by Addison Fox
Mick held the plane as steady as he could while wind shears buffeted them like a ship at sea. Another round of animalistic cries of pain assaulted him as the two scientists in the back of the plane tried to comfort their friend.
What the hell were these guys doing up there?
He’d heard mumbled, incoherent words about research, but to his way of thinking, it was a suicide mission to attempt to do anything for any extended period of time on the bitch in fucking December.
She didn’t tolerate it.
And the guy fighting for his life in the back of his plane was yet further proof of that simple fact.
Maggie’s voice echoed in his headset—harsh and demanding, her authority unyielding.
Damn, but it felt good to hear her voice.
She might be a pain in the ass, but the woman knew how to manage in a crisis.
“You’re fifteen minutes out, Mick. Care Flight’s on the ground here and ready for you.”
“You cleared everyone else out of there?”
“Damn straight. Runway’s all yours. How bad is he?”
Mick tuned in to the noise behind him, heard the heavy thrashing and cries, and whispered, “Not good.”
“Leg’s bad? Severed?”
“Yes, and the femoral’s hit, too.”
“How are the friends handling it?”
Mick risked a quick glance over his shoulder. The friends traveling with the guy were in bad shape, but they were managing. And most important, they’d acted immediately, which was the single biggest factor giving their friend a fighting chance.
“Holding on.” With a quick glance at his instruments, he added, “Wind’s a fucking bitch tonight.”
“Storm’s kicking up.” Mick wondered if the Care Flight guys would be able to move the man to Anchorage but held his question. The cabin was too closed in to risk being overheard. “Do they have a plan B?”
“Doc Cloud’s here helping them set up a unit in the lobby just in case.”
Mick held the plane as steady as he could as another wind shear struck his flank, but the staggering course was enough to elicit more agonized cries from the back. “I think they’re going to need it.”
Maggie let out a soft sigh before switching back to all business. “All right, cowboy, bring it in. We’re waiting for you.”
Fighting another set of wind buffets that nearly had them shifting sideways, Mick navigated his way through dense cloud cover. With a quick flip, he turned on the mike and barked out orders. “I’m breaking about fifteen laws not asking you to buckle up, but I need you guys to get as close to him as you can. Keep the pressure on his leg and don’t let up. This is going to be rough on the way down.”
He heard the muttered agreements, trusted that they understood the gravity of the situation and fought the wind.
Mick knew he had a reputation as being one of Alaska’s best pilots. He knew and trusted his equipment. And he knew and trusted his instincts.
As the lights of Indigo came into view, he prayed like hell he’d gotten to this guy in time.
Sloan could see the whirling sirens on the ground, lighting up the small airport in bright red and blue hues. Jack had two doctors on board to add support to a Care Flight team already on-site. No one had spoken on the flight back and the airsickness that had bothered her on the way down had seemed to fade in the face of the tension gripping all of them.
Her stomach didn’t feel great, but she wasn’t afraid she’d lose whatever she’d had for dinner.
Sadly, there was something far bigger to focus on.
She’d heard a murmured conversation between Jack and the doctors and had pieced together the basic facts. Three research scientists, doing something on the side of Denali. An equipment failure coupled with a fall off the side of a cliff and one of the researchers was in very bad shape.
The plane pitched hard to the right as Jack muttered an “oh shit” from the front of the cabin. Walker turned to give her a small smile as he reached for her hand.
“You okay?”
“Hanging in. I’m not nearly as bad as some others right now.”
“No.” Walker nodded. “I suppose not.”
“It’s bad out there.”
“It’s not great. It’s probably a good thing we got out earlier than we’d planned to or we’d be spending the night in Anchorage until the storm blew through.”
She squelched the image of how he most likely spent his evenings in Anchorage. It wasn’t her business. How he spent his time—in the past or in the future—didn’t have anything to do with her.
Even as she thought it, she knew she was lying to herself. Something she made a policy to never do. With a start, Sloan glanced down to where their fingers twined together, his large hand dwarfing hers.
Comfort.
It meant something. He meant something. Even if in the long run, they weren’t to be.
And that’s why the idea of how Walker Montgomery spent his free evenings in Anchorage did matter.
With a mental shake of her head, Sloan admonished herself to get it together. She had a home to go back to and she hadn’t come up here looking for a fling with someone she’d never see again.
Walker squeezed her hand when the plane did a hard bank to the right as Jack came in for a landing. His touch reassured, calming her nerves as another panicky wave threatened to grip her.
As she squeezed back, Sloan had to acknowledge the truth.
Even if it had been her intention to simply come on this trip to support her friend, it had turned into so much more.
Because she had met Walker.
The next hour passed in a blur. The intimate moment she and Walker had shared in the cocoonlike warmth of Jack’s plane came to an abrupt end as they arrived at the airport.
Walker was pulled away immediately by his grandmother, her role as mayor ensuring she’d been called the moment something happened. Although she hated the reason, Sloan was grateful for some time apart. Her resolve weakened when she was with Walker. It was time to collect herself and all the wayward thoughts that had taken up residence in her mind and wouldn’t let go.
