He agreed and was foolish to attempt to pull off his socks. Wrong decision, he admitted, when halfway through the motion, the cabin started to spin, and nausea rose in his throat.
Merry was there, helping him remove his socks and put on a fresh pair she’d gotten out of his duffel. “Your jacket?”
He hated the mere idea of getting it off, but he knew that in the end, it would be better for both of them to get rid of their outerwear and let the thermal blankets do their job. He shifted and let her ease him out of it.
“Just rest,” she said as he sank back into the cold leather. “Please, rest.”
The pain was almost unbearable now, and he prayed the pills would kick in, despite his incredibly insane actions earlier. He’d heard the noise, recognized it and had gone into some sort of frenzy. He wanted to blame the pain, or anything else except his own idiocy. But he knew the truth, and it had been due to his own stupidity that he felt like this now.
Merry arranged the blankets over him, moving higher, she managed to cover his shoulder, then her hand touched his cheek. “No fever, thank goodness,” she whispered.
“I’ll be fine...in a few minutes,” he said as he looked up at her hovering over him. “Then I’ll redo the fire. Clear the snow and...get it going.”
“Listen, boss,” she said, leaning down to get closer. “You stay put. That pain is nothing to mess with, especially if you have a broken rib. I can do the fire.”
He closed his eyes, hating that concern so evident in her expression. “No, I’ll just...rest for a bit, then I’ll...” He felt so weak, but persisted. “I’ll do it.”
“Uh-huh, you do that.” She tugged the blankets higher over him. “But for now, just rest, please.”
“I will...for a...few minutes,” he murmured, feeling the pain pills starting to act.
“A few minutes,” he heard Merry whisper, then a brush of heat caressed his forehead, the feather touch of her fingers. It felt almost like a caress, but it was gone so fast he couldn’t quite comprehend it. And didn’t try. He needed to wait until the aching receded to an intensity that was manageable, then he’d do what he had to do.
* * *
MERRY WATCHED GAGE as he dozed, and waited patiently until she saw the deep stress lines stamped on his features begin to gradually soften. There was something wrong, the ribs for sure, maybe the concussion that he’d passed off, or something else. She felt afraid and useless, with nothing she could do except keep him still and as warm as possible.
On impulse, she bent over him and cautiously touched his forehead, feeling the dampness there, wishing she could kiss the wound and make it all better—the way she did with her kids when they were sick. His skin felt cool and damp. That was better than feeling hot skin from a fever. She moved and stayed on her knees, backing onto the front seat and to the edge, so she could sit and put her boots back on.
With one last look at Gage, who seemed to be sleeping now, she opened the door, got out and lowered it back into place. She turned, hugging her jacket around herself more tightly, and carefully walked on the icy surface, going to the end of the wing. She got down to the ground, and took a deep breath of frigid air. She could do this. She had to do this.
Trudging to the now dead fire, she stopped and looked up, craning her neck so she could survey the snow laden limbs of the massive pines. She saw only two likely spots where snow could fall and possibly douse the fire again. She’d take care of it. She reached for some nearby snow, made a snowball, then spotted one clump of icy snow clinging to a branch high above. She drew back, then threw the snowball with all her strength.
Amazingly, she hit the clump on the first try, and sent it spraying down, part of it hitting exactly where the fire would be set. Searching for the other clump she’d spotted, again, made another snowball, took aim and threw at the tree. It not only didn’t hit the clump, it hit a branch above it and sprayed snow down on her. She shook her head, got another snowball made, then tried again. This time she hit her mark.
Ten minutes later, Merry was watching the kindling catch, flames flare, licking at the branches she’d retrieved from the cargo space and crisscrossed on top of them. Carefully, when the flames seemed to be going okay, she got a handful of the black grains out of one of the boxes, tossed them at the fire, and immediately, black smoke billowed up, spiraling toward the clouds.
Two more passes. That’s what Gage had told her. That gave them two more chances to be seen. She waited near the fire, watching it, willing it to make it through the clouds to where it could be seen from above. She took the time to close up the fire box again, checked the flares near the wing, replace the used one, then scrambled back up onto the wing.
She headed for the door and pulled it up, feeling the warmer air instantly. Gage still looked asleep, but she could tell he’d moved around. The blankets were untucked and had slipped to the middle of his chest. Both hands were on his stomach, fingers laced. Pulling the door down and shut, she took off her boots, grabbed a couple of energy bars from the first-aid tin and climbed into the back.
Putting the bars on the seat, she stripped off her jacket, tossing it near the bars, then leaned over Gage to tuck the blankets back in for him. As she pushed the edge under his shoulder, she was startled when he spoke. “Nice pitching.”
She drew back, and found herself looking down into midnight dark eyes that were touched by humor. She could tell the pain was being held at bay by the clarity of his expression. “How did you see me throwing the snowballs?”
“Out the window.”
“I thought you were asleep when I went out.”
