Rosita looked down and Julie could see the woman fight to pull herself back from the pain of the memory. “He was a good man. Always had a bright smile. Loved life.” Her brows pinched together, marring her otherwise serene features. “With all the bad people in the world, it makes you wonder why God would need to take one of the good ones home.”
“And his family?” Julie asked.
Rosita smiled, a genuine light filling her eyes. “Conner and his mother live with me now. It is a blessing to see the little boy each day who reminds me so much of his father.”
Julie regarded the woman, admiring her strength. She thought of her own experience. The emotional and later the physical abuse Louis had displayed. He’d never touched the boys, but if he had, Julie was fairly certain it’d be her sitting in a prison cell right now. “I’m surprised you’re still able to work around all of this.”
Rosita shrugged. “To be honest, I wasn’t certain I could. I took some time away, of course. Then I realized that Pete, the other guys, their wives and children…we’re all family. I feel closer to my son here than I do anywhere else.”
Julie nodded. “I can’t imagine what it’s like, Rosita, but I know this—right now, it feels as though someone has taken my breath away. Until I know Kyle is safe, I can’t breathe right.”
She nodded. “They’ll find them. Pete’s the best there is. And he has nothing but good things to say about Hank,” Rosita said. “How’d you and Hank meet?” she asked.
Julie blinked, pulling from the fear that threatened to paralyze her at times, especially when she was under stress. She struggled to organize her thoughts. “He and my brother were friends in college.” She looked at the woman across from her, a woman who had every right to be bitter, angry. And yet she was asking about Julie, making conversation and trying to stay positive. “They’re still friends,” she said, smiling at the realization of the solidarity of the friendship. Louis had forbidden her to become involved, or to make friends. The boys hadn’t been allowed to have friends over to the house. He’d kept her to a tight schedule on the home front. In retrospect, what she regretted most was how her kids had suffered through her blindness.
“You mentioned earlier that your other son was with your brother. Do you live in the same town?” Rosita took a sip of her tea and grimaced. “Cold, yuck.”
Julie spotted a pot of water warming at the coffee station. She held her hand out for Rosita’s cup. “May I warm that up?”
The woman grinned. “You’ve had some practice waitressing, I see.”
Julie nodded as she poured. “I do the books for the diner and bakery in End of the Line. Now and again, I fill in when someone is sick or can’t get in due to the snow.”
“So, you and Hank are settled in End of the Line, then?” She nodded her thanks and dipped her tea bag in the water.
“It’s complicated,” she said, returning the pot. “And honestly, it’s a boring story.”
“Boring? Honey, this man is flying into God knows what to get your son. It doesn’t sound too boring to me.”
Julie sat down and folded her hands in front of her. “We just got engaged. Less than a month ago, actually.”
“Well, that calls for congratulations.” Rosita lifted her mug in salute. “When’s the date?”
“The date?” Julie’s mind was still working on her first question—meeting Hank.
***
She’d stood looking down at him as they prepped Hank to load him into the ambulance. In the flurry of the rescue, Louis had fired a shot meant for her. Hank had intervened and was hit just above the shoulder. The bullet nicked his clavicle bone, but thankfully had missed anything vital.
Hank had taken her hand and tried to smile through the pain. “I’ll check in with you and the boys when they clear me to go.”
She’d glanced over at her brother. She remembered Hank from the time she’d gone to watch Clay play football. He’d been a sweet guide and protector on campus—a duty he’d confessed to not having looked forward to at the time, but would later tell her that he believed had been fate.
“Okay, there, Captain America. I’m here, too, remember?” Clay had said, smiling at his friend. “We’ll discuss later what I meant when I said ‘stick to the plan,’ okay, buddy?”
She’d stood in stoic silence watching the array of squad cars and emergency personnel drive away. Curious neighbors had filtered outside to watch the drama unfold, the dark secrets of their “perfect” family revealed to all.
“Jules?”
