# Going Gone

Sharon Sala

The final storm of the season could be their last. After barely escaping death when her plane crashed deep in the Rocky Mountains during a snowstorm, Laura Doyle is left with a lingering fear for her life. Her lover, FBI agent Cameron Winger, reassures her that he found her then and always will. But Laura is right to be afraid, because when their engagement is announced it signals to a madman that it's time for his killing spree to begin again.Twice thwarted by Cameron and his partners, the Stormchaser pairs random acts of God with deliberate acts of evil. His final act of vengeance will finish his twisted vendetta by taking from Cameron the thing he loves most: Laura.As law enforcement struggles to connect the gruesome murders he's committed to mask his return, the Stormchaser draws closer to his true target. But Cameron and Laura don't realize they're in the eye of the storm–and this time, being unprepared for the onslaught could spell disaster.

The final storm of the season could be their last.

After barely escaping death when her plane crashed deep in the Rocky Mountains during a snowstorm, Laura Doyle is left with a lingering fear for her life. Her lover, FBI agent Cameron Winger, reassures her that he found her then and always will. But Laura is right to be afraid, because when their engagement is announced it signals to a madman that it’s time for his killing spree to begin again.

Twice thwarted by Cameron and his partners, the Stormchaser pairs random acts of God with deliberate acts of evil. His final act of vengeance will finish his twisted vendetta by taking from Cameron the thing he loves most: Laura.

As law enforcement struggles to connect the gruesome murders he’s committed to mask his return, the Stormchaser draws closer to his true target. But Cameron and Laura don’t realize they’re in the eye of the storm—and this time, being unprepared for the onslaught could spell disaster.

Praise for the novels of

SHARON

SALA

“Vivid, gripping…this thriller keeps the pages turning.”

—Library Journal on Torn Apart

“Sala’s characters are vivid and engaging.”

—Publishers Weekly on Cut Throat

“Sharon Sala is not only a top romance novelist, she is an inspiration for people everywhere who wish to live their dreams.”

—John St. Augustine, host,

Power!Talk Radio WDBC-AM, Michigan

“Veteran romance writer Sala lives up to her reputation with this well-crafted thriller.”

—Publishers Weekly on Remember Me

“[A] well-written, fast-paced ride.”

—Publishers Weekly on Nine Lives

“Perfect entertainment for those looking for a suspense novel with emotional intensity.”

—Publishers Weekly on Out of the Dark

Also by Sharon Sala

Forces of Nature

GOING TWICE

GOING ONCE

The Rebel Ridge novels

’TIL DEATH

DON’T CRY FOR ME

NEXT OF KIN

The Searchers series

BLOOD TRAILS

BLOOD STAINS

BLOOD TIES

The Storm Front trilogy

SWEPT ASIDE

TORN APART

BLOWN AWAY

THE WARRIOR

BAD PENNY

THE HEALER

CUT THROAT

NINE LIVES

THE CHOSEN

MISSING

WHIPPOORWILL

ON THE EDGE

“Capsized”

DARK WATER

OUT OF THE DARK

SNOWFALL

BUTTERFLY

REMEMBER ME

REUNION

SWEET BABY

Originally published as Dinah McCall

THE RETURN

Going

Gone

Sharon Sala


www.mirabooks.co.uk

When you live life on the edge and in constant pursuit of one goal, you are missing what matters most. Once time is spent, it’s not the pot of gold you found at rainbow’s end that you will remember. It’s the people you met and the life you lived along the way.

Time is precious, going once through childhood; going twice as fast as your teenage years fly by. And once you walk into the world of an adult, life flies by before you know it; going once, going twice, going gone.

I dedicate this book to dreamers like me, the ones who remember the trip better than the destination.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Booklist

Title Page

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Copyright

One

The climax slammed into Laura Doyle so fast that she lost her mind. She heard Cameron groan as he let go and went with her, riding the bliss of pure lust. She threw her head back and laughed as the last shudder rolled through her. Making love to him was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her, and she didn’t ever want it to stop.

“That, my love, was amazing,” she said as she locked her fingers around his neck.

“Am I really your love?”

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes...forever and ever,” she said as she pulled him down for one last kiss.

* * *

It was the scream of someone shouting Laura’s name that woke her, but within seconds she’d gone from the afterglow of a sexy dream to heart-pounding fear as she scrambled to tighten her seat belt. The private jet she’d boarded in Los Angeles was in trouble. An alarm was sounding inside the cockpit, and the pilot, Ken Price, was shouting at everyone to buckle up.

God in heaven, they were going down!

Marcy, her friend and coworker, who was sitting across the aisle, was crying as she tried to text someone on her cell phone. Laura thought of her sister, Sarah, and then of Cameron, but there was no time for goodbyes. She could hear someone praying, and the nose of the plane was no longer level with the horizon.

Marcy gave her a frantic look and tossed her a folded blanket. Laura caught it in midair and put it in her lap only seconds before she assumed the crash position. Her last conscious thought was that the blanket smelled like mouthwash, and then—impact!

* * *

It was pain, rolling, stabbing, unbelievable misery like nothing Laura ever felt, that woke her next. Something wet was running down the side of her face, and she couldn’t figure out why the house was so dark. She reached for the bedside table to turn on the light, felt hair and then the side of someone’s face, and imagined an intruder had broken into her house, and screamed until the back of her throat closed up from the panic.

The moan that followed was not her own, and that was when she remembered the plane crash. The fact that she was not about to be murdered in bed was a relief, but that she might die in this wreckage after living through the crash was not. The scent of an electrical short was strong, although she couldn’t see any flames. She heard another moan, followed by a short, choking gasp.

“Marcy, is that you? Dan? Ken? Anyone?”

No one answered.

“Please, God, don’t let this be happening,” she whispered, and then realized she was shaking, but not from shock.

It was cold-to-the-bone freezing inside the cabin. She didn’t know where they’d crashed, but it was February, and if they had gone down in the Rockies, her troubles had just grown exponentially.

She began fumbling at her waist, trying to undo her seat belt and find the blanket that had been in her lap. In moments she discovered she was flat on her back on the floor between the seats, which meant it was probably Marcy on the floor beside her. She shook her friend’s shoulder, trying to get her to wake up.

“Marcy! Where are the blankets? We need the blankets. Can you find yours?”

Marcy didn’t say anything, and Laura felt the first symptoms of hypothermia setting in.

“I did not survive this plane crash just to freeze to death,” she mumbled, and tried to get up, but her leg was caught, and it was too dark to see how to free herself. Moments later something shifted above her, and she threw her arms up in defensive mode just as a duffel bag fell out of an overhead compartment and onto her chest. The sudden impact sent a pain through her body that was so strong she passed out. When she woke up again, the bag was still on her chest and she was struggling to breathe. If her ribs hadn’t been injured in the crash, they were now. Every breath she took hurt, and she was getting light-headed from the pain. She had to find something to keep her warm, or next time she passed out, she might never wake up.

After a few moments of fumbling, she managed to unzip the bag and then began digging among the items until she found what seemed to be a heavy bath towel. When she felt an insignia embroidered in the terry cloth, she guessed this was the complimentary bathrobe that had been on the hook inside each hotel bathroom. This must be Dan’s bag. He was notorious for taking things from hotels and then wondering why his credit card bill was higher than everyone else’s.

Her hands were trembling as she covered herself with the robe. After that she began piling the rest of the garments from inside the bag on top of the robe, layer after layer. The scent of Dan’s aftershave was the last thing she smelled as she passed out again.

The next time she woke up it was morning, and Marcy had rolled away and was lying on her side just out of Laura’s reach.

“Marcy! Marcy! Can you hear me?”

Marcy didn’t answer.

Laura pushed aside the covers to look at herself and then gasped. Her arms and hands were covered in dried blood, and her fingers were trembling as she began a self-examination.

Her chest hurt—a lot. The blood on her forehead was dried, and her leg was still trapped and aching terribly. When she heard something scratching at the outside of the plane her heart soared. Surely that was their rescuers, already on scene.

“Help! Help! We’re in here!” she cried, but no one answered, and the scratching stopped.

When she realized it wasn’t people making that noise and they were not being rescued, she broke down in tears, sobbing from pain and disappointment. It took her a few minutes to get her emotions under control and focus on getting free. Now that it was daylight, she could see how to remove the debris under which she’d been trapped.

She sat up slowly, moaning as pain rolled through her midsection, then, one at a time, began moving things aside until she was finally free.

Her leg was throbbing with every heartbeat. She reached down to pull up her pant leg and check it out, then nearly passed out from the pain and stopped. Okay, bending over was a bad idea, but at least when she stood up, her aching leg held her weight.

But her relief was short-lived when she heard a snarl, and then a low, throaty growl from outside the plane and remembered the scratching from before. At that point she panicked again. The thought of falling victim to wild animals was horrifying, but a quick glance about the cabin told her it was still intact.

The good news was that no animals could get to her. The bad news was that Marcy was apparently dead. She began to cry as she set about looking for Dan, and quickly found his body crumpled up in a corner near the door to the pilot’s cabin. Her fingers were trembling as she felt for a pulse at the base of his neck. His skin was as cold as the air around them, and there were no signs of life. They had been more than coworkers with the Red Cross. They were her friends, and they were dead. Then she remembered the pilot, Ken Price. He had to be alive. She couldn’t do this by herself.

The door leading into the cockpit was ajar. She stepped inside, then slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Ken’s eyes were wide-open in a death stare that gave her the chills. All the rest of his facial features had been completely obliterated by the impact.

All of a sudden the walls began to spin around her. She staggered out of the cockpit and slid down the wall into a sitting position, quickly putting her head between her knees to keep from passing out. As the wave of nausea passed, she began to think what to do next, and talking aloud seemed to help her focus.

“I need my coat, and I need to radio for help.”

But that meant going back into the cockpit. She forced herself to go, and sobbed all the way through the ordeal of trying to make Ken’s radio work, but to no avail.

