a clump of snow that attached itself to his neck.
Help me find a way, Lord.
The snow coated his hair now, freezing his coat stiff against his complaining muscles and aching ribs. Dropping down behind a pile of black rock, he found nothing, just a smooth blanket of white. It reminded him of backpacking trips with his big brother, Mark, especially the time Paul broke his foot, diving into a tree trunk hidden in the water, and Mark carried him five miles back to their uncle’s place, cracking jokes all the while. Mark was always quick with a one-liner, even now that they only saw each other across a scarred table in the prison visiting area, but Paul saw the pain in his brother’s eyes.
The question that haunted him daily surfaced in his mind. Would things have been different if Mark hadn’t been exposed to his uncle’s cavalier attitude toward alcohol at a vulnerable time in his life?
You’re a physician, Paul. You know that alcoholism is a disease that can affect people anywhere, anytime, regardless of the situation. Still, if his father hadn’t left them…if Uncle Lyman hadn’t turned a blind eye to Mark’s drinking…
If, if, if.
None of it would change a thing. The indisputable fact was, Mark was driving the car that hit Bruce Lambert and the kids, and he had been drinking. For all his protestations that another car had been involved, the police could not find evidence to support Mark’s claim. Their case was cut-and-dried. Mark drove drunk. He plowed into the Lamberts’ car. He was guilty of manslaughter.
And the other indisputable fact was that Paul had loaned the car that morning to his brother, thinking that this time, finally, his brother really had sobered up.
A piece of rock came loose in Paul’s hand and he threw it savagely as far as he could. He didn’t even hear it land. Biting back the frustration, he shook the snow from his hair and started to climb back up to search in another direction, when he noticed a hole cut into the rock, about four feet across. Icicles hung from the rim, like jagged teeth.
With nothing to lose, Paul kicked at the icicles to break them off and stuck his head into the opening. Blinking to be sure he was not the victim of a hallucination, he peered into the gloom again before he said a silent thank-you and headed back to the others. Finally, one small thing had gone right.
Maddie saw the snow deepening around her, but she could not feel it. Her body was numb from the inside out, with a bitter cold that had nothing to do with the elements. In the distance, the plane crackled and hissed, as if it hid some creature living out its last breath.
Last breath.
Last hope.
She was trapped in a surreal nightmare. The marvelous machine that would save her father was lying crushed underneath a half ton of twisted wreckage. She wanted to be angry at the pilot for letting them crash, at Jaden and Paul for not saving the heart; but deep down she knew they were not to blame.
Each breath caused a pain that cut her open inside.
The harsh truth was, she could have gone to get the heart, but her need to find Paul drove her to him instead. If she had put her father first, as he had done for her all her life, she would have gotten the device off the plane before it exploded.
Could it be true? Had she really sacrificed her father’s life for Paul? The man who already held responsibility for letting her nieces die? Paul, Paul, Paul. He was the center of all her pain, and now there was no chance that she would ever be able to rebuild the tattered remnants of her life.
She felt herself sliding to the ground. Snow crunched under her as she collapsed on hands and knees, her palms punching down through the iced crust. There should have been tears, rivers of them, flowing hot down her face, but there were none. There was no way to release the terrible agony she felt, not a single tear left to ease the pain.
A hand took her arm and pulled her up. Tai Jaden stood over her, brows drawn together, saying something. But she couldn’t understand him through the wind and the emotion howling through her body.
She didn’t want to go with him, but he moved her anyway, until she found herself sitting on a pile of luggage.
“Watch her,” Jaden told Dr. Wrigley. “I’m going to see what Paul found.”
Dr. Wrigley eyed her uneasily as his fingers moved over the keys on his phone. “No signal still. It’s like we’re at the bottom of a well.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she looked at the fire, still burning, and wondered how long her father had left to live.
“We’ll make it. The rescue crew will find us soon,” Wrigley said.
She wondered if he was saying the words to comfort her or himself. A nod was all she could manage.
When Jaden returned, Paul came with him, cheeks reddened and jacket dusted with snow. He hastened to Maddie.
“There’s a cave back behind those rocks. We’ll have some shelter there until help arrives.”
She looked at him, at the face that had brought her so much hope and joy in the past. A desperate thought took root in her mind. She grasped his hand. “Paul.”
He started and covered her fingers with his, chafing as if to rub some life back into them. “What is it, Mads?”
“Is there a chance, any chance, that we could get another Berlin Heart for my father?”
Paul opened his mouth, then closed it. He squeezed her hand. “There’s always a chance.”
But she saw the truth in his eyes. It had taken months of effort on the part of the hospital and her father’s government contacts to obtain one Berlin Heart. People in Europe and the States were vying for the precious few that were produced. Months that Bruce Lambert did not have anymore. Her father’s best hope was entombed in a burning aircraft, a medical marvel with all the hope smashed out of it, just like herself.
She looked away, biting down on her lip until she tasted blood.
He tried to put an arm around her, but she shook him off. She would not take comfort from him, or anyone, ever again.
Dr. Wrigley grabbed a suitcase with his good arm. Jaden and Paul did the same. In a daze, Maddie picked up the bag she’d been sitting on and followed them. Someone helped her over a steep rock and another took the luggage while she ducked under the rounded archway and stepped into the large cave. The ground was clear of snow, covered with rocks from pea-size to boulders. The ceiling rose ten feet above them, glazed and shimmering, as if it had been carved out of ice. It was deep, so deep the far walls were bathed in darkness.
Paul ushered her to the far side, away from the entrance, and urged her to sit on a blanket he’d placed on a piece of luggage. The others did the same, moving together until they were seated in a strange circle, as if they were enjoying a camping trip instead of having just fallen out of the sky.
Jaden looked around. “Ice cave?”
Paul spoke, his breath making steamy trails in the cold air. “Caused by steam, I’d guess. This mountain is volcanic. The rising heat melted these tunnels in the glacial ice. I’d guess there’s a network of them.”
Wrigley sighed. “Too bad it isn’t any warmer than outside.”