She’d heard her brother’s voice and felt her children’s arms grip her tightly around the waist. Reality slammed into her and her knees buckled. Clay caught her, wrapping his arms around the three of them. “He won’t hurt you guys ever again,” Clay had said with quiet assurance.
Later that night after visiting Hank, relieved to know his injury wouldn’t leave any residual physical damage, she’d remembered how kind he’d been to her. But hindsight was twenty-twenty. In college, she’d been infatuated with a promising young lawyer by the name of Louis Williams. Hank simply hadn’t been her type. She marveled now at how blind she’d been.
Clay had pitched moving to Montana over coffee the next morning. “I think it’d be a good idea for you and the boys to move to End of the Line for a while,” Clay had said. “The boys are going to need family, and the Last Hope Ranch is an ideal place to recuperate from all you guys have been through. Plenty of fresh air and working with the horses did wonders for me.”
It hadn’t taken much to convince her. She’d needed to be as far away from Louis as possible. She needed to make a new life for herself and the boys. She needed to be around family, and her boys would benefit from the same.
Little had she known how things would quickly change between her and Hank.
***
Julie blinked from her reverie. “We haven’t had time to set a date yet.” She glanced briefly away, then met Rosita’s’ steady gaze. Okay, it wasn’t the complete truth, but she wasn’t prepared to delve into the topic. Her thoughts were truly well muddled.
The woman held her gaze a moment and then went back to her laptop.
Taking the opportunity to find some time alone, she walked to the other end of the long room that looked over the parking lot and emergency entrance. Neon signs and street lamps had begun to pop on in the wake of the dusky, overcast skies. She thought of Kyle, wondering where he was, praying he was safe, praying he and the other boys would soon be found.
She glanced up at the sprinkling of stars and thought of Hank, of the argument they’d had before he left, the passion they’d shared…she smiled thinking of the moment when everything had changed between them.
***
They’d gone to Dusty’s to celebrate three months of living in End of the Line. They’d agreed it wasn’t a real date, just two friends sharing a couple of drinks. The shift had occurred when he’d asked her to dance. She’d refused at first, but in light of his persistence, she had finally surrendered.
He’d worn a blue plaid cowboy shirt that brought out the deep brown of his eyes. His cologne mingled with the heat from his body, an aphrodisiac for a woman craving the proper attention of a man. He’d held her close, swaying to the music, wrapping his fingers around hers. When she looked into his eyes, she saw that he, too, knew how well they would fit together.
All night, he’d been a gentleman—opening doors, asking how she and the boys were doing, then guiding her back to the booth, his hand resting softly on the small of her back. Being cared for in even such small ways was foreign to her, yet a balm to her bruised heart.
In retrospect, she’d admitted, as he had later, that the beer consumption had likely influenced the night, allowing the walls to come down. But neither had anticipated—at least, Julie hadn’t—what would happen when he took her hand and led her to his truck.
It had been an explosion of pent-up desire. His kisses all but drowned her, pulling her under, making her never want to come up for air.
; “The bakery,” she’d managed to get out between hungry kisses—kisses that had made her want to throw all inhibitions aside.
The enclosed narrow stairway off the alley made it difficult to steal another kiss without stopping periodically. When at last they made it to the door, she turned and faced him. “There aren’t any lights,” she said. “The city inspector shut off the electricity.”
He searched her eyes. “We don’t need lights, darlin’.” He kissed her again, causing her head to spin.
“Only an old twin mattress,” she whispered, breathless from the overwhelming need rising inside her.
“Are we trespassing?” he asked, his hands resting on her hips.
“I-I don’t know. I have the key, so technically...no?” she said.
“When does Rebecca come in to bake downstairs?” he asked, moving so close that his body pressed hers against the door.
“Around four?” she said, and her head swirled with fantasies of what it would be like with him.
“It’s two,” he said. “We can call it a night, if you want.”