She didn’t know if private jets like this one were equipped with locator beacons, but she was determined not to lose hope. After one brief moment of panic, thinking she might never see Sarah or Cameron again, she had to believe she’d lived through this for a reason. It was time to get practical. She moved back into the cabin, putting on as many pieces of Dan’s clothing as she could wear. When she finally found her coat, she threw it over her arm and began searching through the debris for cell phones.

* * *

Cameron Winger was on his way out of the Federal Building, buttoning up his coat as he went. He ducked his head against the blast of winter wind as the door swung shut behind him. Tiny flakes of snow lit on his hair like bits of white lace on black satin. He was a tall man with features more refined than his attitude. He didn’t like the word no and had no tolerance for ineptitude. He squinted when he was deliberating a decision until his green eyes were barely visible, and there was just the tiniest hint of a dimple in his right cheek. He’d been with the FBI since college and never once regretted the decision.

He was on his way to his car when his cell phone rang. He glanced at caller ID and frowned. Why was Laura’s sister, Sarah, calling him?

“Hello?”

“Cameron! Thank God you answered!”

His gut knotted when he heard the panic in her voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Laura’s plane never landed. It went off radar late yesterday evening.”

The world stopped. Cameron felt the bitter bite of winter on his face as he turned away and closed his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Laura was everything to him. Then he took a deep breath and made himself focus.

“She was coming back from that convention in L.A., right?”

“Yes.”

“Do they know where it went down?”

“All I know is they’re setting up search and rescue somewhere around Denver. Can you go? I’m in Canada. Someone needs to be there for her, and I can’t get there fast enough to do any good.”

“Absolutely.”

“Keep me informed?” she begged.

“Of course,” he said, and made a U-turn on the sidewalk, resisting the urge to run as he headed back into the Federal Building.

* * *

It took over an hour, but Laura finally found all four cell phones, then, one by one, her hopes were dashed as she failed to get a signal.

“Can you believe it?” she muttered, talking to Marcy as if she could still hear. “Four phones and not a single signal from any of them.”

Marcy had nothing to say.

At least during the search for the phones she’d found a first-aid kit, some snacks and two bottles of water. She put the food and water in the farthest corner of the plane, away from the bodies, then made her way to the tiny bathroom. There was no getting around bodily functions, but she had to leave the door open for light so she could see.

When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she stifled a horrified gasp. When she sat down on the commode, she groaned from the pain, and when she got up, she groaned again.

The cut in her hairline had bled into her scalp while she was passed out, leaving her white-blond hair with garish streaks of red. Now it was freeze-dried to her skin and nothing short of multiple scrubbings was going to take it out.

Her face was normally heart-shaped but was swollen on one side more than the other, and her lower lip was puffy and bruised. Her eyes, normally blue, reflected the pain she was suffering to the point that they were almost gray. She was dressed like a scarecrow with all the layers of clothing, but considering the danger of her circumstances, her appearance wasn’t worth further consideration.

She stumbled as she came out of the bathroom, grabbed at a seat to keep from falling and then winced from the pain of the added jolt. After a thorough search through the first-aid kit, she found a few butterfly bandages and used them on the cut in her scalp. She chewed and swallowed three extremely bitter aspirin, hoping they were enough to offset the steady throb between her eyes. Used one wet wipe to clean some of the blood from her face and hands, then managed to open one of the bottles of water and took a drink.

It hurt terribly to inhale, and she was guessing her ribs were either broken or severely bruised. She dug farther into the kit and found a couple of ACE bandages. Reluctantly, she removed enough clothing to wrap up her rib cage. It hurt like hell in the process and as soon as she was done, she dressed hastily, shivering from the encroaching cold.

Her next problem was finding a way to get warm. There were three other suitcases that had been tossed about the cabin, and she went through them one by one, digging out the contents and tossing anything usable toward the tail section. Once the suitcases were empty, she began arranging the clothing until she had made a nest for herself within the pile.

Exhausted and reeling from so many aches she could hardly breathe, she crawled into the middle of all that fabric, then pulled the coats and the blankets she’d found around her. Secure within her makeshift bed, she tried the phones again, praying to get a signal. Tears welled as she finally accepted it was a lost cause.

It was quiet outside now, and she thought about the animals, hoping they were gone. The wind rose in an eerie wail that mirrored her despair. She was staring at one of the tiny windows, telling herself that any moment the face of a rescuer would appear and look inside, and she would be saved.

When it began to snow, it added another dimension to the danger she was in. This would slow down search planes, and if the snow was too heavy, the planes would never be able to find the wreckage of a white, snow-covered plane from the air.

Sometime later the animals came back, once again scratching at the outside of the fuselage. Listening to them snarling and yipping as they tried to dig their way inside, she guessed they were wolves. Despite the fact that the extreme cold had all but stopped decomposition of the bodies, she was sure the pack could smell them.

Wanting to see what she was facing, she got up, moving quietly through the cabin toward the cockpit to look out. Just as she reached the doorway, two huge wolves suddenly leaped up onto the nose of the plane and begin digging at the cracked windshield, trying to get to the pilot’s body. The sight was so startling that she screamed.

The unexpected sound took the wolves by surprise, and they spun about and leaped out of sight. Though she knew they would be back, it was the first visual she had of how truly trapped she was. Even if she wanted to try to walk out, she would never be able to outrun them.

In a panic, she slammed the cockpit door shut. She couldn’t make the wolves go away, but she didn’t have to see them again. As she turned to walk away, she heard a click and turned around just as the door swung open on its own. Once again she was faced with a new fear.

Logically, she didn’t think they could break through the windshield, but just in case, she needed to know there was a boundary between them and her that they couldn’t breach. She tried to push some of the loose debris in front of the door to hold it shut, but it wasn’t substantial enough, and the seats, which were heavy enough, were bolted to the floor.

When the two wolves jumped back up on the nose of the plane and began digging at the windshield again, she screamed and slammed the door, then used her body weight to keep it closed.

“Oh, God, oh, God, please! Don’t let this be the way I die,” she cried, sobbing hysterically.

Her fingers were so cold she could barely feel them as she buried her face in her hands. Her sister slid through her mind as she choked on a sob. What if she never saw Sarah again?

And Cameron—there was no way she could describe what he meant to her. She’d been enchanted with him almost from their first meeting, and as the months went by, she’d begun dreaming of a happily ever after with him. Now she didn’t know if she would see tomorrow.

She could hear the wolves still outside the cockpit and more that were surrounding the plane, digging and yipping and whining. She grabbed a piece of metal and began beating it against the inside wall.

“Stop! Get away! Get lost! Leave me alone!” she screamed.

The noise silenced them again, but she knew it wouldn’t last. She was looking around for an answer to her latest dilemma when her gaze fell on Dan’s body.

He was a big man and less than three feet away from the door. He, or at least his body, could hold the door shut. At first she hesitated, uncertain how to go about it and leave him any dignity, then realized that couldn’t matter, not when her life depended on it. Without looking at his face, she grabbed him by the arms and began dragging his body backward toward the door. Pain racked her chest and legs as she strained against his weight, while the wolves continued to circle the plane, howling and growling.

Finally it was done.

Exhausted and so shaky she thought she would faint, she turned around and went for Marcy, dragging her body up beside Dan’s. When she was done, she fell to her knees beside them. Her chest was on fire, and there wasn’t a place on her body that didn’t hurt, but the deed was done. The door was shut and wasn’t about to come open.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she sobbed, as she patted Marcy’s arm, then picked up Dan’s hand and laid it across his chest. “Please, forgive me. Just know that your last physical act on this earth will be protecting me, and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

She scuttled backward like a crab, and as she did, she realized the wind was rising. Just as she stood, a gust buffeted the plane, strong enough to actually rock it.

She grabbed hold of a seat to steady herself while it dawned on her that in fact she had no concept of how precarious her situation really was. If they hadn’t landed in a fairly level area, and if the wind got too strong, it could dislodge the plane, which would slide off the mountain with her trapped inside.

The notion gave her pause, and for the first time, she realized it might be to her advantage to limit her movements. She gave her coworkers one last look and then made her way to the back of the plane to the minuscule bathroom.

When she came out, she cleaned her hands on another wet wipe, ate half an energy bar, washed it down with two small sips of water, crawled back into her nest, pulled up her makeshift covers and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

Moonlight came through the cabin windows, bathing the bare skin of the two lovers caught up in the simple act of love. That the joining of one body to another could cause such an intense, physical reaction was understood, but at the same time, for them it was a new and wonderful thing. When Laura began to climax, the satisfaction on Cameron’s face was nothing short of bliss. She was still riding the high of her own pleasure when she slid her hands between their bodies. Moments later he was spiraling out of control. Her heart was still hammering from the aftershocks when he brushed his mouth across her lips.

“I love you most, Laura Doyle...so, so much.”

* * *

Laura woke up with a gasp, then grabbed her chest and tried to stop the shock wave of pain that ripped through her. It was getting dark inside the cabin. Had she been asleep that long? She glanced toward the windows. They were nearly covered with snow.

Oh, dear Lord, not that, too. “Stop the snow. Please, stop the snow.”

She crawled out of her makeshift bed, but her leg buckled when she tried to stand. Something was very wrong. The more time passed, the stiffer her whole body became, but the pain in her leg was different. She leaned against a seat and slowly pulled up her pant leg, then moaned when she saw the size of the gash.

It was about a half inch deep, running from just below her knee to her ankle, and the only reason she hadn’t found it sooner was that the extreme cold had been as successful as cauterization, and what blood there was had soaked into her black slacks unnoticed, and then into her shoe.

She fumbled around in the first-aid kit for the bottle of disinfectant and poured it into the gash. The burn was intense, but it was better than getting infection and having gangrene set in. Once the burn began to fade, she got a couple more pain pills and chewed them up, then washed them down with another sip of water.

Her belly growled, but putting food in her mouth was more than she could handle. She crawled back into her bed and began to pray. She didn’t want to die, but unless a miracle occurred, it would happen.

