to finish our forecasting work before the sun goes down so there won’t be more victims.”
Cade wanted to stay and help. Isaiah must have sensed his hesitation. “You’re exhausted. We’re exhausted. You did what you could, Cade, and it worked. You saved that woman. There are plenty searching for the guy now. Forecasting the avalanche dangers, which is your primary job, saves lives. You can’t know how many lives, but you have to trust that it does.”
Isaiah’s words encouraged Cade. His friend was right. They had work to finish and he’d be in the office until late again, as it was. “I wanted it to be more.”
“I know you did, man. I know you did. I parked the helicopter over the ridge. Let’s go.”
Cade grabbed his gear and followed Isaiah, trudging through the snow that less than an hour before had turned brutal and lethal. More often than not, they had to cart victims—or bodies—out of the area on snowmobiles and toboggans because there wasn’t any helicopter access. This time they had two helicopters—though Isaiah’s was a single-engine R22—and a survivor. The R22 could only accommodate two passengers, so Cade might have had to wait around or hike down on his own while Isaiah evacuated the survivor if not for the medevac.
Cade still didn’t know her name. Strange that she’d seemed hesitant to tell him what it was. But she’d been through an ordeal and he’d given her the benefit of a doubt.
They topped the ridge and spotted the R22 and the medevac that provided both medical attention and transported mountain rescue teams as necessary.
The woman climbed into the medevac, her ash-blond hair with golden streaks half hidden under the blanket covering her shoulders. When he’d found her, tunneled through to her, he’d been stunned at the blue-green eyes staring back at him—the crystal purity he’d seen there. Like a tomb raider, he’d pulled her from the snow-laden crypt and it was then that he’d noticed the rest of her face. She had a clean, natural look. No makeup hiding flaws. She had an open, honest look—like someone with nothing to hide.
If only he could believe it were true. She’d winced when he’d asked her about the other person with her; denied she’d known anything about another victim. She’d been hiding something.
He hated the images that accosted him at that moment. Images of his fiancée with another man. They’d been caught in a situation that required a rescue, revealing her deception. Cade had been devastated that day. Even now his heart was still too strung out to think about loving again and he couldn’t stop himself from looking at this woman with suspicion.
Normally he wouldn’t concern himself too much with whether or not someone he’d helped was deceiving him. After all, it wasn’t as though he usually knew any of them well. It wasn’t until a victim teetered on the precipice between this life and the next that Cade met them, which only made sense. But then he never saw them again. He liked it that way. Better to keep his distance. He’d rescued them. End of story. They didn’t need him anymore anyway.
His throat twisted tight. He couldn’t understand why he didn’t want this to be the last time he saw this woman. Then again it had been too long since he’d rescued someone buried alive in an avalanche. Too long since he’d seen a positive outcome. Maybe that explained it.
With no relatives or friends to call, she had that proverbial deer-in-the-headlights look about her. Well, who wouldn’t after being buried alive? But Cade couldn’t shake the sense that she was afraid, scared of something or someone that had nothing at all to do with the avalanche.
He had a feeling he wasn’t done with this rescue.
Cade trudged forward and chided himself. He was probably reading way too much into things. He was tired and distracted and too suspicious for his own good. He tugged his gloves off. At the very least, Cade would deliver her home. Wherever that was.
He grabbed Isaiah’s arm as the medevac rotors started up. “Nothing personal, but you mind if I ride with them?”
“Instead of with me? Thought we were going to finish the assessments?”
“I think we’ve done all the assessments we’re going to do of the mountain today. You have about enough time before dusk to fly back to the center. Anyway, the avalanche gives us a good assessment of the instability. I’ll do the reports back at the center, so you don’t have to.”
Isaiah saluted and gave a crooked grin. “Have it your way. So, what is your evaluation of the instability?”
“The danger is high.”
“I need to get a brief medical history, ma’am.” The medic sat next to Leah inside the helicopter. “Take your vitals again. They’ll do a full assessment at the hospital. Your name and age?”
“Twenty-nine.” She didn’t want to give her name; didn’t want it surfacing in the computer system. She wanted to be invisible. To disappear. “But I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
He frowned, but didn’t push her on that or her name. He went through a list of questions, which she answered, portraying a healthy medical history. When he cuffed her for blood pressure, Leah sighed.
Please, just leave me alone.
She needed space. Time to think about what had happened. About what to do next. She inhaled a breath to calm the turmoil rising inside.
I’m alive.
She should be grateful for small things. For this moment. That she was alive, thanks to God. And to the man who had believed he’d find someone beneath the snow on a backcountry strip of a lost canyon.
“Looks good.” The medic packed his equipment away. “Still, you should go to the hospital for a complete exam. Make sure I didn’t miss anything. Internal bleeding or a concussion could be serious.”
“Thanks. I’m fine.”
He promised to return in a few minutes and hopped from the helicopter.
Maybe he was going to check on the other victim. See if the helicopter was free to whisk her off the mountain. Had they recovered Snyder? Leah’s heart stammered at the thought of Snyder, alive or dead. The whole situation filled her with fear.
She strapped herself into the seat, as though it would protect her from whatever would come of it all, the events of the past few hours—past few days—blowing through her thoughts and twisting into a tight knot. For this moment in time—this one moment—she was safe inside this helicopter.
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
The deafening whir of the medevac’s blades started up. A familiar voice resounded over the obnoxious sound. Leah opened her eyes to see Cade—the man had stepped from her thoughts into the helicopter. He sent an assessing glance her way and spoke to the pilot, who nodded. Cade closed the door and took the seat next to her, strapping in. A few moments later the medic climbed aboard and sat next to the pilot.
Cade looked at her, that concerned yet calm, soothing expression she’d seen when he was digging her out now gone, replaced by something she couldn’t read. “Hi.”
“Hi,”
