Expect the Sunrise

by Susan May Warren

Everything inside him wanted to explode, to shout her name. But his voice echoing across the canyon just might be enough to kill them both.

  Chapter 18

  “GERARD, WHAT ARE you doing here?”

  They had to wrestle her father to his knees and put him in a submission hold while Andee traversed the gorge. She saw the horror on his face when she touched ground, the way his eyes fought to glaze over, to show nothing, to feel nothing.

  It was a look she hadn’t seen since that day on the tarmac, her sixteenth birthday, when her mother had demanded, “Choose.”

  As Andee stared at her father, forced to his knees, his hands tied behind him, a gun to his head, that moment returned. A flash of pain that cut so deep it felt like lightning had scored her down the middle.

  Choose. The word froze her, just as it had so many years before when her world shattered. She’d listened to the impossible word echo in her ears, staring at the two people who embodied her future.

  Did she choose flying with her father, the one who’d taught her to trust herself, to believe that she could overcome her fears and find the strength to reach the other side? Yet he was the one who disappeared, who chose, over and over, his job above his daughter.

  Or did she choose her mother? Steady. Wise. Accomplished. Wanting only Andee’s future. The one who tucked her into bed each night, who fed her, clothed her.

  An impossible choice.

  But as her father met her gaze now, horror in his eyes, she realized that maybe she hadn’t been the one forced to choose at all. Had her mother looked at her . . . or Gerard? What if she had demanded that Gerard, not Andee, choose?

  Gerard had gotten into his plane and flown off. Without a word of explanation, leaving Andee to fill in the blanks.

  She wondered now if perhaps, finally, she didn’t have the answers. Maybe his choice had cost him even more than it had cost her. Maybe he hadn’t come after her because he couldn’t.

  Not because he didn’t want to. Maybe his choice had to do with this very moment, seeing his daughter—or his wife— suffer. The thought pushed tears into her eyes.

  “I told you, MacLeod, that you’d do what we wanted,” the one called Constantine said.

  Andee listened closely to him, noticing he spoke without an accent. The man who’d followed her across the river and cut the rope trekked out ahead of them, then turned and glared, as if impatient.

  Andee felt hands on her neck, forcing her to her knees. She refused to wince at the pressure and simply clamped her jaw and allowed her hands to be taped behind her. She kept eye contact with her father, willing him to explain.

  “Get up, MacLeod,” Constantine said, gripping her father’s jacket collar. “We have some flying to do.”

  “Not unless you let her go.”

  Andee felt the barrel of Nina’s gun press against her temple. “Get up, MacLeod.”

  Andee thought he might break into two pieces from the way his expression wavered, his jaw quivering with a rage she’d never before seen. “I’m sorry, Andee. I thought I could protect you from all this. I thought that keeping you away from me might—”

  “Shut up!” Constantine cuffed him, and Gerard fell chin first into the dirt. He pulled Gerard up by this jacket. “Get up. Now. Or she dies.” He glanced at Nina and nodded.

  Realization came like a fist, clamping hard. “They want you to fly them over the pipeline,” Andee said.

  Gerard met her eyes, said nothing. He didn’t have to. Andee remembered the device in Nina’s pocket, Mac’s wild theories, and she knew.

  “You’re going to blow the pipeline from the air,” she said. “You’ve already set the charges, and you’re going to destroy—”

  Nina grabbed her hair. “If we kill him, we still have you. Shut up.” She eyed Constantine. “How far to the plane?”

  “A half kilometer maybe. We parked it on the Dalton.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Nina forced Andee to her feet, pushed her ahead toward the brush.

  Gerard met her in stride and kept his voice low. “I know I made mistakes with you, Andee. But right now I need you to be the girl I raised you to be. I can’t protect you anymore, but you can protect yourself.”

  Andee glanced at him, frowning, ducking as a branch slapped at her from Constantine’s plow through the forest ahead of her. She’d heard Nina threaten Mac on the two-way. She’d wanted to cry out, to tell him the right answer. But she already knew what he’d choose. The pipeline. That was the only choice.