When she closed her eyes, she thought of Cameron. He belonged to the FBI. They found bad guys who murdered people, and good people who were kidnapped. Surely they could find this plane.

“Please, find me,” she whispered as she started to shake.

She pulled the covers up over her head.

The wolves were still circling. She could hear their whining and digging, and every so often the sounds of a quarrel as one trespassed on another’s space. The first time she heard one on top of the fuselage, she realized they were getting braver. Would this nightmare never end?

* * *

Once Cameron had given the director a quick explanation of what had happened, he headed home. After packing for cold weather, he caught a ride on a government jet flying a team of forensic specialists to the West Coast after the pilot agreed to drop him in Denver on the way. After takeoff, there was nothing to distract him from the fact that the woman he loved might be dead. The passengers he was traveling with were otherwise occupied, which suited him fine. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

It was late afternoon and only hours away from nightfall when they landed. He had a text from the assistant director giving him the location of where search and rescue had set up, and after renting a car, he wasted no time getting there.

The search-and-rescue station was in a small community center in a suburb on the outskirts of Denver. When he pulled up and began looking for a place to park, a local police officer flagged him down.

“I’m sorry, sir. This area is closed to the public.”

Cameron flashed his badge. “Special Agent Winger, FBI. Who’s in charge here?”

The officer immediately relaxed.

“That would be Lieutenant Clark. You can park in that lot just ahead. The lieutenant should be in that long building behind it.”

“Thank you,” Cameron said, and a few moments later he parked and killed the engine.

The sudden silence inside the vehicle made him shudder. Then his phone rang. It was his friend and fellow agent Tate Benton.

“Hello.”

“Cameron...I just heard about Laura. Do you know anything yet? Have they located the plane?”

“I don’t know. I just arrived at the main search-and-rescue site.”

“Is there anything the rest of us can do?” Tate asked.

It was the sympathy in his friend’s voice that did him in. Breath caught in the back of Cameron’s throat as he swallowed a couple of times to keep from crying.

“I’ve got to go,” he said quickly. “If I learn anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Will do,” Tate said.

Cameron pocketed his phone and got out. He had a large duffel bag over one shoulder and a hiker’s backpack on the other as he headed for the building.

Inside, the place was a hive of activity. Maps of the mountainous area around Denver were taped to the walls and marked up with search grids. Radio communication was at the other end of the room, and, from the static and squawks of intermittent traffic, it was obvious that they were already in search mode.

He stopped a young woman hurrying past him.

“Is Lieutenant Clark in here?”

She pointed at a tall, stoop-shouldered man with graying hair near the com center.

“That’s him on the phone.”

“Thank you,” Cameron said, dropped his gear against a wall and quickly moved in that direction. Once the lieutenant hung up the phone, Cameron flashed his badge as he introduced himself.

Clark frowned. “What interest does the FBI have in this?”

Cameron pocketed his badge. “It’s strictly personal, sir. I’m involved with Laura Doyle, one of the passengers.”

Clark’s expression cleared. “Ah. Sorry.”

“Is there any news?” Cameron asked.

Clark’s shoulders slumped a little more, as if weighed down by his responsibilities.

“Not really. We have a general idea of where the plane most likely went down, but it’s snowing heavily up in the mountains today, so the search planes are grounded.”

Cameron’s heart sank. “I want to help. Assign me to a search team. I have all the necessary training.”

“I don’t—”

“Please,” Cameron added. “I can’t just sit by and wait when I have the skills to help.”

Clark eyed Cameron, who knew what the lieutenant was seeing: a big man, twenty-eight or twenty-nine, and obviously fit. He wasn’t the type to slow anybody down.

“I brought clothes and equipment,” Cameron added.

Clark relented. “Very well. We have cots set up in the adjoining room and a temporary kitchen beyond that. Find a place to bunk. You can go out in the morning.”

Cameron groaned inwardly. So close and still he had to wait.

“Yes, sir, thank you,” Cameron said, grabbing his gear.

Two

The snow stopped at midnight, but Laura continued to slip in and out of consciousness, unaware of her surroundings, alternately freezing and burning up with fever. Once when she woke up, she saw wolves standing in the doorway, snarling. Before she could panic, she passed out again. The next time she woke up, her sister was peering in through one of the small windows.

“Wolves, Sarah. Run,” she mumbled, then slipped back into her mental abyss.

The next time she came to, it was pitch-black, and her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth.

“Water,” she muttered, and felt around in her bed until she found her stash, knowing she had to hydrate so her internal organs would not shut down.

Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely hold the bottle, but she drank until it was gone.

Easy, honey. Too much, too fast.

She tried to sit up, but didn’t have the strength. “Cameron? Is that you?” When no one answered, she dropped her head and closed her eyes.

“I’m lost, Cameron. I’m so lost. Please, find me.”

She passed out with the empty water bottle still in her hand.

* * *

Cameron was up and dressed for the task ahead long before daybreak. When he went to the kitchen in search of coffee, the first thing he heard from the even earlier risers was that it had stopped snowing in the mountains. That meant the search would move into the air as well, which was a positive. Now they just needed to find the wreckage. He picked up a sweet roll and a cup of coffee, and sat down at an empty table to eat.

Lieutenant Clark walked in and spotted him. He, too, got a sweet roll and a cup of coffee, then walked over.

“Good morning, Agent Winger. I see you’re ready.”

Cameron wiped his mouth as he stood.

“Yes, sir.”

“I have planes about ready to go up. You can go with the air search, or with a ground crew. It’s your choice.”

“I choose ground.”

Clark nodded. “As soon as you’ve finished, I’ll—”

Cameron interrupted. “I’m ready now. Let me get my gear.”

Once Cameron returned, Clark headed for the back door.

“Follow me,” he said, and took a big bite of his sweet roll on the way out.

Large four-wheel-drive vehicles were coming into the parking lot every few minutes to unload cold, weary searchers who’d been out since the day before. Two big trucks were loading up on fuel, while other vehicles were waiting to take new crews of searchers out.

Clark flagged down one of the drivers, who was standing beside an older-model Suburban.

“Hey, Wilson, got room in there for one more?”

The driver, a heavyset woman with a shock of crimson-red hair, turned around. She eyed Cameron’s gear and backpack, and then nodded.

“Get in, but you may have to sit on that pack.”

“I don’t mind,” Cameron said, and climbed in.

The men inside shifted enough to give him legroom as he shoved the backpack in a corner, and then sat down in front of it, using it for a backrest. A few minutes later the doors slammed shut, and the vehicle began to move.

Cameron nodded cordially at the men but had no desire to visit. Still, one of them was more curious than the others and took away his decision to remain under the radar. The man leaned over, his hand extended in welcome.

“Reno Brown,” he said as he shook Cameron’s hand.

“Cameron Winger.”

“You’re not a local,” Reno said.

Cameron shook his head. “No, I’m from D.C.”

The other men in the vehicle eyed him curiously, but it was Reno who asked the pertinent question.

“That’s a far piece to come to look for a downed plane.”

Cameron nodded, but Reno wasn’t satisfied.

“Do you work for the FAA or something?”

“No,” Cameron said.

Reno waited for more, but when he figured out he wasn’t going to get it voluntarily, he smiled, shrugged and shut up.

Cameron shifted focus to a large clod of dirt beneath a seat that was turning into mud from the snowmelt next to it. They rode for almost an hour before the vehicle began slowing down.

“I guess we’re there,” Reno said.

A few moments later the doors opened.

“Leave your sleeping gear in the big tent, and if we’re lucky, you won’t need it,” Wilson said as the searchers began getting out.

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Reno said, and strode toward the waiting snowmobiles.

Cameron was right behind him.

“We ride in pairs,” Reno said. “The driver makes sure we don’t fall off the mountain. The rider looks for wreckage.”

Cameron stopped. He was anxious to search but didn’t want to waste time watching where they were going. He wanted to watch for signs.

“I know the area. Want to ride with me?” Reno asked.

Cameron nodded as he followed the men inside.

The on-site quarters consisted of a very large tent with at least three dozen cots set up. Another radio operator was on-site to monitor updates from the air searchers and pass info on to the ground crew. Extra food and fuel were stacked in any available free space.

The terrain was heavily wooded, with at least four, maybe five, inches of fresh snow, and it all looked alike. He left his gear beneath one of the cots and was second-guessing his decision to go with the ground search when Reno arrived carrying a handheld GPS.

“I’ve got our search coordinates entered in here. They said the temps went down to five below last night. If we don’t find the wreckage today, we’ll go from rescue to retrieval.”

“Shut the hell up,” Cameron said shortly.

Reno blinked and then gave Cameron a closer look.

“Sorry, man.”

Cameron sighed. “No, I’m sorry. Look, this is personal. My girlfriend is one of the missing passengers.”

Reno frowned. “Well, hell, I’m sorry all over again. So let’s get going. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Cameron held out his hand. “Can we start over?”

Reno smiled. “I’m Reno Brown.”

“Cameron Winger.”

“Nice to meet you, Cameron. You know what to look for out there?”

“Yes.”

Reno handed Cameron a helmet.

“Then off we go,” he said.

They put on the helmets as they moved toward the parked snowmobiles, and one by one, the searchers took off, moving toward the new grid pattern. Once the official search began, Reno Brown’s affable manner disappeared. He was all business as he wove through the thick growth of trees with steady skill.

Their arctic gear was welcome protection against the high-altitude cold, but it also made Cameron conscious of what the passengers in the downed plane would be enduring. He kept his gaze focused on the trees, looking for signs of broken treetops or a snow-covered shape that did not fit in to the surroundings.

The noise of so many engines startled an elk, and it bolted out of hiding and across a small meadow. Cameron watched it bound through the snow then disappear back into the forest.

The sun was bright, which made looking at the vast expanse of snow painful. The dark glasses they were wearing helped deflect the glare, but within a couple of hours he had a dull ache behind his eyes anyway.

