Crashing Into Jake

by Sara Blackard

  She heard a clicking sound, then Jake’s hands covered hers. “Chloe, it’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

  As he unbuckled her belt, she chanced a glance over at him. He’d turned in his seat, angling his legs toward her. He glanced outside, his demeanor unflustered, calming her as he clicked the buckle free.

  She tore the straps over her head and threw herself into Jake. She didn’t care if it made her desperate, but she needed him to hold her, even if only for a minute. For once, her petite form came in handy as she climbed into his lap and buried her face in his neck.

  The scent of sweat and fear rose from his skin, but with it the soothing scent of pine and citrus. If they’d survived the crash, they could survive the wait for help, especially with Jake here. He hugged her tightly against him. His presence bound all her fears that threatened to tear her to pieces—holding her together.

  Ten

  Jake’s nerves threatened to shred apart and whip away in the wind. He wrapped his arms tighter around Chloe, though the yoke of the plane dug into his side and his leg cramped from the awkward position. They needed to get moving, to get everything they could from the plane to the cabin nestled in the trees before the storm hit. Still, he held her, needing to take a minute to thank God they’d survived and pray that Jake could maintain that status until someone found them.

  “Chloe, we need to get the gear and make our way to that cabin.” He skirted his fingers along her neck, wishing he had a scarf or coat with a hood.

  She nodded and pulled back, a tear hanging on her thick eyelashes. “You were amazing. You landed so softly, like the ground was a pillow.” She blinked, and the tear tracked down her cheek.

  He rubbed his thumb along her soft skin, catching the drop before it fell. “I should’ve known better. That front was colder than I expected.” He trailed his thumb along her jaw. “Now, you …you were the amazing one. Our landing would’ve been a lot worse if you hadn’t seen this open valley. You’re not hurt, are you?”

  She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. “No. What happened? What was that black stuff?”

  “Oil. The air tube must’ve frozen over. The lack of air broke the seal. If you hadn’t found this place to land, the engine would’ve seized.”

  He swallowed down the urge to kiss her and cleared his throat. “Can you crawl back and start unbuckling the cargo straps from the hold? We’ll want to take as much as we can now, before that storm hits. I’m not sure how many trips, if any, I can make before the snow starts really coming down.”

  She nodded and loosened her arms from around his neck. Before she turned to climb to the back of the plane’s cabin, she glanced at him. She opened her mouth, then closed it with a huff. Her face morphed from uncertainty to determination with the set of her delicate jaw and a curt nod. She slid her fingers through his beard and pressed her lips to his in a soft, testing stroke.

  Electricity sparked where her mouth touched his, and he fisted his hands in her coat to keep himself grounded. She pulled away far too quickly for his liking. Could she feel his pulse hammering against her fingertips as she traced them along his neck?

  She stared at his lips, increasing his heart beat even more, then lifted her eyes to his. “Thank you, Jake.”

  He nodded, not sure what she was thanking him for. For crashing the plane? How about that he got them stranded with a winter storm blowing in? The thought galvanized him to get moving.

  “Let’s get going.” His voice tumbled out like boulders down a mountain.

  Her cheeks pinked, but she nodded and climbed over the seats to the back. He couldn’t worry right now if he embarrassed her or not. He needed to call in their location and get them to the cabin.

  With the radio call put in to ATC, Jake pushed open his door and surveyed the ground. The plane had landed flat on its belly with its nose less than a foot from a jumble of rocks. The clouds rolled fast over the mountain ridge, heading toward them. They needed to get everything they could in one trip. He doubted they’d be able to make another.

  He stepped out, sank to his hips in the soft snow, and groaned. He hoped the snowshoes were still in the cargo hold. Trudging his way to the back door, he panted hard while he opened it.

  “Chloe, hand me that cargo net.”

  She’d taken off his huge gloves to work. Her fingers shook and were red as she handed him the net. He nodded to her and laid the net out on top of the snow.

  “Start passing me packs.” Jake pointed to the outdoor packs full of emergency supplies.

  She grabbed the first one and grunted when she couldn’t lift it. She leveraged her legs against the seats and dragged the pack to Jake. He lifted it and plopped it in the middle of the net. He’d probably only be able to haul four of the heavy things at a time.