From where she stood in an out-of-the-way corner, Sloan saw Dr. Cloud assisting the Care Flight team while the doctors Jack ferried cleaned up. Whatever shortcomings she might have expected in the form of medical care in this remote place was quickly banished as she watched a highly competent team of people work to save a life.
The man who’d been brought in off of Mick’s plane was being managed in a makeshift triage unit. Despite Dr Cloud’s age, which she put at about seventy, he moved in tandem with the staff, stepping in where needed, moving back when someone had to take over. Every member of the medical team moved with purpose and confidence.
A medical helicopter sat on the runway, but she wondered how it would ever take off. The snow that had started in Anchorage had followed them north and what had been a pleasant winter wonderland was rapidly turning into a bad storm.
“So this is Alaska,” she murmured to herself as the white flakes came down with increasing speed.
“That it is.”
She turned to see Mick move in next to her, his hand pressed to the window as he stared out at the runway. “They’re never taking off in this.”
“But he needs help. They can’t stay here.”
“They can’t risk going up, either.”
Her gaze shot back toward the doctors as they fought to save the man’s life in the middle of an airport terminal. “Does this happen often?”
“Often enough.” He shrugged, the half-drunk cup of coffee in his hand sloshing with his movements. “About every year or so. Less if we’re lucky. Denali asks for a steep price from some.”
She wondered at his words, especially knowing a good portion of his business was tied to landing on the mountain with tour groups, but held her tongue. It didn’t take much to see the rescue had taken its toll and he was hanging on by a very thin thread. His blue eyes looked overly bright, his normally
tan skin unnaturally pale.
Sloan knew there were any number of flaws with her upbringing, but perfect social skills wasn’t one of them. Couple that with an innate gift for small talk and she could usually diffuse most difficult situations. “You’ve lived here your whole life?”
“Born and raised.”
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like somewhere else?”
He shrugged, but Sloan was pleased to see his hand was steadier when he did. “I get out of here from time to time. Nothing ever caught my fancy well enough not to come back.”
“I’ve always felt that way about New York.” Had always felt, she mentally corrected herself.
“Do you miss it?”
“Not as much as I thought I would. Besides, it’s way more important to be here for Grier. New York’s not going anywhere.”
Mick hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words. Before she could wonder too long at it, he rubbed a hand over the rough stubble on his face. “She’ll go back once this is all settled. All this stuff with Jonas’s house and all.”
“I guess.”
“Shame.”
“What?”
Mick shook his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
A loud shout went up before Sloan could say anything in response. She whirled in the direction of where the doctors were working, but she knew immediately what had caused the noise.
The man Mick brought off the mountain hadn’t survived.
Chapter Fourteen
If the night of her arrival was the height of revelry, this evening was its somber opposite. Sloan allowed her gaze to roam around the Jitters—the large coffeehouse that sat at the end of Main Street next to the Indigo Blue—overcome by a wave of sadness. She had gotten to know the residents of this quirky town and felt their collective grief as her own.
Although they were a far smaller crowd than had filled the Indigo’s lobby after the town hall, there were enough people assembled to sit in a strange sort of memorial for the fallen researcher no one actually knew personally. People kept their voices low, engaged in the reassuring camaraderie of having others nearby.
Again, Sloan found herself awed by these hearty people and the life they’d built up here. In a harsh, unforgiving climate there was a close-knit community of people who cared about one another. Shared with one another. Comforted one another.
Even when the tragedy involved a total stranger.
Walker had stayed behind at the airport with his grandmother, so Sloan had gotten a ride back with Mick. He’d disappeared shortly after depositing her at the coffeehouse and she now sat in a small circle with Grier and Avery.
“Did you enjoy Anchorage, at least?” Avery reached for the foamy latte that sat on the small table between them.
“It was interesting.”
“Oh?” Grier’s eyebrows rose as she reached for an oversized cup full of mocha. “That’s a loaded answer.”
“Let’s just say it was a loaded afternoon.”
At the twin stares, she quickly caught them up on what had happened at dinner and the subsequent flight home.
“Victoria’s got a bad reputation even up here in Indigo,” Avery offered. “None of us could figure out what he saw in her.”
“I have a pretty good guess,” Sloan added dryly.
“Saw, Sloan. Past tense. He hasn’t run with her in a long time.”
“Define long.”
“Months. Since well before the summer.”
Sloan shook her head. “Like it matters.”
“It does matter,” Grier added in a show of solidarity.
“You were on a date with him and the two of you were intruded upon.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
Grier’s sole response was a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, don’t give me the eye.” Sloan waved a hand at Grier, which her cheeky friend immediately reached out and grabbed, linking their fingers in a good, tight squeeze.
“Well, what did you go and do that for?”
And there it was again. The offer of comfort and companionship. Only this time it was the familiar comfort of more than a decade of friendship.