The radios in their helmets made communication easier, but it was sparse and depressing. When they finished the search of their first grid, the crew stopped long enough to put new coordinates into their mobile GPS systems and discuss the situation.

As the day rolled on, Cameron’s hopes began to fade. When he figured out that getting a signal for a cell phone up here was next to impossible, it alleviated one fear he’d had: that the reason no one had called for help was because they were all dead.

They stopped just after three to refuel. Reno was eating an energy bar and Cameron was relieving his thirst when they received word from air search of a possible crash site a couple of miles north of their present location.

The urgency of the situation had just risen.

Reno thumped him on the shoulder as he headed for their ride.

“Let’s go get this done,” he said.

Moments later, the snowmobiles and their riders were speeding off in a new direction, desperate to reach the target location before dark.

* * *

Laura was alive between one world and the next, waiting to see who came for her first. Once she saw her mother standing beneath a snow-covered tree, but when she suddenly disappeared, Laura felt abandoned. Then she saw Dan and Marcy in the distance and called out, wanting them to wait, but they were too far away and didn’t hear her. She didn’t understand why everyone was leaving her behind. She was cold and hurt. Why wouldn’t they help? Why wouldn’t they take her with them?

Twice she thought she heard voices and pushed the covers aside each time, crying out in relief.

“Here! I’m here!”

But no one came to help, and the wolves were back. She could hear them digging and yipping, trying to get in.

“Go away,” she mumbled, and then started to cry. “Cameron, please find me. Why can’t you find me?”

A wolf howled.

She pulled the coats back up over her head as her fever pulled her under.

* * *

The vista spread out before them as Reno topped a small rise. From this angle Cameron could see the downward slope of the land, as well as a startling anomaly. Despite the snowfall, there was a very visible and distinct path of broken treetops below.

He thumped Reno on the shoulder and pointed.

“There! Look there!”

Reno nodded, then swung the snowmobile to the left and accelerated, using the radio in his helmet to alert the others to their find.

Cameron’s heart was hammering.

We’re coming, Laura. We’re coming, baby. Don’t give up on us yet.

When they began to see debris, Cameron felt sick. The worse the destruction had been to the plane, the less protection they would have had from the elements. There was a piece of a wingtip caught in a large stand of pines, and an entire wing lay on the ground a few yards farther on. Despite the snow, the heavy tree growth had partially protected it, leaving most of it visible, but they still hadn’t found the plane.

Cameron’s heart was pounding as Reno began confirming their find. All of a sudden the radio traffic that had been almost nonexistent was loud and rapid in his ears.

When they came up on the main crash site and saw the plane, the sound of their engine sent a pack of wolves running.

Cameron groaned. As if the crash itself wasn’t enough to weather.

Between the wind and the wolves, enough snow had been dug or blown away from the fuselage for him to see that it was intact.

Reno wheeled the snowmobile into a vacant space between some trees and killed the engine. He was on the radio, alerting headquarters that they’d found the wreckage, but Cameron had abandoned his helmet and was already off and running.

The doors were half-buried in snow, and no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn’t get them open. He began circling the plane, and as he rounded the nose and saw the dead pilot through the shattered windshield, his legs went weak.

Reno ran up behind him with a crowbar in his hands.

“The doors are jammed,” Cameron said, then crawled up on the nose section of the plane. “Throw me the crowbar!”

Reno gave it a toss.

Cameron caught it in midair and then used it to hammer at the shattered windshield until it gave way, exploding inward into thousands of tiny pellet-like pieces.

Reno saw the pilot as he crawled up beside him.

“Oh, hell,” he said softly.

Cameron handed off the crowbar and then climbed inside, but when he tried to open the door to get into the cabin, it wouldn’t budge.

“What’s wrong?” Reno said as he climbed inside with him, the crowbar still in his hand.

“Something’s up against the door,” Cameron said. “Probably debris.”

“Here, let me help,” Reno said, and together they threw their weight against it until it began to give.

That was when they realized it wasn’t debris blocking the door. It was bodies. Cameron saw a man’s leg and shoe first and kept pushing, but as the door opened farther and he saw a woman’s ankle and shoe, his heart sank.

God, please, God, no.

One more push and all of a sudden they were in.

Once Cameron stepped over the bodies and into the main cabin, he went weak with relief when he realized the deceased woman was a brunette. Laura was blonde.

Reno felt for a pulse, then shook his head. “They’re both gone. Is this your girl?”

“No,” Cameron said, and then looked through the debris toward the back of the plane. “Someone has cleared a path through here.”

The sound of approaching snowmobiles became apparent.

“The others are arriving. I’m going to try to open a door from the inside,” Reno said, and took the crowbar toward an exit door as Cameron began wending his way toward the tail section.

It wasn’t far. There weren’t that many seats in the private jet. He should have been able to see her, but he couldn’t.

“Laura, where are you?” he yelled, and began turning over boxes and suitcases as he went.

It took him a few moments to realize that all the suitcases were empty, but there weren’t any pieces of clothing strewn about, and that was when it hit him. Someone had emptied the contents to stay warm, which had to mean Laura had survived the crash! When he saw the big pile of clothes, he leaped toward it, frantically calling her name.

* * *

Laura was standing in a sunlit meadow, waiting. All she knew was that someone was coming to get her and she had to be ready. The breeze was warm on her face. The air smelled rain-fresh clean, and when someone began calling her name, she stepped forward. He was here! She didn’t know where they were going, but she was ready to leave.

The voice was nearer. Laura. Laura.

“I’m here!” she cried, and then all of a sudden the sun went behind a cloud and the wind grew cold. She cried out, “Help me!” and then felt a touch on her face, then at her neck. “I’m ready,” she said, and let go.

* * *

“Is that your girl?” Reno asked, as Cameron was feeling for broken bones.

“Yes, this is my girl, and she’s alive,” Cameron said, unashamed of the tears on his face.

Suddenly the plane was filled with searchers.

“Radio for a medevac! We have a live one!” Reno shouted while Cameron continued to assess her injuries.

She was burning up with fever, which meant infection and possibly internal injuries. He found the first-aid kit beside her, and when he began examining her body, discovered the ACE bandages she’d wrapped around her rib cage, the gash in her head and the wound on her leg. She’d tried to doctor herself, but it was obvious she was in dire need of more extensive care.

“A chopper’s already in the area. They’ll be here within minutes,” Reno said as he dropped to his knees beside Cameron. “Looks like she was trying to patch herself up.”

“She works for the Red Cross,” Cameron said, remembering all the times he’d seen her working tirelessly, helping others in times of disaster. This time she was the one in need.

Reno eyed the nest she’d made of all the clothes, and the little food and water stash beside her.

“Looks like she’s quite a survivor,” he said.

Laura moaned.

Cameron cupped her cheek. His voice was steady, but his hands were trembling.

“Help is coming, baby. Hang on.”

Her lips were cracked and bleeding from the cold, and her long blond hair was bloody and matted, but she’d never looked as beautiful to him as she did right now.

“Help?”

When he heard her voice, he reached for her hand. “Yes, Laura, help is here, baby. We found you.”

Her eyelids began to flutter, and then she opened her eyes.

“Cameron?”

“Yes, honey, it’s me.”

A frown rippled across her forehead.

“Are you real?”

He gave her hand a slight squeeze.

“I’m real, and we’re here to take you home.”

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

“They’re dead. They left without me.”

He leaned down and kissed the side of her cheek, so overcome with emotion his voice was shaking.

“I’m really glad you waited for me to find you.”

She blinked so slowly that he thought she was passing out again, and then all of a sudden her eyelids flew open.

“The wolves...have to hide.”

“No, baby, they’re gone,” Cameron said.

She clutched his arm in sudden panic. “No. They dig. They’ll find me.”

Cameron looked over his shoulder, then shouted at Reno, “Where’s that chopper?”

“On approach,” Reno said.

Cameron cupped Laura’s cheek. “The medics are here. They’re going to take you to the hospital.”

A visible surge of panic swept through her as she clutched his sleeve tighter.

“Might die. Need to tell you—”

Cameron’s stomach rolled. “You are not going to die, do you hear me, Laura?”

“—to tell you I love you.”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, then leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I love you most.”

The familiar words brought tears, and then her eyes rolled back in her head.

“They’re here!” Reno called, eyeing a pair of medics as they came through the trees carrying a backboard and a stretcher.

Cameron patted her arm and then began looking through the stuff she’d gathered around her. He saw her purse and put it beside her so the medics would take it. Laura knew her job well and always traveled with a copy of her medical history and prescriptions. When he moved it, he saw four cell phones lying beneath it and groaned, imagining her panic and frustration at having so much technology in her hand and none of it working. He tossed her cell phone in her purse and left the others behind.

Then all at once the medical team was there. He moved aside, watching as they stabilized her neck, started an IV to push fluids and then rolled her onto the backboard, taking precautions even though it was obvious she had been mobile. After Cameron’s insistence and a brief explanation, they strapped her purse on with her.

“Where are you taking her?” Cameron asked as they headed out the door.

“University of Colorado Hospital in Aurora,” an EMT said.

Cameron followed them out. Unwilling to let her go, he helped carry her through the snow to the open meadow where the chopper had landed. He wanted to go with her, but once he saw how small the chopper was, he didn’t even ask.

She was still unconscious when they strapped the stretcher down inside the chopper. As they began lifting off, the air filled with wasplike shards of icy snow. Cameron turned away to protect his eyes, and when he looked back again, they had gained enough altitude that they were already heading back.

He watched until the chopper was little more than a speck, and then ran to catch up with the others. The search teams were in the process of leaving. The bodies and the wreckage belonged to another kind of team. Armed guards were standing by until the authorities came to remove the bodies. Then the NTSB would show up to recover the plane.

He looked around for Reno, saw him standing near their snowmobile and moved as fast as he could to get there. “Are you getting ready to leave?” he asked.

“Yeah. We need to hurry. Night’s coming, and we don’t want to be out here on snowmobiles after dark.”

