Under Fire

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Under Fire Page 23

by Beth Cornelison


  “Daddy?”

  The emotions he’d been fighting rushed to the surface at the sound of Emily’s sweet voice. “Emily, baby, are you o-okay?”

  He noticed on some level that the sheriff kept his eyes fixed on the road, giving him as much privacy as possible, yet the man couldn’t have missed the way Jackson’s voice cracked.

  “I will be. My asthma’s acting up. And the scratches where the mountain lion clawed me kinda hurt.”

  Ice filled his veins. “Mountain lion!”

  “Yeah! Birdman saved me.”

  Jackson squeezed his eyes shut, dragged a hand down his face. Nausea churned in his gut.

  Lauren came back on the radio with a nervous laugh. “Jackson, I know what you’re thinking. Take it easy. She really is going to be fine. I swear.”

  He took a deep breath to steady his voice. “Let me talk to her again.”

  Angling his body more toward the passenger window, Jackson waited for Emily’s reply.

  “I’m here, Daddy.”

  “I’m coming to get you. Hang in there. I…I love you, Emily. I love you so much.”

  “I love you back.”

  In the seconds it took him to gather his composure, Lauren came back on the radio. “Jackson, listen. We’ve got to get Boomer to the hospital ASAP. He’s not doing well. Can you meet us at the hospital in Idaho Falls?”

  Billows was already pulling onto the shoulder, turning his car around. The sheriff mashed the gas pedal and flipped on his blue lights.

  “I’m on my way,” Jackson told her.

  Chapter Twenty

  A team of doctors met the search and rescue helicopter at the hospital in Idaho Falls. Lauren gave Boomer’s pale cheek a kiss before he was rushed into triage.

  Despite his contention he was fine, Whitefeather was given a full medical check, and other than minor burns and bruises, he was declared fit and released.

  Meanwhile, Lauren accompanied Emily to the emergency room where the girl was given oxygen, intravenous fluids, a shot of prednisone and breathing treatments for her asthma. While the girl dutifully sucked the medicated mist into her lungs, Lauren held Emily’s hand, regaling Jackson’s daughter with humorous stories about Birdman and Boomer. The scratches on Emily’s back from the mountain lion’s claws were also recleaned and bandaged.

  Once the emergency room doctor was satisfied with Emily’s condition, a nurse helped Jackson’s daughter bathe and put on a clean hospital gown.

  “She’ll need to stay overnight for observation and more breathing treatments,” the doctor told Lauren as he scribbled a prescription for an antibiotic to prevent the cougar scratches from becoming infected. “But she’s going to be fine.”

  Lauren sighed with relief. She couldn’t wait to tell Jackson the good news. “What about Jake Randolf, the man they brought in with the gunshot wound in his leg? Can you tell me anything about him?”

  A nurse standing nearby spoke up. “They took him into surgery a little while ago. They should have some news soon.”

  Nodding to the doctor, Lauren worked to hide her worry over Boomer for Emily’s sake.

  “You’re finished here,” the doctor said to Emily and tweaked her lightly on the chin. “The nurse will help you up to your room. You can watch TV up there or nap. Whatever you want. Just take it easy, okay?”

  Emily furrowed her brow, a serious gesture so reminiscent of her father that Lauren felt a twinge deep in her chest.

  The girl took Lauren’s hand and squeezed, then raised troubled eyes. “I want to stay with you and Birdman.”

  Lauren slid an arm around the child’s shoulders and patted her arm. “Can she sit with us outside the operating room while we wait for news on our friend’s surgery?”

  The doctor ripped the prescription from his pad and handed it to Lauren. “Sure. Just keep her calm. If she gets tired or wheezy again, she should go up to her room.”

  She turned to Emily. “Sound good to you?”

  With a wan smile, Emily sidled closer to Lauren. Lauren’s heart broke for the girl. She’d been through so much trauma. “All right. It’s a deal.”

  “When will my dad get here?”

  Pulling away from their hug, Lauren took Emily’s hand and started down the hall to the elevator. “Well, Redmont, where your dad was, is about two hours or so from here. He should be here in the next hour or so.”