  “Run,” Gerard whispered. “Run for the river.” He snuck a look at her, his eyes holding that twinkle, the one right before they had an adventure. The one that told her he had a plan.

  And leave him here alone? But Nina had her gun. And— “I can’t.”

  “You can. Run!”

  He spun, kicked at Nina, and Andee bolted. She flew past Nina, who barely missed her, and sped through the woods, her footsteps sure. She heard shots, then screaming and shut herself from them. Run! The hot blood in her ears filled her veins with adrenaline. She ripped and tugged at the bonds as she ran, feeling her hands break free.

  She burst into the clearing where she’d crossed over the gorge.

  And then she was flying over the edge, her arms windmilling, her body caught in the spray of river as she fell.

  No!

  Mac froze as he watched Andee fling herself over the edge of the cliff. She’d materialized from the woods like some forest animal and screamed as she hit the air. His knees gave out as she plummeted into the white water below.

  A man appeared right after her, pointed a gun where she’d been, then advanced to the edge, searching.

  Mac picked up a rock and with everything he had in him threw it across the gorge. It hit Andee’s shooter in the neck. The man fell back and shot at Mac. He dived behind a boulder. Bullets chipped rocks around him, but it bought Andee time. Precious time.

  Except, well, if she didn’t get out of that river fast, hypothermia would grab her like a bear after hibernation and pull her under. That is, if she didn’t go over the falls first.

  Go, go! Mac willed the shooter. He peeked to see him disappear into the woods. Good. Maybe they’d believe they shot him.

  Or not. Please let Phillips and Ishbane have reached someone!

  Mac advanced to the edge of the gorge, searching for Andee. He saw her, a black head bobbing in the water. “Andee!” Giving one last look at the hole in the forest left by the shooter, Mac flung himself over the edge.

  He circled his arms, fighting to stay upright. When he hit the water, the cold stole the breath from his lungs. It sucked him under; water closed over his head. Everything in him told him to kick, and he lunged hard for the surface.

  Air. He sucked it in even as he felt the current take him. It wrestled him downstream as he fought to stay afloat. “Andee!” The cold burned his limbs, fire in every pore. The water filled his nose and blurred his vision.

  “Andee!” He choked, coughing. Banging a rock, he pushed off from it, righting himself. Think, Mac.

  He backstroked, turning himself so he faced downstream. His legs forward, he let himself ride the current, pushing away from rocks, arrowing downstream.

  Andee had long since disappeared.

  His body felt numb as the canyon flowed by. The river roared in his ears, thunder that threatened to consume him.

  Then he saw her. She was clinging to a boulder the size of a half-submerged moose, a blur of red as the white water lashed his vision. “Andee!”

  She looked in his direction, and the current nearly ripped her clutch from the boulder. He watched her grit her teeth as she pulled herself up, climbing onto the rock. Then she turned around and held out her hand.

  Mac had his feet on the rock, slowing him when he caught her grip. Fear flashed across her face for a second as his weight threatened to pull her back into the water. He’d let go before he let that happen. He dug his fingers into the rock, and with her pulling, he managed to get a firm grip. He
hauled himself out of the water and climbed onto the rock, breathing hard and shivering.

  Andee sat beside him, her hands tucked around her knees, shaking. Water coursed down her face, into her neck, her saturated red jacket and spilled from her boots.

  He put his arm around her, pulled her tight against him, his heart still pounding. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, or maybe that was trembling. In any case, she leaned against him. “I can’t believe you jumped in after me! Are you crazy?” she said through chattering teeth.

  “Maybe.” He leaned back so he could look in her eyes, her beautiful eyes. “I reacted on impulse. I just . . . I couldn’t let you die, Andee. Not if I could save you. I—”

  “I’m okay, Mac.”

  “But I’m not.” His own words rocked him. No, he wasn’t all right at all. When he’d seen her go over the edge, only one thought fought for control of his mind: Andee. Not duty or patriotism or honor, just Andee.