“When we get back to camp, will anyone be going back down the mountain?”

Reno shrugged. “They may wait until morning to break camp, but we can ask.”

One thing at a time, Cameron thought, and climbed on.

Three

It was after dark when Cameron caught a ride with a van load of searchers on their way back to Denver. The ride down from the mountain staging area was even more treacherous at night, but about halfway down he got a cell signal and was finally able to send Sarah a text. Ever conscious of losing the signal, he kept details brief.


Laura alive. En route to University of Colorado Hospital in Aurora.


Her answer to him was just as abbreviated.


On my way. Between planes at airport. Thank you forever for giving Laura back to me.


He wouldn’t begin to take credit, but he understood what she meant.

When they finally saw the lights of Denver in the distance, everyone breathed a little easier. By the time the van reached the community center where the initial search and rescue had been set up, it was almost eight o’clock.

Cameron unloaded his gear with the others and headed into the community center to change back into street clothes and get the rest of his belongings.

He came out a short while later, his stride long and hurried as he crossed the parking lot. It felt like snow, but so far the overcast sky was holding whatever it carried. He tossed his bags in the trunk of his rental, entered the hospital address into the car’s GPS and took off through the city.

His belly growled as he pulled up at a stoplight, a reminder that he hadn’t eaten since the sweet roll this morning. After all that had happened today, that felt like a lifetime ago.

When the light turned green he accelerated through the intersection, then swung into the first fast-food drive-through he came to and ordered. He ate as he drove, washing his meal down with a cold Pepsi and wishing he’d asked for coffee instead. But he had to admit it was a smart move, because he felt less shaky, which was good. And once he got there, he wasn’t leaving Laura’s side.

Still, the closer he got to the hospital, the more anxious he became. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, a sense of finality was setting in. He’d done all he could have done by helping find her, and whatever was happening now was out of his hands. He had to trust she hadn’t survived all that horror for nothing.

As he headed toward the entrance, he felt a raindrop, then another, but before he got into the building it had turned into snow. He lengthened his stride.

Learning she was in Intensive Care wasn’t surprising, but it amped up his concern. Visiting hours in ICU were on the hour, every hour, and brief. He glanced at his watch and headed for the elevator. It was almost nine.

* * *

Laura moaned as pain pulled her out of her semiconscious state. Something was beeping. The plane! The alarm! The plane was going down.

I don’t want to die.

Tears rolled out from beneath her eyelids as she waited for impact. Instead, she heard the muffled sound of soft voices, a faint cry of pain and then a woman’s soft, reassuring voice. But it wasn’t until she homed in on the sharp click of footsteps coming toward her that she tried to open her eyes, because she recognized the stride.

Cameron.

Something brushed against the side of her cheek, followed by the warmth of a breath and the sweet sound of a familiar voice near her ear.

“Hey, baby,” Cameron said softly, and leaned over the bed just long enough to kiss her forehead and slip his hand in hers.

It is Cameron! He found me.

“You’re in a hospital, honey. Your plane crashed. Do you remember?”

Images flashed behind her eyelids. The pilot’s face obliterated. Marcy’s eyes frozen open in death. Dragging Dan’s body across the door to keep it closed. Her fingers curled around his hand, his presence anchoring her to reality. “They died.” The tone of her voice reflected her horror. His grip tightened.

“I know,” he said softly.

Panic shifted within her. It was hard to accept she’d been saved.

“I prayed for you to find me,” she whispered, then licked her lower lip where it had cracked from the cold.

“And we did. Lots of people were looking for you,” he said.

She finally managed to open her eyes. Cameron’s face was blurry, as if it was melting. It took her a few moments to realize she was still crying.

“I hurt.”

“I know, darlin’, with good reason. You have a concussion, three broken ribs, a buttload of stitches on your leg and you’re fighting pneumonia.”

“Am I dying?” she asked, then watched his eyes darken and a frown spread across his forehead as he leaned closer.

“No. You’re getting well and coming back to D.C. with me to live happily ever after.”

Breath caught in the back of her throat.

“With you?”

He ran a finger lightly down the side of her cheek.

“I had planned to say all this on Valentine’s Day, which happens to be next week, but sometimes plans change. I love you, Laura, more than I thought it was possible to love anyone, and almost losing you just made me more certain of that fact. You have to hang in there, baby.”

The room was spinning, or maybe it was all in Laura’s head. She grabbed hold of his wrist, trying to stop the motion so she could focus on his voice, but things were turning faster and faster, sucking her down with them.

“I’m going to pass out,” she mumbled, and proceeded to do exactly that.

“Sir, visiting hours are over,” a nurse said as she approached the bed.

Cameron lifted Laura’s hand to his lips.

“Be strong and get well, sweetheart. I’ll be back,” he promised, and reluctantly walked away.

* * *

Time dragged for Cameron as he waited between visits. Exhaustion finally caught up with him as the waiting room cleared out. The quiet washed over him as he changed his chair for the sofa. The soft leather pillowed his body when he turned and stretched out. It was just for a few minutes, he told himself, grateful to be off his feet. But at six feet three inches tall, his long legs had nowhere to go except over the arm of the sofa. He fell asleep with one arm flung over his eyes to keep out the light. He’d set the alarm on his watch, though, and when it went off, his feet hit the floor before his eyes were fully open. He turned and staggered to the bathroom.

He was still wearing jeans, which had been part of his traveling clothes, but after the first hour in the waiting room he had made a trip out to his car for a fleece jacket to pull over his shirt. The waiting room, like the hospital, bordered on cold, and he was glad for the added layer. The thought of coffee was enticing, but there was no time. He wanted to see Laura again.

There were others in line with him, waiting for the doors to the ICU to open. Even though they all shared the experience of having loved ones with critical health issues, no one seemed inclined to talk, looking instead at the floors or the walls, anywhere but at each other.

Cameron was worried. The last time he’d seen her they had put her on oxygen, and she’d slept all the way through his visit. He knew she needed rest to heal, but seeing her motionless and so vulnerable scared him. He needed to reconnect, to hear her voice and see recognition in her eyes, to know she wasn’t getting worse.

There was a nurse beside her bed when he walked up.

“Everything okay?” he asked softly.

The nurse recognized him from prior visits.

“She’s been crying out in her sleep,” she said, and injected the contents of a syringe into the IV port.

“What’s that for?” Cameron asked.

“Antibiotic. Her fever is still high.”

He frowned. “The wound on her leg was bad. Is it infected?”

The nurse hesitated. “Doctor Rector usually begins rounds about 7:00 a.m. He’ll be able to answer your questions then.”

Cameron didn’t push the issue. He knew nurses weren’t free to share medical information about their patients. As soon as the nurse left, he moved closer to the bed.

Laura moaned as he touched her forehead. Her skin was hot and dry.

“Shh, shh,” he said softly. “You’re safe, baby, you’re safe.”

Her lips were moving.

He leaned closer, caught just enough of what she was saying and sighed. She was still talking about wolves.

“They’re gone, Laura, they’re gone.”

She grabbed his arm. “Cameron?”

He took her hand. She still knew him. Thank God.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Found me?”

“Yes, we found you. You’re in a hospital in Denver. You are safe, and you will get well.”

“Stay.”

“I can’t stay, baby. You’re in ICU. But I’m right outside the door, and I’ll be back when they let me.”

Her eyes opened. “Cameron?”

“At your service,” he said.

“Sarah?”

“She’s on her way.”

“Love you,” she said, then closed her eyes.

She was already out when he answered, but it didn’t matter. He said for himself as much as for her, “I love you, too.”

The time went all too quickly, and soon he followed the other visitors out. But as they headed for the elevator, he went back to the waiting room alone. He was too wired to go back to sleep, and after digging through his wallet for some singles, he headed for the snack machines.

* * *

Sarah Doyle was holding Cameron’s last text close to her heart, counting on its truth.


Laura in ICU. I spoke to her. She knew me. Injuries severe, not life threatening. Worried about pneumonia. I’m in ICU waiting room.


Laura was all the family she had, and if she lost her, she would be as alone in the world as a person could be.

By the time her plane landed in Denver it was well past midnight, and the ground was dusted with snow. She caught a cab to the hospital and then texted Cameron to let him know she was on the ground, but he didn’t answer. She glanced at the time. One in the morning. He was probably in the ICU with Laura.

Her eyes burned from the bouts of crying she couldn’t seem to stop, and she caught a glimpse of herself in the cab window as they passed through the city.

Both sisters were blondes, and while the family resemblance was noticeable in their features, she was older and taller. Laura’s chosen path in life had gone nonprofit and led her to the Red Cross, while Sarah had gone the corporate route. And oddly enough, as Laura’s personal life had heated up, so had Sarah’s career; something she had yet to share.

The ride to the hospital was long, and the heater blasting in the front of the cab never quite raised the temperature in the backseat high enough to keep her comfortable. Even though the cranberry wool slacks and gray sweater she was wearing were warm, and her winter coat was good protection from the cold, she was shaking.

She paid the driver upon arrival, grabbed her bag and got out on the run.

* * *

Cameron was kicked back on the sofa checking his messages. The pretzels he was eating were all he’d had since dinner, along with the can of Pepsi at his elbow. Wade and his wife, Jo, had sent a text earlier wishing Laura well. He smiled, thankful for good friends. He was still scanning messages when he got a text from Tate. It was after three in the morning in D.C. That guy kept seriously late hours. He began to read.


How’s Laura?


Cameron popped another pretzel in his mouth and then answered.


Fighting infection and pneumonia.


So sorry. Nola sends her love. Keep us in the loop.


Will do and thanks.


He left the other messages for later, finished off the pretzels and washed them down with the last of the Pepsi. He was tossing away the trash when Sarah Doyle walked in.

The moment she saw him, she dropped her bag and started crying. Seconds later she was in his arms.

Cameron patted her on the back as he gave her a hug.