  They stepped on the elevator and rode up to the next floor. On their way to the waiting area, they passed a vending machine that Emily eyed wistfully.

  “You hungry, sweetie?” Lauren asked. “I think I can scrounge up some change somewhere if you want something to eat.”

  Emily peered up, scrunching her nose and hesitating. “Well…kinda.”

  Lauren grinned. “I know I’m starved. Let’s see if Birdman’s good for any cash, huh?”

  The corner of Emily’s mouth tugged up. “Okay.”

  As they wandered down the hall, looking for the waiting room, Emily cast another shy glance up to Lauren. “You’re the one who went with my dad to get help. You hiked down the mountain with him.”

  A statement, not a question.

  “Yeah, I did. Birdman told you that?”

  Emily nodded. Her steps slowed, and when she glanced up again, her expression said she had something on her mind but was reluctant to speak.

  Lauren tugged Jackson’s daughter out of the main flow of traffic in the hall and squatted beside her. “What is it, Emily? Is something wrong?”

  The girl’s dark eyes searched hers. “You took care of my dad, like Cara and Birdman took care of me.”

  Lauren didn’t ask who Cara was. She could only assume she was one of the kidnappers, probably the female suspect they’d heard had been shot. Lauren considered her reply carefully. She knew little about children but wanted desperately to say and do the right things for Emily’s peace of mind. “Your dad and I…we sort of took care of each other. Your dad’s a brave man. He’d do anything, anything in the world, for you.”

  Emily seemed to consider this for a minute then said, “Daddy doesn’t like camping, doesn’t do outdoor stuff like hiking much.”

  Lauren grinned. “Well, he did all right with me. I don’t guess he liked much of it, but we did what we had to in order to get to the police.”

  After another insightful look, a speculative tip of her head, Emily said, “I bet you helped him a lot. He didn’t have anything with him. No food or a tent or a compass. He gets lost sometimes when we’re driving and won’t ask for directions. Mom used to hate that. You must have had a good map.”

  Lauren chuckled. The child had obviously spent as much time worrying about her father as he had spent worrying about her. She pulled Emily close and stroked her ruffled hair. “What matters is that we made it. We’re okay now and so are you.”

  When she pushed Emily back to arm’s length, she was startled to see tears in the girl’s eyes, her bottom lip trembling.

  Lauren frowned. “Emily?”

  “Cara’s not okay. Montego shot her. And Boomer was hurt. His leg—”

  Lauren crushed Emily to her chest, her heart wrenching. “Oh, honey, I know. Boomer’s going to be okay, though. The doctors will patch him up. He’s strong. Really strong. And he’ll pull through fine. Just you wait and see.”

  Platitudes. Empty promises. God, she hated them, but they were all she had for the little girl. All she had for herself. She didn’t know if Boomer would make it. What if he didn’t?

  And this Cara whom Emily mentioned again. What did she tell the child about that situation? Where was Jackson when she needed him? She wanted his guidance answering questions and comforting his daughter. The doctor had instructed Lauren to keep the girl calm, but she was out of her league here.

  “Let’s go find Birdman, okay?” she said, still hugging Emily tightly.

  “Okay.” Emily sniffed and wiped her face.

  Around the next corner, they found the small grouping of chairs and the television that comprised th
e waiting area for the surgery ward. Whitefeather sat in one of the formed-plastic seats with his legs splayed, his elbows on his knees and his head down. He had his fingers thrust into his long black hair, and he kneaded the back of his neck, the image of dejection and fatigue.

  Lauren stilled. Her chest contracted with dread.

  Boomer.

  Oh God, had Birdman heard something already? Something bad?

  Emily spotted Whitefeather and pulled her hand free of Lauren’s grasp to run to him. “Birdman!”

  His head came up, and he gave Jackson’s daughter a smile that looked pasted on. Over Emily’s head, as the girl threw herself against him for a hug, Whitefeather met Lauren’s eyes. His gaze was tired, bloodshot, full of fear. Very unlike the warrior smokejumper she knew.

  “What?” Lauren mouthed. “Boomer?”

  A muscle jumped in Whitefeather’s jaw. “He coded. Flat lined,” Birdman said in a voice barely more than a whisper.