  He took her face in his hands. “You scared me. I saw you go over, and I thought you were dead. I couldn’t stop myself. All I thought of was getting to you, pulling you out of the water before you froze to death.” She opened her mouth as if to protest, but his words continued in a rush. “Andee, I know perfectly well that you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but deep inside, I had to make sure.”

  She stared up at him—big eyes, mouth parted—and all his emotions rushed through him in one roaring gulp.

  He kissed her. Hard. Letting all his desperation flow into a kiss that was probably just as much about himself and his fears and everything he’d bottled up for a decade as it was about showing her he loved her.

  Loved? Aye, maybe those feelings that exploded within him, those hot, needy feelings that had pushed him off a cliff could be called love. That, along with the fact that every time he was around her he longed to be the man who made her smile and feel safe, who listened to her and believed in her.

  And then, wow, she kissed him back. Curled her hands into his jacket, and despite the fact that both of them were shaking, she kissed him just as desperately.

  As if, perhaps, she’d been afraid and needed him too.

  He pulled himself away, just enough so he could see her eyes and hopefully determine her emotions. “I . . . that’s the second time I did that without asking first.” He swallowed, a fruitless effort to get ahold of his breath. “You have to know that I don’t normally kiss a lady without asking first.”

  “Or jump into a river after her? I don’t suppose you do.” Andee smiled, but her expression looked haunted. “I don’t either, but we don’t have time to talk about this right now. My dad is up there with Nina and a couple other terrorists, and they’re going to kill him.”

  Mac saw the tears that edged her eyes. She wiped them away and bounded to her feet. “We gotta get help.”

  Mac trailed her as she balanced over the rocks toward shore. He grabbed her elbow in case she slipped and took another wild jump. “We can’t get them in time. But we can get to camp. I left the two-way with Phillips. I’m hoping he got through to someone.”

  Andee nodded.

  Mac felt the numbing cold advance on him as he followed Andee to shore.

  Chapter 19

  ANDEE HEARD MAC behind her, pushing her toward camp. Everything hurt—her skin, her feet, her arms, and especially her heart. Because her father was out there, because for the first time in her life she understood.

  Her father hadn’t rejected her. Not really. Not in his eyes. Because despite Gerard’s choices, he’d still loved her. And in the end, that was what mattered.

  And what’s more . . . Mac had followed her into a river because he thought she needed him. Never mind that she’d pulled herself out. The fact that he’d dropped his agenda— everything he’d believed in—to come after her . . .

  She really didn’t know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of search and rescue. To know that someone was out there, with her on his mind. Until now.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the soggy, shivering man, his curls draped behind his ears. His blue eyes held a fire she’d come to expect, probably the passion of a Scot, and she knew, now that she was safe, that her father would be next on Mac’s save-the-world agenda.

  “Hurry, Andee,” Mac said, coming up to put his arm around her.

  “I know, Mac. They’re going to take off any second. Nina had a transmitter—”

  “You’re shivering. I’m afraid you’re going into hypothermia.”

  She felt his arm around her waist, felt her feet barely touch the ground. “But what about the pipeline?”

  Mac’s face was rigid. “I’m only one man. And I can only do what I can. I’m trusting that God’s abilities are greater than mine.”

  A smile tipped Andee’s lips, but she still worried. She should probably remember that also. That maybe God had everything under control, even when she felt like it all rested on her shoulders.

  In the end, perhaps the Almighty could be trusted to guide her steps if she walked them in faith.

  They found the trail. Mac held her hand as they ran, keeping her from tripping, pulling her up when her feet refused to cooperate. She felt her body start to become heavy, sluggish.

  She tripped, but before she hit the ground, Mac scooped her up in his arms. She didn’t have a bone to resist as she laid her head against his chest. He held her tight against him. She smelled river water on him, but she pressed her lips to the base of his neck, feeling his whiskers brush her cheek.

  “Don’t go to sleep,” he said, a low growl of warning.

  She nodded, but her head bobbed, feeling as if it weighed a billion pounds.

  “Andee! Don’t go to sleep!”