“It’s going to be okay, honey. She’s alive, and that’s a damn miracle in itself.”

Sarah grabbed his wrist. “Is it bad? Tell me the truth. Did she get worse? I’ve been scared through this whole freaking trip, afraid I wouldn’t get here in time, and at the same time, afraid to get here and learn the whole truth.”

“Come sit,” Cameron said, and filled her in on the extent of Laura’s injuries, then glanced at the clock. “The next visitation is at 2:00 a.m. You take it.”

When he suggested visiting Laura, she almost panicked, afraid of what she would see.

“We can’t go in together?”

“They do allow two visitors at a time, but I’ve been in several times already. She asked about you, and her attention span is brief, so having two of us there will only be confusing. You go alone, and once you see her, you’ll feel better, I promise.”

Sarah smiled through tears. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to our family. I hope you plan on staying around for a very long time.”

Cameron managed a lopsided grin. “It’s definitely my plan, but Laura has the last word on that, doesn’t she?”

“You’re a shoo-in,” Sarah said.

“Want some coffee, or something to eat?” Cameron asked, using the mundane question to hide how moved he was by her words.

“Coffee would be wonderful.”

“Black, right?”

“Yes, please.”

He got up for another trip to the snack machines, and came back with coffee and a bag of M&M’s.

“I seem to remember this is a favorite in the candy dishes at your house,” he said.

“Thank you so much,” she said, took a quick sip of the coffee and then tore into the candy and popped a couple in her mouth.

Cameron answered a new text, giving Sarah some space while she ate.

When the candy was gone, she settled back with the coffee, holding it between her palms as welcome warmth.

“Cameron?”

He dropped the phone in his pocket and looked up.

“Was it bad at the crash site?” she asked.

He grimaced. “Yes, and you need to know two things. There were wolves trying to get into the wreckage, probably from day one. She’s still dreaming about them.”

Sarah clasped a hand over her mouth, too horrified to speak.

“The other thing is that she saved her own life. She managed to tend to her injuries with next to no supplies and kept herself warm enough not to succumb to hypothermia. She is one tough, amazing woman, and I am in awe.”

Sarah was crying all over again. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say, but you needed to understand what she’s been through before you go in there. Her two coworkers died, as did the pilot.”

Sarah nodded. “Yes, I know and I agree. I’m just overwhelmed by everything.”

“Believe me, I understand,” Cameron said.

“I need to go wash off the tears and fix my face before I go in. Excuse me for a few minutes.”

“Good plan,” he said, and settled back onto the sofa.

When it was time, he walked Sarah to the area where she needed to wait.

“I’ll be in the waiting room when you come back.”

“Thanks,” she said, and went inside with the others as he walked away.

Sarah paused at the nurses’ desk for her sister’s location before moving past the other patients. She kept her eyes on the floor in front of her without looking at the people within.

She was scared; this holding area between life and death impacted so many others besides the patients themselves. Sooner or later they would leave, some breathing and some not, the latter leaving their families behind to deal with their grief. The common thread among all of them was the number of machines keeping them alive.

When she finally saw Laura she stumbled, then caught herself and kept walking until she was at the bed, pausing a moment to look her fill.

The dried blood staining the bandage on Laura’s scalp was a macabre reminder of what she had endured. The bruises on her face and neck were in coordinating shades of red and purple, and her raspy breathing under the oxygen mask made Sarah anxious. That would be from the pneumonia.

She knew about the stitches in Laura’s leg and the broken ribs, but after learning what her sister had gone through, she wondered if the scars that would last the longest would be the ones that remained unseen.

Aware that her time would be brief, she touched her sister first, then leaned closer and lowered her voice.

“Laura? Honey? It’s me, Sarah. Can you hear me?”

Laura’s eyelids fluttered.

Sarah spoke again.

“I’m here, Laura. Cameron is in the waiting room.”

It seemed Cameron was the magic word. Laura’s eyelids fluttered again, and then she opened them and saw her sister’s face.

“Sarah.”

Sarah cupped Laura’s cheek, then leaned down and kissed her.

“Yes, little sister, I’m here. Are you in pain?”

Laura sighed, winced, then blinked.

“Hurts.”

“I’m so sorry, honey, but you’re going to be okay.”

Laura fumbled for her sister’s hand, needing the contact to give her strength.

“Oh, Sarah, they died...they all died,” she whispered, and then choked on a sob.

“I know, honey, but that’s not your fault.”

Laura’s eyelids felt too heavy to keep open. She let them drop, then suddenly she remembered old horror and they flew open. Her gaze locked on Sarah’s face.

“There were wolves.”

Sarah tightened her hold on her sister’s hand, trying to find a way to ground her in the reality of the present, instead of the past.

“I know, honey. Cameron told me.”

Laura looked toward the exit.

“Cameron?”

“He’s still here. He’s in the waiting room.”

“Love him,” Laura whispered.

“I know you do, sweetheart. He loves you, too.”

“I want to go home,” Laura said.

Sarah smiled. “And you will, when you’re well.”

“Thought I’d never see you again,” Laura said.

In spite of Sarah’s determination not to cry, tears filled her eyes.

“Yes, well, I had the same fear when I first heard the news, but we’ve been blessed.”

“Best sister ever,” Laura said softly. Her eyelids drooped and then closed.

Sarah’s heart was full. She let Laura sleep, knowing rest was the thing she needed most. She said a brief prayer for her healing and left the ICU with the other visitors when time was up.

This time when she walked into the waiting room, there was purpose in her step. She was thankful for Cameron’s presence.

“She looked better than I expected. She knew me and talked to me. It was such a relief.”

Cameron relaxed, glad to know Laura hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

“I know what you mean.”

“I have something to tell you,” she said. “It’s about the reason I was in Canada. I was interviewing for a new opening in my company.”

“Oh, yeah? How did it go?” he asked.

“I got the job.”

Cameron grinned. “That’s great news, Sarah. What will you be doing that’s different from what you do now?”

“For starters, I’ll be director of operations and living in London. I’m supposed to be in residence within the month. I already told them I’d do it before I found out about the crash. Now I don’t—”

Cameron held up a hand. “Stop right there. You have to know I’m going to be there for Laura in every way. This sounds like the job of a lifetime. Don’t let misplaced guilt sideline you, okay?”

She got teary all over again, but she was smiling.

“You are seriously the best thing that’s ever happened to Laura. I hope you know that.”

“It works both ways,” he said, and then looked away so she wouldn’t see his tears.

The next time visiting hour rolled around, they went in together, but as time passed, the stress of travel and worry finally pulled Sarah under, and now she was asleep on the sofa, leaving Cameron back in a chair. People came and went inside the waiting room, but he paid them no mind. He slept sitting up, and by seven in the morning, they were both awake and waiting for Laura’s doctor to make rounds.

Lake Chapala, Mexico

Hot pink jacaranda blooms in the courtyard between the retirement condos drooped in the hot afternoon sun. The teal-blue water in the shared pool was motionless. A red-and-white-striped life preserver was stalled near the middle of the pool, like an off-center belly button. It was siesta, a time to sleep through the hottest hours of the day, giving the aging residents a much-needed respite.

Hershel Inman and his wife, Louise, had always planned to retire to this place. But fate had changed their plans. When Louise died, so had Hershel’s dreams. In a way, he’d died, too, because when he finally moved into the retirement center, it was as retired businessman Paul Leibowitz. After years of enacting his own version of retribution, he’d finally done what he needed to and let go.

He liked condo living and puttering about in the little courtyard just outside his breakfast room. He liked the huge jacaranda blossoms and often floated one in a crystal bowl on his dining room table. He liked to think it gave his condo a feminine touch, something sadly lacking in his life.

He continued the slow process of having scar tissue removed, scheduling yet another surgery in Guadalajara only after he’d sufficiently healed from the previous one.

The elderly couple who lived across the courtyard had become his friends. He had eaten dinner at their home more than once in the past few months, and while he wasn’t much of a cook, he knew he needed to return the favor. He didn’t cook, but he’d acquired quite a taste for the local food and ate out more than in to satisfy his hunger for the spicy dishes.

Hershel rarely thought about the past other than with a sense of satisfaction. He had served his own brand of justice to the powers that be, and that knowledge gave him the ease he needed to get on with his life, and it had obviously given his deceased Louise spiritual rest, since she didn’t talk to him anymore.

It was only at night, when the world was quiet, that his life came back to haunt him. Most of the images were of Hurricane Katrina, of him and Louise clinging to the roof of their house as the floodwaters rose. In the dreams, Louise was in his arms crying for her insulin, begging to be rescued. And the dream always turned into a nightmare, just as life had, with him watching as she slowly slipped into a diabetic coma and died.

Every time he woke up, he was so angry he couldn’t take a breath without thinking he was going to puke. He got out of bed and prowled the house in bare feet, waiting for daybreak by drinking coffee and watching television, doing whatever it took to rebury the memories. By sunrise, copious amounts of caffeine had usually dulled his emotions.

At that point it was Paul who would begin his day with a long walk that always ended up at a local café for breakfast.

* * *

Sarah had stayed for five days and now had been gone for five more. She’d gone back to her job and the chaos of making a move to a foreign country, but it wasn’t until Laura had been moved from the ICU to a private room that she told her sister about the job promotion. To her relief, Laura seemed happy for her, which made everything easier.

In reality, Laura was proud of Sarah but at the same time a little sad she would be living so far away. But as each day passed, Laura grew stronger. Her ribs were healing, the stitches had come out of her leg and her lungs were clear.

She’d heard nurses talking about her imminent dismissal, and was anxious to be home. But the problem now was how to get there. She hadn’t mentioned it to the doctor or said anything to Cameron, but there was an issue that was going to hinder her homecoming. Denver was a long way from Washington, D.C., and she was afraid to get back on a plane, and yet it was something she knew she was going to have to face.

* * *

Cameron came into the hospital room carrying several shopping bags and smiling from ear to ear.

“What’s all this?” Laura asked, as he laid them on her lap and then gave her a quick kiss.