She grabbed the front of his shirt. “Is that what you want?”
His response was a low, sexy chuckle. “Not by a long shot, darlin’, but what do you want?”
She wasn’t sure where this would end up in the long run—she only knew that to deny herself this one night would be wrong. She needed to be free, to release the emotions she boxed inside her all these months. She needed to feel again. She was tired of this numbness inside her, tired of being afraid to let another man touch her again.
She swallowed, relaxing her grip as she met his heated gaze. “You, Hank,” she said. “It’s just that its been so long.…” She met his eyes. “I’m afraid.”
His gaze softened and his smile warmed her to her toes. He reached up and gently brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “I don’t want you to be afraid, Julie. I want to help you feel good, sweetheart.” He kissed her softly, his lips skimming the side of her jaw. “You’re a beautiful woman, Julie—inside and out. I’ve known that for a very long time.”
She leaned her head to the side to accommodate his deliberations, closing her eyes to the delicious effects of his tender touch. Sex with Louis had never been gentle, never tender. With each pregnancy she’d hoped that he’d change and become more loving. Instead, after Chris he’d stayed later at work, took weekend meetings, and had little time for his family.
That twin mattress became Julie’s rebirth in terms of being intimate with a man. He’d loved her with a reverence she’d never known, soothing her fears, gentle with his touch, until her body thrummed with need. Then he’d shown her what it was like to touch the stars.
What was thought to be a one-night stand instead opened a door between them—one heart searching to find herself after a tumultuous marriage, the other yearning to make this woman and her boys the family he’d always dreamt of.
***
A shrill buzzing noise brought Julie back to the present and she realized the tears that stained her cheeks were a result of the fortress she’d built around her heart beginning to crumble.
She loved him.
The simple truth of it surprised and delighted her.
“That was Pete,” Rosita said, motioning for Julie to rejoin her. “He said the helicopters just dropped off the first round of Scouts at the airport, and they should be en route to the hospital by now. Parents have been notified to meet their kids here. If they are cleared by the doctors, they’re allowed to go home.” Julie realized that she’d missed that notification with her phone still back at the diner.
“Any news on Kyle?” Julie swiped away the tears her revelation had produced inside of her.
“He didn’t say. Only that they were heading out to look for the small group that had gone out earlier on an adventure,” Rosita said as she quickly collected her gear and stuffed it in her large canvas bag.
The sound of sirens accompanied by flashing lights came up the drive, splashing the room with red and blue. Julie looked out to see two medivac ambulances in tandem pulling under the ER canopy.
“Did he mention anything about Hank?” Julie asked as they hurried to the elevator that would take them downstairs.
“Only that he was waiting in the plane ready to transport,” Rosita said. “He’d be in touch when possible. “You ready?” Rosita slung the bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go see if your boy is with this group.”
Chapter Nine
Hank was glad the camp itself had been safely evacuated, but his gut told him that Kyle was likely among those who’d optioned for an adventure hike earlier in the day. He squinted into the smoky darkness, attempting to see the clearing through the haze and what little daylight was left.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find Pete leaning forward in his seat. “The abandoned airstrip is on top of that ridge. Think you can land this thing in a short distance in the dark?” his old friend asked. “We’ll rappel down the cliff. It’s getting dark and it’ll be safer than trying to parachute in.”
Hank nodded, and tipped the plane toward his destination. The area was remote. The fires blazing high on the ridge on the opposite side of the river cast an ethereal glow flickering against the shadowed canyon walls. Clearly, it was suitable only for experienced hikers and climbers.
“I’ve got the helicopters headed to the strip to bring in any injuries,” Pete said, then glanced at the man he’d assigned as Hank’s co-pilot. “Jack will stay with you.”
Pete signaled to his men and they prepared to unload the minute they landed.
Hank scanned the raging inferno on the horizon gobbling up the terrain. He had no idea of how skilled the young Scout leaders were, or if any of the boys had a lick of survival training, much less if they’d carried emergency-type equipment with them.
