is kind enough to feed me when I forget to eat, lost in a story, and wise enough to know when to pull me away because my brain is about to explode. There is no one I’d rather take this wild ride of life with.
Noah Warren, Peter Warren, Sarah and Neil Erredge, for being my people. I know I can always count on you, and that is a rare and beautiful thing. I love you.
Steve Laube, for being the one dispensing wisdom. I’m blessed to have you on my team!
Andrea Doering, for seeing my vision, for your wisdom about story lines and characters. Because of you, I write better books. I am so grateful for you!
The amazing Revell team, who believe in this series and put their best into making it come to life—from editing to cover design to marketing. I’m so delighted to partner with you!
To my Lord Jesus Christ, who shows up to protect, provide for, and love me. You make me fly.
Susan May Warren is the USA Today, ECPA, and CBA best-selling author of over fifty novels with more than one million books sold, including Wild Montana Skies and Rescue Me. Winner of a RITA Award and multiple Christy and Carol Awards, as well as the HOLT and numerous Readers’ Choice Awards, Susan has written contemporary and historical romances, romantic suspense, thrillers, romantic comedy, and novellas. She can be found online at www.susanmaywarren.com, on Facebook at Susan May Warren Fiction, and on Twitter @susanmaywarren.
Books by Susan May Warren
MONTANA RESCUE
Wild Montana Skies
Rescue Me
A Matter of Trust
www.susanmaywarren.com
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A Matter of Trust Page 29