Holding On

by Pamela Clare

  They had no choice. They would have to cross the knife’s edge in high winds with Kenzie unconscious on the litter if they wanted to save her life. If they pulled it off, it would be a world-class bit of rescue work. If they didn’t…

  Kenzie wouldn’t be the only one to die.

  Chapter 23

  There was nothing they could use to build an anchor up here—no trees or boulders, no human structures except for the cabin they hoped to reach. A Tyrolean traverse was impossible. So Megs and Belcourt became the anchors, staying far from the edge and setting up belays while Conrad, Hawke, and Moretti made Kenzie as warm as they could, secured her to the litter, and stepped into their climbing harnesses.

  Moretti, armed with his rifle, went first, crawling through wind and snow to the razor’s edge.

  Lying flat, he moved forward until he was straddling the rock. “Fuck. I think I just castrated myself.”

  Slowly, inch by inch, he made his way to the other side. Once across, he hunched low so as not to catch the wind and moved toward the cabin, rifle now in his hands.

  But Conrad’s focus was on Kenzie. He tied the litter into the ropes, double-checking every knot, every connection. “Hold on, honey.”

  She hadn’t moved or opened her eyes, and it scared the hell out of him.

  Beside him, Gizmo whimpered, leaning over Kenzie, licking her face.

  It put an ache in Conrad’s chest. “I’m going to take good care of her, and Megs is going to take good care of you. When we all get home, I’m going to treat you to a steak dinner. Do you like rib eyes?”

  At that moment, Moretti kicked open the cabin door and moved inside. He stepped out, shook his head, shouted back across the abyss. “Clear!”

  Conrad went next, his upper body on top of the litter, inching it and himself along. The wind was unreal, forcing Conrad to grip the rock with his thighs. If he let himself be blown off this ridge, Kenzie would fall with him. Though he wouldn’t fall far—Megs and Belcourt were taking up the slack—it still wouldn’t be fun or safe for either of them.

  Behind him, Gizmo barked in distress. Megs had attached his leash to her harness. Gizmo was so loyal to Kenzie that they’d been afraid he’d try to follow and end up falling or being blown away.

  Lying on his belly and still roped in, Moretti met him halfway, helping Conrad to guide the litter off the sharp rock’s edge and into the snow.

  Kenzie was safely across.

  Thank God.

  Conrad reached the other side a moment later, crawling forward beneath a battering wind. He untied the rope, let Megs and Belcourt pull it back.

  Hawke roped in and started across, a gear bag dangling over each side on cords—a safer option in this wind than a backpack.

  But Conrad’s concern now was for Kenzie. He and Moretti lifted the litter and carried it up wooden steps to the cabin door. Moretti shouldered the door open, and at last Kenzie was inside. Though it was still below freezing in the cabin, it was much warmer, the bitter wind held at bay by sturdy log walls and a thick stone foundation.

  Conrad glanced around the dim interior. There was an old bed frame in one corner, an empty sleeping bag beside it. There were a few large ammo boxes next to the sleeping bag. A pot sat next to the fireplace and beside that a stack of firewood. “Someone has been living here.”

  He didn’t have to wonder who it might have been.

  “I’m going to check around the back, make sure no one’s walking up behind us.” Moretti grabbed his rifle and headed back out into the storm.

  Conrad got a fire going, warmth spilling through the small space. He returned to Kenzie, drew her closer to the fire, stroked her face. “Kenzie, honey, can you hear me?”

  He’d been an EMT for most of a decade, but this was somehow different. Everything he knew seemed to vanish from his mind, chased away by adrenaline. “Snap out of it, goddamn it.”

  Behind him, the door opened, and Hawke walked inside, dragging the gear bags with him. He bent down, hands on his knees, to catch his breath, then walked over to Conrad, gear bags and all.

  “You’ve done your part. Let me take care of her.”

  Conrad nodded, moving aside for Hawke who ripped into one of the gear bags and pulled out an advanced first-aid kit.