  “No.” But worry loosened its hold, and her mind began to let go of the vision she had of millions of gallons of oil saturating the valley. Of her father’s eyes, urging her to run. She saw Mac, leaning against the wall of the airport, looking dangerous and arrogant as he sized her up. Saw him carrying Sarah and racing down the scree hill to save her life. She heard his voice as he stared at the stars:

  “As fair art thou, my bonie lass,

  So deep in luve am I;

  And I will luve thee still, my dear,

  Till a’ the seas gang dry.”

  She smiled into the memory of him holding her after she’d scared away the grizzly and the glow of candlelight against his handsome, whiskered, warrior face as he’d wished her happy birthday.

  “I love you, Mac.”

  “Do ya now?”

  She smiled again, her head bobbing against Mac’s chest, warm now, and she thought she saw visions, crazy happy visions of friends she knew calling her name. Heard Sarah’s voice singing to her.

  She saw Mac, his face close to hers, touching his lips against her forehead. “Don’t leave me, Emma.”

  “Where is she?” Constantine hollered when Juan ran up behind them, out of breath.

  “She jumped!” Juan bent over at the waist, gulping in breaths. “But she’s in the water. She won’t survive.”

  Yes, she will. That’s my girl. Gerard glared at Constantine.

  Constantine looked at him. Gerard met his gaze with a look of triumph. Constantine cuffed him, and he tasted fresh blood.

  “She won’t live,” Constantine snarled. “That water’s near freezing.” Still, he stood over Gerard, shaking his head.

  “Let’s go,” Juan said, leveling his gun at Gerard. “Get up.”

  Gerard turned into a rock. Unmoving. Let them beat the tar out of him—he wasn’t going to participate in treason.

  Juan kicked him, a warm-up to the ugly finale. “Get up!”

  Nina bent beside him. “I know where she’s camped. You get up, or I’ll go back and shoot her. If she lived through the jump.”

  Gerard met Nina’s gaze with cool eyes. “You’re better off shooting me now, because I’m not flying you anywhere.”

  “Okay, I’m leaving. Here’s the transmitter.” Nina reached int
o her pocket, pulled out a small black remote, and handed it to Juan. “Good luck.” She turned, walking away from them.

  Gerard watched her go. She didn’t look back, just kept walking.

  The vision of Andee, a bullet in her head, bleeding out on the tundra grass made him cry out. “Stop! Okay. I’ll . . . let’s go.” He’d get them in the plane and take it down. Before they blew the pipeline.

  I’m sorry, Andee. But it seemed that his entire life had been leading up to this event. In the darkest places inside him, he knew there’d be no happy ending for him and his family.

  He should have let go of that dream a decade ago.

  Gerard climbed to his knees, his feet, suddenly feeling exhausted.

  Constantine smiled as if to say, “See, a little motivation and everyone gets along just fine.”

  Gerard fought the urge to rush him, finish it. But if he failed, they could still reach Andee. He’d wait until they were at two thousand feet, then cut the motor. Listen to them scream. In the end, Mary’s prediction would be half true—he alone would die in a fiery crash.

  They hiked in silence, time weighing upon them like the press of cold against his ears. He could already make out Dalton Highway and the white hull of his Cessna 185 four-seater on the road. Constantine had forced him to land here, the closest entry point to Nina’s GPS signal. Constantine had been nearly crazy with demands and threats after they’d spotted their contact last night on the ridge, using a mirror against the fading light. Juan’s climbing abilities took a swipe at Gerard’s confidence when the man constructed the rope bridge. He half wished he hadn’t taught Andee how to climb.

  Constantine walked behind him and prodded Gerard with his gun. Pain spiked up his spine. “Do you think she’ll remember you as a hero?”

  Gerard said nothing. He wasn’t sure what Andee would write on his tombstone. At the least, his death would free her from this obligation she felt to spend her summers in Alaska. Even he, as thickheaded as Mary sometimes accused him of being, saw his daughter’s desperate attempts to regain everything they had lost. Everything he’d sacrificed. It pained him to know how much he looked forward to her efforts.