of remaining daylight.
Aubrey stumbled and went down in the snow on the edge of the clearing where his Cessna was. He turned to her and lifted her up, snow all over her parka, face and head covering. Drawing her toward him, David brushed his gloved hand across her cheeks and forehead. The urgency of their situation heightened a connection with her. Any earlier anger was gone, replaced with worry on her face.
She attempted a smile that faded almost instantly. “Sorry. My legs feel like two pieces of lead.”
“I know.” He wished he could do more to reassure her they would be all right. At the moment he wasn’t sure. He held her for a few seconds while she regained her balance. “Okay?”
She nodded, and her gaze bound to his. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll make it to your plane.”
David grinned, determined to make it back to Anchorage with her. “Good. Make sure you follow exactly behind me.” He emerged first into the clearing and headed for his plane at the other end.
Halfway there, he glanced over his shoulder to check on Aubrey. Her resolve battled deepening lines of exhaustion. But she kept going, and his admiration of her rose with each step.
The falling snow increased. What light they had was dimming quickly.
“I’m going to hurry ahead and ready the plane for takeoff so when you arrive we can go,” David said, then quickened his pace.
David walked around the Cessna and checked what he needed, then climbed into the cockpit as Aubrey reached the plane. She hoisted herself into the passenger seat in front and shivered as she shut the door.
The storm clouds released even more snow as the minutes ticked away and he prepared for takeoff. After starting the engine, David threw her a look. “This may be a bumpy ride and a steep ascent, but we have enough room to make it over the trees.”
“I won’t be sorry to leave this place.” She laid her head against the seat and closed her eyes.
David took off and skated just above the treetops at the end of the clearing. He blew out a long breath, wishing he could relax. It was impossible with the wind battering the plane. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he flew toward Anchorage, ahead of the storm, he hoped.
Before radioing the airport in Anchorage, he slid a glance toward Aubrey. Her head slumped to the side; exhaustion must have taken over. Good. After what she’d gone through the past twenty-four hours, he didn’t want her to see his worry about this leg of their journey.
* * *
The line of trees on the shoreline rushed toward Bree as the plane slid across the ice-covered lake. She squeezed her eyes closed and braced for the impact, unable to do anything but pray.
A bump jolted Bree awake, and her eyes flew open. Darkness surrounded her, and for a few seconds, she didn’t know where she was. She sat up straight, her muscles locked into place, and blinked at the lit-up controls in front of her. She was safe. It had been a dream. A flashback, she corrected.
Then the plane hit another rough patch, bouncing her up and into the door.
“Sorry about that. The storm is on our tail, but we’re almost to Anchorage. We’ll be fine.”
David Stone’s deep voice, full of assurance, came to her, calming her racing heartbeat. She peered at him, his strong profile thrown into the shadows caused by the darkness and the illuminated control panel. She couldn’t forget his eyes—like slate-gray storm clouds—that had locked on her face when he’d removed his goggles at the snow cave. One look and she’d known she would be all right.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“About an hour.”
As snow and ice pelted the glass, she twisted around and stared out the window at the sky behind them. When she turned back, she saw some ground lights up ahead. “Anchorage?”
“Yes. The airport is closed to outgoing traffic but not to incoming. They have one runway they’re keeping clear as much as possible. But the front end of the storm has already dumped a few inches on the area, with more to come.”
A shudder rippled down Bree’s body. “I hate to think how long I would have been at the wreck if you hadn’t come to get me when you did.” Then she remembered the men from the helicopter. “For some reason I don’t think those guys who came when we left were there to rescue me or Jeremiah.” She turned her full attention on David, whose square jaw was set in a firm line. “So why did they come?”
“I suppose they could have thought Jeremiah was carrying a cargo and intended to rob him.”
“He brought some winter supplies to the village, but all he had in the cargo hold on the way back to Anchorage were two seals the Alaskan natives are allowed to hunt.”
“And you.”
“Yes. Jeremiah has flown me for the past—” A knot lodged in her throat making her voice raspy. She cleared it. “For the past couple of years since I became what I call an itinerant doctor. He told me when he started he did it because my dad would have wanted him looking out for me.” Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked. A couple rolled down her cheeks. “I’m going to miss him. He lived next door to me, so we saw each other every day when we both were in town.”
“Does he have any family? I’ve never heard him mention anyone but you. He was glad you were here in Alaska.”
“No, my family was all he had.” She barely choked out the last part as she thought of Christmas at the end of the month without Jeremiah. Without her parents, she realized she didn’t have any immediate family close by anymore. “He and Dad were best friends from childhood. They both grew up here.”
“So you’ve been living here all your life?” He looked toward her, and their gazes linked for a few seconds.
Bree stared into his gray eyes. In stark contrast to his black hair, eyebrows and lashes, their light color pulled her in and held her captive. Her mouth went dry, and her pulse rate spiked.
Finally he dragged his attention back to flying the plane, and she answered, “Except when I went to medical school. I returned to do my internship and residency here, though. Alaska is my home. I went to school in Oklahoma, where my mother’s family lives. It sure was hot there. That’s not for me. Even after four years I couldn’t get used to the heat.”
“Try the desert. I had several tours in places where temps rose to a hundred and twenty. That made me long for the time I spent stationed in Alaska. When I retired, I decided to come back and haven’t regretted the decision.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I was a pilot in the air force, and when I retired last year, I came back to Alaska. A good friend started Northern Frontier Search and Rescue and had to step down because of family obligations in the lower forty-eight. He asked me if I was interested in taking over. I wasn’t sure, but after a few months shadowing him, I knew this was what I wanted to do.”
She tried to remember what little she had heard about him from Jeremiah. At the moment all she could recall was the respect that Jeremiah had for David Stone. “Do you have family here?”
“No.