“I almost was, but when you snuck out, I was curious to see you try to do the fire,” he said, a smile shadowing the corners of his mouth now. “Man, you did a good job.”
“Thanks, boss,” she murmured.
“Boss? I kind of like you calling me that,” he said.
“Good, as long as you don’t call me Boom-Boom,” she countered.
“I’d never do that. I just realized Boom-Boom sounds too much like an exotic dancer.”
She smiled at that. “I’ve had a lot of strange jobs, but not that.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“You’re feeling better?” she asked, fighting the urge to brush errant hair back from his forehead.
“I’m not feeling any pain,” he said, that smile still there.
“Good,” was all she said. “Good.”
He closed his eyes, but went on speaking. “I’m sorry for going crazy. I can only plead stupidity or a reaction to the pain. I don’t know, but if I’d been thinking straight, I would have spotted that snow could fall from the trees and I would have knocked the clumps down like you did before making the fire. I really messed things up royally.”
“You can’t take all the blame. I’m the one who knocked the flare out of your hand,” she countered. “I’m sorry, too. Besides, you said they’ll be back at least two more time.”
“Yes, they will,” he agreed. “Two more chances.”
Merry suddenly felt hungry and reached to pick up the energy bars. She offered Gage one. “It’s not steak, but it’s looking pretty good right about now.”
That brought back a touch of a smile to his face, and she liked that—a lot. Freeing his hands from the cocoon she’d bundled around him, he tore the wrapper on his bar while she opened hers. Merry took a bite, and thought it could have been more savory, but that didn’t stop her from eating every bit of it. When she finished, Gage looked at her with a lifted eyebrow.
“Wow, you actually like that?” he asked. She laughed. “I was thinking it was close to being cardboard, but it’s food, or at least, it’s what passes for food around here.”
“Yeah, chewy cardboard,” he said before popping the last piece of his bar into his mouth.”
“Water?” she
asked.
“Please.”
She pulled two bottles out of the box pushed under their seat and gave him his. After they had both uncapped their bottles and taken drinks, Merry sighed. “This waiting is horrible.”
“No, turning off the heater is what is really horrible,” he said.
“Oh, we have to, don’t we?”
“Yes, we should have turned it off sooner than this.”
“I’ll do it,” she offered and scrambled up to the front to shut it down. She looked back at Gage. “Anything else we need to do before I get under the blankets?”
* * *
“NO,” GAGE REPLIED. “Just wait and listen.” Then Merry came back to him. He watched her arrange the blankets again, pressing against him without him having to coax her to do it. She settled down with a soft sigh.
She’d held up well, despite the crying jag last night. That had been expected. But in every other way, she’d been a rock, doctoring him, doing whatever she had to without hesitation. She’d rebuilt the fire for them. He’d been the one to blow it. “They won’t miss us a second time.” He turned a bit onto his good side to see her more easily. “I promise you that.”
Merry nodded, pulled off her cap, tossed it to one side, and brushed her loose hair away from her face. “Yes, the second time,” she whispered. “We’ll be ready.”
If he’d been in this mess by himself, he knew that he’d be methodically figuring out what to do and he’d do it, despite the pain. But with Merry in the mix, he had a real need to tread more carefully, so he wouldn’t see that look of despair on her face again. “I’m actually glad you paid that hundred dollars for the bulletin board so you could get me to let you on the plane.”
A beautiful smile lit her face, making his breathing hitch for a moment and it had nothing to do with pain. “I’m so glad you went for my convoluted reasoning. I was desperate. Now this. The whole thing is awful, but if I was doing this alone...” She stopped and actually chuckled softly. “Whoa, back up. I wouldn’t be doing this alone, because I’d never fly by myself, but if this world had gone crazy and I did pilot my own plane, I’d be lost alone.”
He enjoyed the way her green eyes could sparkle. Shifting carefully to get his arm up to rest his head on his right hand, he looked down at her. The urge to kiss her came from nowhere and startled him. Not an urge, no, a need, but he confined his response to a caress on her cheek. “I would fly alone. I do fly alone, as much as I can, but right now...” He exhaled. “The world gets crazy, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said softly as he drew his hand back. “Yes.”
Her tongue touched her full lips and whatever control he’d had, was gone. Without hesitation, he bent over her and kissed her. He expected softness and heat, which were there immediately. What he didn’t expect was a shocking sense of connection that came with the embrace.
A sense of finding something that had been hidden from him all his life, but that really was crazy. As crazy as him kissing her and letting his mind race with possibilities. When the idea of needing anyone, period, materialized, he always found a grasp on sanity. Reluctantly, he made himself draw back.
Her face was flushed, her lips parted, and her breathing matched his rapid cadence. “Crazy,” he said roughly, then moved back farther. “I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened.”
He wasn’t sorry, but he knew he had to say that, as certainly as he knew he had to move away and lay down. He had to keep his eyes on the ceiling of the plane. And he had to not touch her again. “It’s the situation, and the medication,” he reminded them, desperate for anything to explain himself to her. Even if it was a lie.