  Lauren clapped a hand to her mouth, sure she was going to vomit. Or pass out or something equally weak and pathetic.

  Quickly, Whitefeather raised a hand. “They got him back. Shocked him. But it’s still touch and go. He’s in recovery. In ICU.” He sighed. “Sorry. I should have told you that first. I shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

  Knees still shaking, Lauren sank into the chair next to Birdman. “Darn right, you shouldn’t have.”

  Emily lifted her head, her brow knit in consternation. “Is Boomer all right?”

  Whitefeather nodded. “For now. He’s out of surgery and resting. How about you? The docs take care of that asthma for you?”

  “Uh-huh.” She smiled and took a deep, clear breath to demonstrate. “Birdman, do you have any money? Lauren and I want something out of the snack machine.”

  Whitefeather chuckled. “Money? Is that all you women ever think about?” He flashed a teasing grin as he dug in his pocket. “Seems all women want to do is spend my money.”

  Lauren rocked sideways to jostle Whitefeather with her shoulder. “Sounds to me like you’re dating the wrong women, dude.”

  He pulled out a couple bills and some change. “How much do you need, little one?”

  Emily shrugged. “I want some Doritos and a Coke.”

  He handed her the whole wad in his hand. “Bring me back a Coke too.” He looked at Lauren. “And you?”

  “I think I saw a Snickers in there. I’ll split it with you,” she told Emily.

  Emily clutched the money in her hands and nodded.

  Lauren tipped her head toward the vending machines. “You go on. I’ll catch up.”

  Emily hesitated, her expression nervous.

  Lauren stroked her cheek. “I’m coming. I promise. I’ll be there as soon as I ask Birdman something.”

  With that reassurance, Emily headed back down the hall.

  “What’s up?” Birdman asked as soon as Emily was out of range.

  “What do you know about a woman named Cara? Emily seems terribly upset about this woman being shot. Was she one of the terrorists? Is she dead? What did Emily tell you about her?”

  “I think she’s here. At this hospital.”

  “Here?”

  “I heard through the nurses’ grapevine that the FBI brought her and another guy who’d been shot in the leg here about an hour ago under heavy guard.”

  “Emily said this woman took care of her.”

  Birdman nodded. “That child’s been through hell. Seen God knows what violence. She had a nightmare about Cara getting shot. About blood.” He shook his head and huffed. “McKay’s gonna need to get her help. Counseling. She could easily have post-traumatic stress from all this.”

  Lauren nodded. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

  As she shoved out of her chair to find Emily, Whitefeather stopped her. “About you and McKay…”

  The look in Birdman’s eyes told her where he was headed, and Lauren’s pulse fluttered. She squared her shoulders. “Yeah?”

  “Well, it’s just you get kinda moose-eyed when his name’s mentioned.”

  “I do not!” Yikes! Were her feelings for Jackson that obvious?

  Birdman laughed. “Yeah, you do. And you were alone with him for two days…and two nights.”

  Lauren set her jaw and arched an eyebrow.

  “Anything you want to tell me?” Birdman asked.

  She gave him a buzz-off scowl and pivoted on her toe toward the hall. “Nope. Not a thing.”

  “Yeah, right,” he called as she sauntered off, her chin high.

  She helped Emily carry back their snack, and the three ate their makeshift lunch while nurses and orderlies milled up and down the long corridor tending to business.

  Even with the dose of sugar and caffeine in her system, Emily’s eyes soon drooped, and she yawned loudly.

  “Maybe we should head up to your room so you can nap,” Lauren suggested.

  Emily’s eyes widened. “No! I’m okay. Really. Please let me stay with you!” The girl turned to Whitefeather. “Please, Birdman?”

  Whitefeather consulted Lauren with an inquiring glance then pulled Emily onto his lap. With a large hand at the girl’s nape, he coaxed her to lean against his chest and lay her head on his shoulder. “You can stay if you promise to rest. Okay?”

  Emily angled her body against Birdman and closed her eyes. “I promise.”

  Lauren gave Whitefeather a knowing grin. “You ole softie. I knew inside you were nothing but marshmallow.”