  In his earpiece, Conrad heard Megs tell Ahearn back in Ops that they were heading back down to Rescue 1. Belcourt asked Ahearn to tone out a vet and said he was carrying Gizmo down wrapped in an emergency blanket.

  It would be a long, cold descent.

  Hawke knelt at Kenzie’s side. “Help me get her out of the sleeping bag. I need to check that bullet wound and make sure it’s not bleeding. Then we can warm her up.”

  Conrad gently lifted Kenzie while Hawke got her out of the sleeping bag and then laid her gently back into the litter. “Kenzie, we’re going to take care of you now.”

  She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

  Hawke carefully removed the tourniquet then cut off her jeans to expose several blood-soaked bandages that had frozen together. “The cold probably helped slow the bleeding. As she warms up, it might be a bigger problem.”

  Hawke tossed the frozen Quikclot bandages aside, pressed fresh ones against the wound, and bound them in place with gauze. “Okay, buddy, time to strip down to your skivvies.”

  While Conrad shed his parka, summit pants, and jeans, Hawke undressed Kenzie down to her bra and panties—a strange thing to watch.

  “Look at this.” Hawke reached for something that was sticking out of her bra—and pulled out her cellphone.

  You sweet, beautiful, smart woman.

  If not for that cellphone…

  Conrad didn’t want to think about that.

  Half-naked now, he discovered the cabin wasn’t as warm as it had seemed at first. They worked quickly, zipping Kenzie back inside the sleeping bag and moving it closer to the fire. Hawke put a dry woolen hat on her head. Then Conrad crawled inside with her, holding her against him, trying to warm her with his body heat.

  “Come on, Kenzie. Wake up.”

  The door opened, and Moretti strode inside. “I didn’t see anyone.

  He leaned his AR-15 against the wall and took off his parka. “I guess they must still be armed if they have all this ammo.”

  Moretti walked over to the ammo cans and opened one. “Jesus H Christ on a fucking crutch.”

  He reached in—and pulled out a fat stack of bills.

  Conrad stared. “Holy fuck.”

  So that bastard who’d abducted her had been one of the robbers.

  Moretti opened all of the ammo cans and found cash in each.

  Hawke gave a low whistle. “There’s no way those guys just walked off into the sunset and left all that loot here.”

  “Yeah.” Moretti crossed the room, grabbed his weapon. “I’ll stay alert.”

  “You better call that in.” Hawke said. “Let dispatch know we found the money.”

  “Right.”

  Now they could do nothing but hope that the others made it back safely and wait for a rescue in the morning.

  Kenzie heard herself moan, pain driving her from sleep.

  “I think she’s coming around.”

  A warm hand stroked her cheek. “Kenzie, I’m right here.”

  Harrison.

  “See if you can get her to drink.”

  Someone lifted her head.

  “You need to drink, honey. Come on.”

  She felt the edge of a cup press against her lips and sipped, something warm and wonderful sliding down her throat.

  Conrad coaxed her into drinking more. “That’s it. We need to warm you up and get you hydrated.”

  She drank again, the warmth soothing.

  “How do you feel?”

  She managed one word. “Hurts.”

  “I’m going to give you some morphine, okay?” That sounded like Hawke.

  She felt a prick—and everything faded.

  She had no idea how much time had passed when Harrison’s voice
urged her awake again. “Drink.”

  She sipped.

  “There you go. Good job.”

  She opened her eyes, found herself in his arms in a sleeping bag, the crackling of a fire somewhere nearby. But this wasn’t her home. “Where are we?”

  “We’re in the old cabin at Hasting’s mine.”

  It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did, it all came rushing back to her. Don. His gun. His arms flailing as she knocked him over the edge. Gizmo licking her face.

  Her eyes flew wide on a jolt of panic. “Gizmo! Where—?”

  “He’s safe back in Scarlet. Megs has him.”

  “He’s okay?”

  “She took him to see a vet. Apart from exhaustion and some sore paws, he’s okay.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ve promised him a steak. That dog is a hero.”

  Hot tears blurred her vision, her emotions threadbare. “I was so afraid he’d be hurt. That bastard tried to shoot him. I threw myself at him, tried to stop him. I didn’t mean to knock him over the edge.”