“That bitch looks hungry,” Jack muttered, his focus on the same sight.
Hank looked at Jack. “Is there any way to find out if this group had equipment to climb if need be?”
“Copy that, sir. I’ll see what I can find out,” Jack said.
Hank spotted the airstrip, not much more than a swathe where trees had been cleared to make a short landing strip. One end was guarded by a dense forest of pine, the other a steep drop into oblivion. Beyond, a harsh red fury appeared to be eating everything in its path. They didn’t have much time.
The strip was void except for a herd of frightened deer as Hank brought the plane down. He taxied to the end and brought the plane around in preparation for an immediate take-off. An empty communications tower stood off to one side—a dark, foreboding sentinel among the trees. He shut off the engine and stared into the dark abyss.
“Jack,” Pete ordered, “let’s set up some trip flares at the end of that runaway. Get some light out there.”
“Yes, sir,” Jack said. “I was able to patch through and spoke to the main Scout headquarters in Denver. They said one of the leaders he spoke to indicated the boys were equipped with walkie-talkies, but they’d lost contact a couple of hours ago.”
Hank stared at the smoldering horizon.
“Where was the last point of contact?” Pete asked.
Jack unfolded a map. “Not far from here. That’s Diablo Creek that we flew over coming in.”
“How long is it?” Hank asked, unbuckling from his seat.
“Runs along the canyon, probably seventy miles or so, then dumps into Crater Lake,” Pete said.
Hank glanced at him. “I don’t suppose there are any skilled climbers in that Scout group?” he asked.
Jack shook his head. “First-time Scout leaders. I’m guessing rock-climbing at the YMCA.”
“It’s possible, then, that they’d have some equipment,” Pete interjected, slapping Hank on the shoulder. “We’ll find them, Hank,” his friend said.
The plane shook as the men tossed out their packs. Like large fireflies, Hank watched as each man broke open their flares and carried their gear toward the steep ledge overlooking the c
reek canyon.
The open door ushered in the smell of heavy smoke with the wind. The stench taunted Hank’s patience. “What do we have back there?” he asked, unable to sit by quietly and wait.
Jack flipped through his clipboard. “We have first-aid kits, ropes, clamps, blankets, one sling, and one stretcher. The choppers will have better equipment and should be here any minute now.”
Hank was growing antsy, just sitting there doing nothing. “You have an ETA on those guys?”
Jack spoke into one of his walkie-talkies, then turned to Hank. “ETA fifteen minutes.”
The radio crackled and Hank heard Pete’s voice. “We found a backpack. Looks like they headed for the ridge.”
Hank stood and slapped Jack’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get those flares up on the landing strip.”
After igniting the flares, they walked back to the edge of the cliff. Below, the strip stick that had been tossed over the ridge glowed eerily in the shadows. Hank looked over at Jack. “Ask Pete to send up a flare where they found the backpack.”
Jack made the request into his walkie-talkie and they waited. A few moments later, a flare shot high into the dusky sky. Jack responded in kind.
“Maybe someone will see the flares,” Hank said, “and know people are on the ground searching for them.”
“Good idea, sir,” Jack said.
Hank looked across the canyon, seeing that the fire had come over the opposite ridge. If the winds shifted again, it could bring it racing down toward the river in a heartbeat. “How many lanterns do we have, and those giant glow-sticks?” Hank asked.
“We have a couple of power lanterns and a bag of trip sticks back in the plane,” Jack answered.
“Let’s get some lights out here on this ridge. I want to see what they’re up against. Maybe there’s an easier climb somewhere along the face.”
As they were checking the ridge, helicopters arrived and, with them, additional equipment and manpower.
Jack stayed in contact with Pete and continued to try various frequencies, hoping to reach the walkie-talkies the Scouts were reported to have.
Worth the Wait (Last Hope Ranch Book 2) Page 11