“Clothes. You can’t go home in a hospital gown, and the doctor said tomorrow is the day.”

“You bought me clothes? Ooh, I hope they fit.”

“Oh, they fit. I asked Sarah your sizes. She bought you underwear before she left, and I did the rest.”

“I can’t believe it!” Laura said, and began looking through the bags. “I love this sweater. It’s so soft, and it’s pink—one of my favorite colors. It will look great with these gray slacks. Oh, Cameron, you even got shoes and socks. These half boots will be perfect. Is there still snow?”

“Not here, but there is back home,” he said as he pulled the last two items out of a larger sack.

One was a winter coat made of soft gray wool, the other a small duffel bag to pack her things. The smile on her face warmed his heart.

“Cameron, I adore you! You’re the best. You thought of everything.”

He grinned. “I have us booked on a 2:00 p.m. flight tomorrow afternoon. It’s a nonstop straight into D.C. We’ll be home in time for dinner.”

When the smile froze on her face, he knew something was wrong.

“What is it, honey?”

She clutched his hand, her voice trembling.

“I’m scared to death to get back on a plane.”

He groaned inwardly. How stupid of him not to realize.

“I didn’t think. I’m sorry. I can rent a car and drive you back, but it will be a rough trip, and it will take days. Some of the roads are snow packed.”

“No, no car. I’ll get on the plane, but I need you to know I might freak out.”

He frowned. “The doctor can prescribe something for you to take. It will be okay. I’ll be right beside you all the way.”

She nodded, her eyes tearing again. “I know, and I’m sorry. But it is what it is.”

“You do not need to apologize. Anyone in their right mind would feel the same. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll take care of the meds and everything else.”

“Okay,” she said, and then made herself change the subject. “What’s in that one?” she asked, pointing to a bag at the foot of her bed.

He handed it to her. “It’s another pair of pants and a heavy sweater. I wanted you to have choices.”

All of a sudden her eyes were swimming with tears.

“What, honey? What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“I was just thinking about Marcy and Dan, and the pilot. I get to go home, and they’re dead and buried.”

He dropped the sack and took her in his arms. Her hair, still damp from her morning shower, clung to his cheek as he held her. She was trembling and weepy, and he wished this could be fixed with a kiss and a hug, but it couldn’t. After a few moments he leaned back and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

“I’m very sorry about your friends, but I’m grateful beyond words that you survived. You have no idea how frightened Sarah and I were when we got the news.”

Laura leaned into his embrace.

“I can imagine. I am so tired of crying, and I’m very thankful that I’m still here, too, but some days it still overwhelms me.”

“How do you feel about Sarah moving to London?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Happy for her. This is what she’s been working toward.”

“You’ve still got me,” he said.

A crooked smile shifted the somber expression off her face. “I’m not about to forget that.”

“Good, because when we get home, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

“What?” she asked.

He grinned. “Not until we get home.”

Her eyes widened. “Is it a secret?”

“It won’t be after we have that discussion.”

She groaned. “Seriously, Cameron, you can’t just drop such a loaded comment and then make me wait to find out what it is.”

He grinned again.

When she realized he wasn’t going to budge, she shrugged.

“At least I’ll have another reason to want to get on that plane tomorrow. The sooner we get back, the sooner I find out the big secret.”

Cameron was thinking about that engagement ring in his safe at home and the Valentine dinner that never happened. Sarah was moving out. Maybe it was time for him to move in.

Four

An airport attendant pushed Laura and her wheelchair through the airport, with Cameron about a step and a half ahead, parting the crowd for them to pass.

They’d checked their luggage at curbside and were traveling light on their way to the boarding gate. Laura’s new coat and purse were in her lap, giving her something stable to hold on to, pushing her fear of the flight down to a level just below screaming. As they approached yet another shop on the concourse, Cameron slowed down.

“Hey, honey, it’s almost an hour until takeoff. Do you want something to read, or some snacks to take with us?”

Laura’s stomach was rolling. The thought of food made her want to throw up.

“No. Better not,” she said. “I feel kind of queasy already.”

“I have the meds your doctor gave you for traveling. You’re going to be fine.” He stopped the attendant. “Please, wait here a second. I’m going to get her some pretzels. Something salty might help.”

The attendant wheeled up to the storefront, then parked her out of the line of traffic as Cameron went inside the store.

Laura watched, noting his confident stride and the way he had of slipping in and out of the moving crowd, grabbing snacks, magazines and a couple of bottles of water. When he turned around to look at her and caught her watching, he winked, which made her smile. Just for a moment, the fear within her settled. She didn’t have words for how much she loved him.

A few minutes later he was back, and then they were off, negotiating the crowds, the rise and fall of conversations as they passed different gates, the continual announcements of arrivals and departures.

Anxiety returned with a vengeance. God, oh, God, she couldn’t believe she was about to do this.

All of a sudden Cameron’s hand was on her shoulder, as if he’d sensed she was already freaking out.

“Get out the meds the doctor gave you,” he said, and she did. He handed her a bottle of water as she popped them in her mouth and washed them down, then packed it back up. “Just breathe easy,” he said softly.

She closed her eyes and nodded, but it was easier said than done. Minutes later they were at the gate. Before she could wrap her head around their imminent departure, early boarding for those needing extra time was announced.

Cameron caught the frantic look on her face and took her hand.

“Laura, sweetheart, just close your eyes and picture home.”

And so she did, flooding her mind with images of the way sunlight came through the front window of her house in the afternoon and through the blue glass dish that had belonged to her great-grandmother Jewel. She thought of how the hardwood floors took on an amber gleam just after they were cleaned, and how the chime of the grandfather clock at the end of the hall reminded her of her childhood, counting off the hours until bedtime.

Her eyes were still closed when they handed the attendant their boarding passes. As they entered the jet bridge, fear of what she was about to do made her lose the connection to home. The inside of the covered walkway smelled of plane fuel and cold air. When the ramp began to slope downward, she felt the slight pull of gravity and panicked. It felt just like the plane had when it began to go down. She whimpered slightly and leaned forward, bracing herself for impact.

Cameron frowned. He didn’t know what was going through her mind, but he could tell it was bad. Her knuckles were white and her body was shaking.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”

She could hear voices. People were talking and laughing, nothing like what she’d heard before. No praying. No crying. She took a breath and finally looked. There was a family of three in front of them: a man, a woman and a small child in a stroller. It cleared the emotional confusion but not the fear.

The closer they got to the plane, the colder the air became. When they reached the end of the ramp, she had to stand up. The attendant stood aside with the wheelchair while the family in front of them folded up the stroller and tagged it for baggage. These were all simple ordinary tasks. She could do this.

And then she glanced toward the plane, saw tiny flakes of snow blowing in through a small gap by the open door and grabbed Cameron’s arm, her voice mirroring the panic she felt as she said, “It’s snowing.”

Cameron nodded. “Just tiny little flakes. Look, there’s nothing on the ground. It’s okay, honey. Just take my hand.”

“You go first,” she begged.

He stepped into the plane and paused, waiting for her to step across. He could see the horror in her eyes as she looked down.

“Look at me, honey. Don’t look down. Look at me.”

Their gazes locked, and she stepped in.

“Is everything all right?” a flight attendant asked, eyeing Laura.

“It will be,” Cameron said.

He’d gotten tickets in first class, knowing she was going to need all the pampering and room she could handle just to make the trip, then led her a few steps to their seats.

The flight attendant took their coats as Cameron got Laura settled in the window seat and buckled her up.

“You’ve already taken your pills, so you’ll feel easier soon,” he said, then gave her a brief kiss of reassurance as he settled into the seat beside her.

His lips were warm and gentle. He was familiar. She was safe. It was going to be all right.

She glanced out the window at the ground crew loading luggage and remembered opening all the suitcases inside their plane and using the clothes she found to stay warm. If it happened again, she wouldn’t be able to get to the luggage this time, because it was in the belly of the plane. Maybe there would be enough clothing in the carry-on bags. And then she caught herself.

What was she doing? The plane wasn’t going to crash. She had already had her plane crash and lived through it. Surely God didn’t let things like that happen twice.

A flight attendant stopped by their seats.

“Can I get either of you something to drink?” she asked.

Startled, Laura almost jumped, then focused on the question.

“Coffee? Could I have coffee? I can’t seem to stay warm today.”

“Certainly,” the attendant said, then looked at Cameron. “How about you, sir? Anything to drink?”

“Coffee is fine,” he said, and then turned his attention to Laura again as the attendant walked away. “It will be a while till they finish boarding and we pull away from the gate, but the meds will kick in before then. Do you want to go to the bathroom before we take off?”

She nodded and unbuckled her seat belt.

Cameron stood up, then helped her back up the aisle.

“She needs the restroom,” he said.

As Laura went in and locked the door, the flight attendant glanced at the bathroom, and then at him.

“Is she okay? Is she not feeling well?”

He flashed his FBI badge and then dropped it back in his pocket.

“She’s not sick. She’s scared.”

The attendant acknowledged the badge as she smiled sympathetically.

“Ah, is this her first flight?”

“No, but this is her first flight since a crash.”

The pilot was standing in the doorway to the cockpit, listening. When he heard that, he frowned.

“What crash was that?” he asked.

“Two weeks ago. A private jet went down in the mountains outside of Denver,” Cameron said softly.

“Ah, damn, I heard about the crash and that there was a survivor.”

“She’s the one,” Cameron said.

The bathroom door opened. Laura came out, then paused, a little startled by the people grouped in the aisle.

The attendant’s smile was just a little wider, and the pilot nodded his head.

“Welcome aboard, ma’am.”

Laura blinked, then glanced at Cameron. He pointed up the boarding ramp.

“Here come the regular passengers. We’d better get back in our seats.”

Immediately after they were seated, the attendant had coffee on their trays and was back at the doorway, welcoming passengers aboard.

Laura took a quick sip and then glanced at Cameron.