  Harrison’s brows drew together in a frown. “Rest. Don’t think about that now. You defended yourself and Gizmo. You’re safe. Hawke and Moretti are here, too.”

  “Hey, Kenzie.” Eric sat right beside her to her left.

  Jesse stood behind him. “Glad to see you feeling better.”

  “Hi, guys.” Then it dawned on her that she was all but naked—and stuffed inside a sleeping bag with Harrison, who was all but naked, too. Well, this was different. “I never thought you’d be rescuing me.”

  Exhaustion pulled her back into sleep.

  Conrad woke to the sound of Moretti putting wood on the fire. He raised his head, watched the peaceful rise and fall of Kenzie’s breathing.

  She’d almost been killed trying to save Gizmo’s life. She’d taken a bullet for him. And Gizmo would have died to stay by her side.

  The thought put an ache in Conrad’s chest.

  Hawke met Conrad’s gaze. “She’s going to be okay.”

  “I almost lost her. If we had waited…” The thought put a knot in Conrad’s gut.

  “We didn’t.” Moretti stretched out on his sleeping bag, rifle at his side.

  Conrad looked from Moretti to Hawke. “Thanks. I couldn’t have gotten to her in time without you.”

  Hawke chuckled. “Bullshit.”

  “If anyone could have done this on his own, it’s you. You kicked my ass running up the mountain.” Moretti turned onto his back. “You’re a fucking hero, man. Now shut up and let me get some shut-eye.”

  Hero.

  This time the word didn’t bother Conrad.

  He drew the sleeping bag up to Kenzie’s chin, doing his best to hold in every bit of warmth. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, whether she would want him in her life again, but she was alive.

  In this moment, that was everything.

  Bundled up against the cold, Kenzie watched the sky pass by overhead as Harrison, Eric, and Jesse carried her litter down the steep, snowy slope behind the cabin toward the waiting chopper. For some reason—probably the morphine—she found this all rather wonderful.

  “You guys are doing a great job.”

  Harrison grinned down at her. “Hey, we’re professionals, remember?”

  Some of the crew from the helicopter joined them, helping to carry the litter the rest of the way. They lifted her into the bird, the rotors unmoving overhead, Harrison, Eric, and Jesse climbing in behind her.

  “I’ve never been in a helicopter before.”

  Brandon Silver, one of Hawke’s crew, stuck something on her finger. “Hey, Kenzie. I’m going to take good care of you till we get you to the hospital.”

  He put an oxygen mask on her face and started an IV. “This is just heated fluids. The oxygen is warm as well. They’ll help bring up your core temp. I’ve got some heated blankets here, too.”

  The warmth felt wonderful.

  “Harrison?”

  A big hand took hers. “I’m right here.”

  “Stay.”

  “I promise.”

  The journey to the hospital lasted perhaps fifteen minutes—Kenzie was so out of it that she couldn’t tell. She was lifted onto a gurney and hurried inside to the ER, where Malachi O’Brien took over her care, putting her on a bed with a body-length heating pad, giving her IV antibiotics and pain medication, examining the wound in her leg, and sending her off for an X-ray.

  “You’re incredibly lucky,” he told her. “There’s no damage to the bone or your artery. But you are going to need surgery to get that ball out. I’m going to page Dr. Warren. In the meantime, you rest. We want to stabilize your core temp first.”

  And for the first time since Harrison had walked out of her house, Kenzie and Harrison were alone.

  “Thank you for—”

  “Kenzie, I—”

  They spoke at the same time, laughed.

  “Please, Kenzie, there’s something I need to say.” He drew a breath. “I am so sorry for what I said to you. Yes, I do miss Gabby, but I miss you more.”

  He got a troubled expression on his face. “That’s not coming out right.”

  Kenzie wasn’t all that clear-headed, but she thought she knew what he was trying to say. Hope blossomed behind her breastbone. “I’m listening.”

  “You were right. I need help. I called Esri.”

