a survivor.
Two minutes...
Cade hoped to be a hero today, even though he’d never live up to his father’s reputation. Pulse pounding, he reined in his chaotic thoughts, shut out the fear and panic. Stayed focused on the tried-and-true rescue strategies that worked.
Heart bursting, he assembled his probe—an eight-foot collapsible rod. He drove it into the packed snow, hoping to feel something—someone—beneath the surface. He kept searching and probing until finally the probe hit what felt like pay dirt only a few feet down.
A few feet and not ten or twelve or twenty.
God, please...
He tossed his probe to the man who’d witnessed the avalanche. “Start probing for the other victim.”
Cade’s breath hitched as he thrust the shovel into the snow, hoping he’d made the right decision to send the other man away. Then Isaiah appeared by Cade’s side and helped with the digging.
Within a couple of feet they reached a hand.
Thirty seconds left on the clock and counting...
Sweat poured from Cade in spite of the cold, in spite of the fact that he was in top physical condition for his job. Together, he and Isaiah created a tunnel into the snow, searching for the face that connected to the hand. No time to stop to check for a pulse when seconds counted.
There!
“Establish an airway, stat!”
They dug the snow out and away from the pinched features of a young woman so that she could breathe. Vivid blue-green eyes blinked up in surprise and relief, sending his heart into his throat. She was still alive—though he wasn’t done saving her yet. If they didn’t free her completely and soon, she could still die in her icy grave from hypothermia or internal bleeding. Also, Cade couldn’t forget she hadn’t been alone.
“You search for the other victim. I’ve got this,” Cade told Isaiah. “I could only get one beacon signal, though.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I can dig her out.” But he couldn’t tolerate letting someone die when they could save both victims. Even though they’d passed the first fifteen minutes, victims had been known to survive up to two hours on rare occasions. For the first time in a long time, Cade was on the scene in time and every choice he made could save.
Or kill.
Isaiah left his side. From his peripheral vision, Cade saw him set his beacon and assemble his probe to search for the other victim. But where had their witness gone?
Great.
Failing to keep track of the witness would be a mark against him within the search and rescue team ranks.
No time to worry about him. Cade stared down into the air tunnel and concentrated on digging out this survivor—fortunate beyond reason—careful to avoid collapsing the tunnel, the only thing keeping her alive.
Leah sucked in a breath, trying to push down the rising panic. Except for her right arm, she couldn’t move her body. But at least she could breathe. She blinked up at her rescuer—warmth and respite spilling from his determined eyes, the fierce green of a country spring in the mountains. Streaks of snow clung to his coffee-colored, wavy hair, and though he looked a little rough around the edges, he wasn’t Snyder—the man who needed her dead.
Relief filled her and overflowed in an exhale accompanied by a few whimpers. She hated the sound, hated the weakness it conveyed. If she were standing right now, her legs would quiver, unable to hold her weight.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m digging you out now.” Though his eyes held an urgent and untempered concern, his smile reassured her. “My name’s Cade, by the way.”
That’s right, keep talking in those soothing tones.
Cade, wearing the usual thick snow-country gloves, breathed hard as he expertly thrust the snow shovel in and around her, moving the iced powder almost as efficiently as a mechanical snowplow. He’d uncovered her torso and had started digging out her legs.
“What’s your name?”
She wasn’t sure what name she could trust him with. She didn’t want anyone to know she was here, much less know her name. Telling this man could put him in danger, too. She’d been hiding in the remote wilderness cabin, in fact, when Detective Snyder had sniffed her out and come to kill her. Panic set in and she glanced around at her limited view. Where was he? Had he been buried, too?
Oh, God, please... But she hated herself for wishing him dead.
“It’s okay if you’re unable to give me your name,” he said.
He probably thought she was in shock. And she was.
“Is there someone I should call? Friends or family?”
“No.” Her cold answer iced over her heart. It wasn’t a lie.
“Can you tell me if you have any pain—how bad it is on a scale of one to ten?”
She felt numb and cold at the same time; stiff, as though rigor mortis had already set in. Oh, no...was she paralyzed? Had the impact broken her back?
With the shifting snow she tried to move her body. Her legs responded. Thank You, God. And there wasn’t any pain.
“No, I don’t think I’m injured. I don’t know.” How could she be sure if something hurt until she was completely free? She felt so numb, she couldn’t really tell.
His chuckle lightened the seriousness of her near death. By the look in his eyes, that had been his intention. She liked his laugh, but it was hard to trust, even in someone who had rescued her.
“Almost there.” He threw the shovel aside and began scooping snow away from her back and legs.
Leah shifted and moved, and the sheer freedom of that act left her with the daunting awareness that she’d almost died on this mountain today—twice. The thought pressed in on her, suffocating her. This man digging her out only knew the half of it.
As she started to climb to freedom, Cade grabbed her and gently lifted her out as though she weighed nothing at all. He then set her to the side, away from the hole that had almost been her tomb.
“You sure nothing’s broken?” He assessed her limbs with practiced skill.
Again she moved her arms and legs. “No, nothing’s broken. Nothing’s crushed inside or I’d be in pain, wouldn’t I?”
He pulled something from a pack—a thermal blanket—and wrapped it around her. Crouched next to her, he wouldn’t stop staring at her, until finally Leah had to look away.
“You’re more fortunate than you know.” The solemn tone of his voice pulled her gaze up.
She