“You told them, didn’t you?”

He shrugged.

She sighed. “It’s okay. If I freak out later, maybe they won’t throw me off the plane.”

“If you get scared, just grab my hand. If that doesn’t help, maybe we can make out a little to keep you otherwise occupied.”

She laughed, picturing that happening in full view of a planeload of strangers.

He grinned. The foolishness of the remark did the trick. Now having sex with him was on her mind instead of flying.

The passengers filed past, some looking longingly at the first-class seats, others just anxious to get in and get settled. And then fate played a cruel joke.

The boarding line stalled, and people standing in line were getting impatient while a flight attendant tried to iron out a conflict back in coach between two people claiming the same seat. Voices were raised, and everyone was craning their necks, trying to see what was going on.

Cameron was sending a text, and Laura was looking at a magazine when she heard someone say her name.

“Laura? Laura Doyle? Is that you?”

Cameron looked up and then quickly glanced at Laura. She looked rattled, and his first instinct was to intervene; then Laura laid down her magazine and gave the middle-aged brunette a quick glance.

“Oh, hello, Tessa. Small world.”

“Oh, my God! I never imagined I would see you here. I can’t believe you’ve got the guts to fly again after what happened to you, what with everyone dying and all.”

Every passenger within hearing distance turned around to look.

A muscle jerked near Laura’s right eye. “Technically, everyone didn’t die, Tessa, because I’m still here.”

Cameron’s seat belt clicked, then slipped to the side as he stood up, which instantly removed Laura from the woman’s line of vision. His voice was soft, but his intent was firm, and there was no mistaking how pissed he was.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but that was an insensitive remark and best left unspoken, if you get my drift.”

Tessa frowned as she lifted her chin, challenging his disapproval.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are, but she’s my friend. We were at a conference together a few weeks ago. We were all horrified when we heard about the crash, and I wanted to wish her well.”

He smiled, but it never reached his eyes.

“I don’t know you, either, but just for the record, I’m the man who rocks her world, and I did not hear you wish her well. What I heard coming out of your mouth was morbid curiosity.”

Someone snickered at the back of the line.

Tessa glared.

Cameron didn’t budge.

The line began to move.

Cameron continued to stand, smiling politely until Tessa finally gave in, and the situation was resolved. Only then did he sit back down.

Laura was pale and teary as he reached for her hand. He grinned wryly, trying to ease the shock.

“We should have bought a lottery ticket today. Wonder what the odds were of something like that happening?”

She sighed. “Thank you.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles, then winked and leaned close to her ear.

“Ready for that make-out session yet?” he whispered.

She rolled her eyes but smiled, which was his intent.

I love you, she mouthed silently.

He kissed the side of her face. “I love you most,” he whispered, then leaned back, turned off his phone and buckled up. “Is your phone off?” he asked.

“It’s dead,” she said, and then looked horrified at what she’d just said. “I mean, it needs to be recharged.”

He frowned. “Look, honey, that word doesn’t hold any special power. It does not have to be purged from your vocabulary.”

Her eyes narrowed angrily. “I hate this. I hate what happened. I hate that my friends are gone. I hate being afraid.”

“I know, and I hate it for you, but nothing can change what happened.”

She looked out the window without answering, then angrily pulled the shade down.

He let her be. It wasn’t enough that she’d been rattled by the flight, but the universe had thrown in a brainless “friend” to boot.

Then all of a sudden they were backing away from the gate, and Laura’s focus shattered. She clutched the armrests so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

Cameron grabbed her hand.

“Laura, look at me.”

She turned her head.

“Lean back, take a deep breath and hold on to me. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

She did as he asked without arguing, but she knew better. It wasn’t possible to make promises like that. Not when fate was in charge.

The plane began to taxi. She moaned beneath her breath and closed her eyes, focusing on the strength of Cameron’s grasp. By the time the plane was cleared for takeoff she was crying without making a sound.

Cameron was sick at heart for what she was going through, but he had no way to make it better. It was a blessing when the pills finally took effect and she fell asleep.

* * *

They served food an hour into the flight, but Laura was still sleeping. Cameron ate lightly, paying more attention to her than his tray, and was glad when the attendant took it away.

He got up once to go to the bathroom and asked the attendant to stand watch until he returned. He was on his way back when the plane hit rough air. The flight attendant headed for the intercom as the seat belt sign came back on. Just as he got to his seat and buckled in, the ride became rougher.

Laura woke up with a gasp, the sensation of déjà vu so horrifying, she turned to look for Marcy. Instead, she saw Cameron reaching for her.

“What’s happening?” she gasped.

“Just rough air, baby. No big deal. It’s happened plenty of times before, right?”

She heard his voice but couldn’t focus enough to understand the words. She covered her face and bent forward, ready for impact.

Cameron knew she was only seconds away from screaming when he unlocked their seat belts and pulled her into his lap.

The passengers around them looked sympathetic. They’d heard enough during boarding to understand what was happening, but the moment she was in his lap the flight attendant was on her feet.

Cameron had his arms wrapped around her so tightly that she couldn’t move, her head tucked beneath his chin. He kept his voice low, but the urgent cadence in his voice was obvious.

“Laura, listen to my voice. We’re not going to crash. The plane is safe. You’re safe. Open your eyes. Look at where you are.”

She couldn’t hear him.

“No, no, the wolves will come. Watch out for the wolves.”

Cameron grabbed her face and made her look at him.

“Look at me, baby. Look at me. There are no wolves here. They’re gone.”

Laura blinked, saw her own reflection in Cameron’s eyes and then hid her face against his chest. She was shaking so hard she could barely breathe, but Cameron had arrested her free fall, and the scream in the back of her throat dwindled to a moan.

The flight attendant was beside them now, frowning, but Cameron couldn’t have cared less.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but she can’t sit in your lap. You have—”

Cameron interrupted. “Either you find a belt extender and buckle us up together, or she has an emotional meltdown and starts screaming. It’s not going to help in this rough weather for everyone on this plane to hear a bloodcurdling scream and you know it.”

The flight attendant spun and dashed toward the galley. She came back moments later with two belt extenders, fastened them together and then belted both of them in.

Cameron nodded. “Thank you. If I can have some water, I’ll get her to take some more meds. As soon as she’s calm, I’ll buckle her back into her own seat. I promise.”

Once again the attendant headed back to the galley while Cameron managed to slip his hand into his pants pocket. Laura had wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly it was hard to breathe, but he wouldn’t have pushed her away, even if it meant giving up his last breath. The moment he got the pill bottle out of his pocket, it slipped out of his hand and rolled backward down the aisle and into coach seating.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

“I’ve got it,” he heard someone say, and moments later footsteps came up behind him. “Here you go.”

Cameron looked up into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen set in a face wreathed with wrinkles and framed with short curly hair in flyaway gray.

“Thank you so much, ma’am,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” the little woman said, then patted Laura on the shoulder. “Sugar, the only thing you have to fear sitting in this pretty man’s lap is that he might put you down. If I was thirty years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”

Cameron chuckled, and Laura felt the rumble beneath her ear. That was a happy sound. No one would be happy if they were going to crash.

Cameron shook two pills out into his hand just as the attendant came back with the water, and set it in the cup holder near his elbow.

“Please, get her back in her seat as soon as possible,” the attendant said.

Cameron understood she was doing her job, but so, by God, was he.

“Laura, honey...look at me. You need to take your pills.”

Laura shuddered, so afraid that, if she opened her eyes, she would wake up back in that plane in her nest and hear wolves digging outside in the snow.

“Are you sure the wolves aren’t here?” she whispered.

Cameron sighed. “No, honey. No wolves.”

The woman across the aisle from them was purposefully staring at the magazine in her lap, but it was obvious from the tears rolling down her cheeks that she was locked in to their ongoing drama.

The man in the seat in front of them turned around and gave Cameron a quick sympathetic look. Even the flight attendant came back with a different attitude as she put a blanket across Laura’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” she said as she tucked it around her and then moved down the aisle, checking to make sure the other passengers had fastened their seat belts.

It was the warmth of the blanket and Cameron’s reassuring voice that finally pulled Laura back into reality.

“I did it, didn’t I? I freaked. Oh, my God, I am so sorry.”

Cameron shook his head. “No apology needed, darlin’. Just take these pills for me, okay?”

She put them in her mouth and took a big drink before leaning back in his arms. She didn’t talk. There wasn’t anything she could say that would make this choking horror go away.

He pulled the blanket closer around her and then rested his chin on the top of her head, waiting for the moment when the tension left her body. By the time her panic had disappeared, the flight had also smoothed out.

He gave her a quick hug. “You ready to get back in your seat?”

“After I go to the washroom,” she whispered.

“Absolutely,” he said, and undid the seat belt.

She slid off his lap, then stepped over his legs and limped up the aisle with her head down, too embarrassed to look up.

Cameron tucked the belt extenders into the seat pocket in front of him and waited for her to come back.

The door to the bathroom opened, and when Laura emerged he could tell she’d been crying and was heartsick for how hard this was for her.

But then something happened as she started up the aisle.

The woman across the aisle began to clap her hands.

“Bravo to you, honey,” she said.

Then the man in front of them joined in, and then the couple behind them, and by the time Laura got back to her seat the whole front of the plane had joined in the applause.

Cameron stood up and then slipped into the aisle to give her room to get in. Instead, she walked into his arms and hugged him.

“Once again you came to my rescue when I needed you most. Thank you forever,” she said.

He hugged her back and then scooted her in.

“Buckle up before we both get in trouble all over again,” he said.

“We got in trouble?”

He grinned. “It’s a long story best told over a bottle of wine.”

“And in front of a fire, please. I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again.”

Cameron leaned over and kissed Laura squarely on the lips.

“You are the best,” he whispered.

“My mouth feels weird. I could barely feel that kiss,” she said.

He cupped her cheek. “It’s the pills. Go to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when we land.”

She pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, reclined her seat and passed out.

The next thing she knew they were landing.