  That was good news—but it wasn’t what she’d been hoping for. “I’m so glad.”

  “I’m blowing this.” He leaned back, let out a breath, ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Shit. I had no idea it would be this hard.”

  “Just say it.”

  His gaze met hers, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “I love you, Kenzie. I’m so sorry about what I said and how I walked out on you. I want to be a part of your life—if you’ll have me back.”

  Kenzie’s eyes filled with tears, her spirit soaring beyond the pain and fatigue in her body. “In my heart, you never left.”

  His relief was palpable. “I was on my way to your place with flowers and ice cream to apologize when I heard you’d been abducted. I was so afraid.”

  “Thank you for coming after me.” More tears. “If you hadn’t found me…”

  “There is nothing in this world that could have kept me away from you.”

  Kenzie told him what had happened from the moment Don had walked in until she’d begun to lose consciousness. “I tried, Harrison, really I did. I tried to keep going, but I had to crawl, and it was so cold.”

  “You did enough. You hid that cellphone. You stood up to that son of a bitch, kept him off-balance. You stayed alive until we could reach you.”

  “I thought I was dead. All I could think was that Gizmo would die because of me—and that I would never see you again.”

  Harrison wiped a tear from her cheek. “That’s not how our story ends.”

  He took over from there, telling her how Dree had seen and called the police and how he’d used the Find My Phone app on her laptop to find her. He told her how SWAT had called off the search and how he and the others had pulled together to go after her. He told her how Gizmo had found them and led them to her. He told her how they’d gotten her across the knife’s edge to the cabin and done what they could to stabilize her.

  “I’m so glad I was unconscious.” Good freaking heaven! “I would have been terrified.”

  “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

  “What about the other guy—Don’s partner? That’s who Don made me track. He stole Don’s share of their money.”

  “No honor among thieves, I guess. We didn’t find that bastard’s partner—but we did find the money they stole.”

  “What?”

  “It was there in the cabin stashed in ammo cans. We brought it back on the helicopter. Hawke turned it into the sheriff.”

  A new fear niggled at her. “What if this guy comes after Gizmo or me? What if he shows up—”

  Then Dr. Warren walked in. “Young lady, d
on’t take this the wrong way, but I’d like to see a lot less of you in the ER.”

  Kenzie smiled. “Me, too.”

  Harrison stayed with her, walking beside her as she was wheeled off to the operating room. “I’ll be right here when you get out.”

  “Thanks.” Then she remembered.

  How could she have forgotten?

  She squeezed his hand. “I love you, too.”

  Conrad found most of the Team in the surgery waiting area.

  “How is she?” Megs sat with Gizmo on a leash beside her, his two front paws in protective bandages.

  “She’s sore and in some pain, but they say she’s going to be okay.” He knelt down. “How’s the bravest dog ever?”

  Gizmo wagged his tail and slathered Conrad’s face with kisses.

  “Are you going to tell us what happened up there?” Sasha had Gabby, who whined and pranced, tail wagging.

  Conrad scooped the puppy up, held her. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  He sat, Gabby on his lap, Gizmo at his feet, and shared what Kenzie had told him about her ordeal, the horror of it hitting him hard.

  He had come so damned close to losing her.

  “She threw herself at the bastard to stop him from killing Gizmo. He fell backward over the edge. The round hit her in the thigh.”

  When Conrad reached the part where Kenzie realized she was lapsing into unconsciousness, he had to stop, his throat too tight to continue.

  He swallowed, drew a breath. “Gizmo stayed with her, right beside her, until he heard us. He barked. I heard him and called for him. He led us to her.”

  He didn’t have to tell them about the rescue. The entire Team had stood together in the Ops Room, listening.

  Sasha wiped tears from her face then knelt down and hugged Gizmo. “You’re just about the best dog ever. Yes, you, too, Gabby.”

  Then everyone had to pet Gizmo and praise him, which didn’t bother him at all. He soaked up the attention—and deserved all of it.

  “That was some epic climbing, seriously risky shit,” Herrera said. “It had to be hairy crossing that ridge. I’ve been up there and seen it.”