“Sure,” he thought he heard Merry echo, then she shifted, making a small space between them. It felt like a huge void to him.
* * *
MERRY FELL SILENT and watched the faint light on the wall, trying to force her mind to stop fixating on the kiss. Then Gage apologizing for it, and being sorry, pretty much saying it was because of his condition...their condition. That made sense, actually, that bonding between people in life and death situations that wouldn’t mean a thing when the danger passed.
She shut her eyes, hating how the sounds of the helicopter invaded her thoughts—Gage so frantic, then in so much pain, laying by him, him touching her face. His lips on hers.
She opened her eyes immediately, trying to think of something, anything but the man beside her. And she couldn’t afford to doze off. She couldn’t afford to miss anything outside that might let them know the rescuers were coming back.
“Gage?” she finally said in a low voice.
“Yes?”
“What time is it?”
She felt him move, getting his hand free to look at his watch. “Four o’clock. Maybe another hour of daylight. I was just thinking we don’t need to ignite the fire again. It won’t be light long enough to do any good, and they won’t be flying too near sunset.”
“What about the signal in the clearing you talked about? I can cut more branches and make some sort of arrow or something.”
“We both will in the morning,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Do you need more pain pills?”
“No.”
She regretted the awkwardness between them as silence took over the cabin. Neither she nor Gage moved or spoke again as the light began to fade outside and the only glow came from the security lights. As the temperature dropped, Merry chanced moving a bit closer to Gage and to his warmth.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“Cold?”
“A bit.”
She heard the rough exhale before Gage moved, then said, “Lift your head.”
She turned to him for the first time in what seemed hours. “What?” The growing shadows cut darkness at his eyes and jaw. “Why?”
He repeated, “Just lift your head.”
When she did, he moved his right arm up slowly, and around her shoulders. “Body heat, remember?”
She did, pulling the blankets back up to cover them both, She gently settled against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, his heat a blessing as the temperature became colder and colder.
“As I said, body heat,” he murmured.
Closing her eyes tightly, she wouldn’t let herself analyze why she felt safe this way, or why it felt so natural to be curled up against him. She just absorbed the heat that his closeness brought. “It must be the altitude, but I’m exhausted,” she said, barely stifling a yawn.
“Thin air does that.” When he spoke, his voice rumbled against her cheek.
“I guess the kids will be spending a second day at the center without me there,” she remarked, as much to herself as to Gage. “I really blew that.”
“I think you’re underestimating those kids. They are resilient.”
“Usually,” she said, though she could think of a few exceptions. “I just hope Marsala managed to explain things to the kids so they know I didn’t do this on purpose. And that Erin understands.”
“Erin?”
“One of the children. She’s alone. Her mother’s dead, and her father’s in prison serving a life sentence. She doesn’t have anyone.”
Just saying the words tore at her heart. Erin clung to people, needing a family of her own so badly.
“They have Moses to help and he’ll be great. He’ll do the best anyone can under the circumstances. And you’re with me, so that should help with any explanation about your absence.”
She frowned into his chest, the softness of his flannel shirt against her cheek. “Neither one of them would have any idea that I saw you at the airport, let alone took off in your plane with you. The last Marsala heard I was in Pueblo waiting for a flight out. She wasn’t expecting me until this afternoon, but when I don’t show
up, I have no clue what she’ll think.”
“The good part of that is, they don’t know the mess we’re in.”
She bit her lip. “What about your family? They must be worried that you didn’t show up.”
He dropped a bomb on her. “They aren’t expecting me now.”
“What?” she asked. “Don’t tell me this is all a surprise visit, and that they have no idea that you’re supposed to be flying in?”
“They know I’m coming, but not exactly when—could be this week or maybe next, so there’s a two week window there.”
“What about those big important meetings you talked about?”
“They aren’t for four days. I wanted to give myself time to check out the land, to brainstorm the design before discussing the project. But, the tower knows where we were going, and they know we were having trouble. And we know they’re looking for us. The helicopter made a pass.”
Her heart fell with one single thought that came to her. “But what if it wasn’t looking for us? What if it was just out flying around, looking for something else? Maybe skiers or hikers or someone.” She was clutching the blankets near her chin in a death grip now. “They probably didn’t even know about us being down here.”
* * *
GAGE COULD HEAR the desperation in Merry’s voice, and wanted to put a stop to it right away. “Of course they know we’re here. The signals are going out. Listen, we’re doing pretty good. We’ve got the body of the plane intact, heat if we need it, and some awesome snacks, if you like peanut butter and chocolate chips fashioned into cardboard.”
He shifted, moving his arm from under her to get up on his elbow to look right at her. “Are you a gambler?” he asked.
“Are you kidding me? After everything I said about the casino idea.”
“I know, but this is different.”
She frowned. “I don’t have the money to gamble.”
“What if no money was involved? Would you make a bet?”
“I guess so.”
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