Hot tears pricked the backs of her eyes and Sloan dropped Grier’s hand after squeezing back. On a deep breath, she continued. “So payback’s only fair. If you can dole it out, so can I. I think you need to end the sex moratorium and jump Mick O’Shaughnessy’s bones.”
Grier’s wide smile fell. “Excuse me.”
“He’s got it as bad for you as you do for him. All anyone needs is to get in, oh, I don’t know, about a hundred feet of the two of you to see it. But tonight at the airport cemented it. That man wants you.”
A sly smile lit up Avery’s face. “Did he say something?”
“It was more what he didn’t say. I’m telling you, Grier. You need to give up the chase and spend some time with that man.”
“I’m not going there.”
“Why not?” Although her friend wasn’t one to casually fling herself from one man to another, Sloan really couldn’t see a single flaw to her plan. Especially since she’d never seen Grier this twisted over a guy. Not even her ex-fiancé.
Grier shook her head no, but her eyes gleamed with a bright yes. “That way lies madness.”
“Going without it lies the way to madness, too,” Avery suggested helpfully.
Sloan clinked mugs with her. “So very true.”
“I’m not sleeping with Mick.”
“You might think that tone is full of conviction, Grier Thompson, but I hear the cracks.”
“Some best friend you are.” Grier punctuated the comment with a small pout. “You’re supposed to be supporting me from making bad decisions.”
Sloan wasn’t sure when the devil on her shoulder had landed, but now that it had, she couldn’t resist offering a not-so-innocent push. “From where I’m sitting, it’s not only a good decision, it’s fucking inspired. Besides, you know it would be fun. And he seems like a really great guy.”
“The best. And,” Avery added, “he’s at the hotel right now.”
“What’s he doing there?” Sloan had assumed he was heading home after dropping her off.
“I sent him into the sauna to warm up before I walked over here.”
“See,” Sloan turned toward Grier as she kept pushing her point. “It’s a great idea. And he’s all alone.”
“No, it’s probably not a great idea.” Grier’s smile fell as a soft, faraway look took over her misty gray eyes. “But I’m quite sure it would be an incredible ride.”
Walker deftly avoided glancing at the far corner of the terminal as he took a seat next to his grandmother. With gentle movements, he touched Sophie’s arm to get her attention.
“Are you all right? There’s really nothing else to be done here. We should be going. Jack left the car running so it could warm up.”
“It’s just terribly sad, Walker. So very, very sad. A young life lost, others which will bear the scars of this day for the rest of their lives.”
He glanced out the window of the small lobby to where the snow continued to fall in heavy flakes on the landing strip, his grandmother’s words ringing in his ears like alarm bells.
He knew about scars. Knew about the days that changed your life and actions you couldn’t take back.
Choices you couldn’t take back.
“Come on. If we wait too much longer we’re going to have a hard time getting home. We probably should have left an hour ago.”
“That young man’s family needed to know what happened.”
“You could have called them in the morning. Or from home.”
She shrugged and for the first time he noticed just how her age had started to catch up with her. Although Sophie Montgomery had a wonderful spirit and a commanding presence, he had to admit she was showing the strains of her age.
And she wouldn’t be with them forever.
“I wanted to make sure they could ask questions of the doctor if they had any.”
“So you did what needed to be done. His family’s been called, the doctors have done what they can and the sheriff’s taken care of the other researchers. There’s nothing else to do here.”
His grandmother sighed and took the arm he offered, allowing him to walk her toward the exit. Jack had waited for them with his big SUV, which was why Walker had given Sophie the extra time she needed. Jack’s Yukon might not be foolproof against a bad storm, but knowing they had a ride in the big boat had allowed them some breathing room to deal with the evening’s events before the driving conditions got too bad.
What an evening.
The day replayed in his mind as they walked out into the cold night air.
Sloan.
Why couldn’t he get her out of his head? It was as if she filled his thoughts until there wasn’t room for anything else.
After settling his grandmother into the backseat, Walker climbed in next to her, surprised when she reached for his hand.
“Do you understand why I push you so much? About getting married and having a family?”
“Actually, I think ‘harass’ might be a better word. ‘Harangue.’ ‘Badger.’”
He was surprised when his teasing words failed to elicit even a small smile. Instead, she simply squeezed his hand harder as tears spilled down her paper-thin cheeks. “I don’t do it to badger you or make you mad. I do it because I hate the idea of you being alone.”
She pointed toward the airport. “That young man in there. He’ll never have a family. Or know the love of a spouse or the joy of children. He’ll never see the future or share it with someone. Life is too short, Walker. Much too short. I miss your grandfather every day, but I had so many years. Wonderful years together. I want that for you.”
His throat grew tight and he didn’t know quite how to respond to her earnest pleading. He couldn’t change who he was any more than he could change what had shaped him.
“It’s not that easy, Grandmother. Besides, that life’s not for everyone.”
“And you think you’re one of those not suited to marriage?”