  His cheeks pinkened, and he fell silent for a moment. “I have another shoulder if you want to catch a few winks.”

  Catch-a-Wink. Whitefeather’s choice of words brought back vivid reminders of why she’d had so little sleep last night.

  A heady thrill spiraled through her. Jackson was on his way here. She’d see him again. Touch him again. They might even find a few moments alone to—

  Lauren rolled her shoulders to cover her little shudder of anticipation.

  Don’t go there. Nothing’s changed. They still had very different lives, different needs. He still needed to grieve and let go of his wife. Something unspoken still stood between them, something that held him back, something that shadowed his eyes when she talked about her work. She had a good idea what bothered him, even if he didn’t put it in words. He couldn’t accept her job as a smokejumper. He didn’t appreciate her abilities or understand her love of what she did, what it meant to her, even though she’d tried so many times to explain it to him.

  She wouldn’t settle. She needed Jackson without conditions, without reservations or not at all. The next step was up to him.

  Lauren expelled a heavy sigh.

  “Want to talk about it?” Birdman asked.

  She turned sideways in her chair and tucked her feet under her. “Naw. But I’ll take that shoulder.”

  Whitefeather put his hand on her cheek and pulled her head down. “Sleep. I’ll wake you if there’s any news.”

  She must have dozed because the next thing Lauren was aware of was a kink in her neck and loud voice echoing down the hospital corridor. A deep voice. Jackson’s voice.

  “Emily!”

  Lauren turned and spotted Jackson at the far end of the hall, jogging toward them.

  “Daddy!” Emily jumped off Whitefeather’s lap and dashed down the corridor to meet her father.

  Lauren, too, started toward Jackson, happier than she had any right over seeing him again.

  When Emily reached her father, she leaped into his arms, and Jackson hugged her as if he might never let go.

  Lauren smiled, touched by the father and daughter reunion.

  Mission accomplished.

  Then Jackson’s face crumpled.

  Lauren’s steps faltered. She stopped in her tracks, her heart in her throat.

  As he clung to his child, the man whom she’d accused of burying his emotions following his wife’s death, the man who’d held himself so tightly in check this morning when they’d said goodbye, the man who’d sho
wn such restraint and control throughout their ordeal…was crying. Openly. Deep, heaving, gut-wrenching sobs.

  Lauren stared. Frozen.

  Jackson’s tears flayed her emotions and ripped at her soul. For several moments, she watched them, absorbing his shattering pain and joy as if it were her own. She retreated a few steps, giving them more privacy, but when she moved, Jackson raised his head. He met Lauren’s gaze and wiped his face on his shoulder. Carrying Emily, he walked toward Lauren, pulled his left arm out of the sling and motioned her closer.

  With her heart doing a crazy dance, Lauren stepped into his embrace. He pulled her close, snuggled her right next to his daughter in the circle of his arms. As if she belonged there. A part of this family.

  “Hi,” he whispered.

  She tipped her chin up and grinned at him with damp eyes. “Hi, yourself.”

  He squeezed tighter, rubbed her back, then captured the back of her head in his palm. And kissed her. In front of his daughter. In front of Whitefeather and the whole hospital staff.

  He kissed her with a hunger and passion that curled her toes. With a tenderness and affection that made her heart ache. And with just enough promise in his eyes to make her wish for a few moments alone with him.

  “Thank you,” he murmured against her mouth, “For bringing my daughter back to me.”

  “It was Birdman really. And the SAR guy from—”

  He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip, and she forgot what she was saying.

  His dark eyes pierced hers. “You know what I mean.”

  Another tear slipped free and rolled down his cheek. Lauren sucked it off his skin with a light kiss then buried her face in his chest and tightened her arms around him and Emily.

  They stood in the busy hospital corridor for countless minutes, just holding each other, giving thanks that they were alive and together again.

  “Well, well, Mike. Guess I know the answer to my earlier question, hmm?” Birdman said behind her.

  She twisted in Jackson’s embrace to look over her shoulder and sent Whitefeather a sheepish grin. “Guess so.”

  Jackson wiped his face again then regarded the other smokejumper. “I don’t have the whole story yet, but I’m hearing that I owe you for saving my daughter’s life.”

 

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