  “While you’re digging through that stuff, see if there are snowshoes back there.” Jake cringed as Chloe slipped and banged hard against the seat. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Her face reddened as she dragged a third pack over.

  After the fourth pack was in the middle of the net, Jake began weaving and tying ends together so he could pull the bundle. He turned back to the plane to find Chloe’s feet sticking out of the hold. With a whoop, she backed out and held up two pairs of snowshoes in triumph.

  He sighed, his chest expanding with relief. “Awesome. Those will make this easier.”

  She disappeared back into the hold and came out with a backboard. “Could we use this as a sled?”

  Warmth spread out to his fingers. He liked how she thought, trying to look at what they had and how to make it help. She hadn’t whined once, just dug in and pushed through the pain. Even during the crash, she hadn’t screamed or freaked out.

  He smiled widely at her. “That’s a brilliant idea.”

  Her eyes sparkled as she handed it to him. He positioned the heavy load on the backboard and strapped them together the best he could. He leaned on the load and caught his breath.

  When he turned back to the plane, Chloe had grabbed her purse from the seat and a smaller pack from the back. She sat, trying to put on the snowshoes. He climbed into the plane and knocked the snow off his boots.

  After strapping on the snowshoes, he made sure Chloe’s were tight. He gazed out the open door at the long trek to the cabin and prayed for sustained strength. This might be one of the hardest quarter-mile walks he’d ever taken.

  “Ready?” Jake asked.

  She nodded. She looked so petite with his large gloves she’d pulled back on and the pack hanging from her back. Would he be able to keep her safe? He shook off the troubling thought and stepped out of the door. Doubt had no room in his brain right now.

  “This snow is deep. Might be taller than you, which wouldn’t take much,” he said as he helped her out.

  She softly elbowed him in the gut. “Be nice.”

  “It’ll be easier if you follow me, that way you have a bit of a trail.” Jake closed the door to the plane and slung on his backpack.

  “Shouldn’t I break a trail for you?” Chloe put her hand up to block the wind.

  “Honey, you’re so light, I doubt you even need the snowshoes.” He moved to the straps of the makeshift sled. “Besides, I want to go in front just in case there’s a hidden trench or something.”

  “Okay.” Her voice shook, but he ignored it.

  He looped the sled strap over his body and pulled. His feet sank into the ground, but the sled didn’t move. He planted his feet and pulled again, praying his prosthetic stayed where it was supposed to. If he could just get the sled moving, he could drag it all the way. Chloe grunted behind him, and the sled slid toward him. He scrambled to get his feet on top of the snow and keep the mass moving.

  The strap dug into his chest as he strained against the weight. Little by little, they moved toward the cabin. The wind howled down the mountain and pelted them with stinging ice. He ran through what he’d need to do repeatedly in his head like a mantra. They couldn’t reach the cabin fast enough.
Wood, fire, more wood, water, food, more wood.

  A squeak had him turning as he pulled.

  “I’m fine. Keep going,” Chloe called before he could look back.

  She’d stayed right behind him, pushing the sled when it got stuck. Her grunts and gasps floated to him on the wind, but never once had a complaint left her mouth.

  When they were a hundred yards from the cabin, and the snow blew so heavy Jake could hardly see, he unstrapped the net and shouldered the first pack. He could make it faster if he carried them one at a time. He needed to get Chloe inside now, before the storm got worse.

  “Come on.” He motioned her around the sled, then took off for the cabin.

  Her labored breathing kept up with him the entire way. He pushed open the sagging door, tossed his packs into the corner, and turned back for the rest of the gear without even surveying the cabin. Two more trips and everything sat lined along the wall of the one-room cabin. Chloe had swept out the stone fireplace and built a fire with the wood that someone had left.

  “I think something is stuck in the chimney. The smoke isn’t going up.” Chloe leaned into the fireplace and looked up.

  “On it.” Jake headed back outside, grabbing the hatchet Chloe had found in one of the packs.

  He needed to work fast if he wanted to gather enough wood before the storm closed in around them. He found the closest sapling, chopped it down, then trekked back to the cabin. He hefted himself onto the cabin roof and prayed the thing didn’t collapse.

  When he got to the chimney, he leaned over it and hollered down, “Chloe, get out of the way.”

  Taking the thick end of the sapling, he rammed it down the hole until whatever blocked the opening broke free. He tossed the sapling off the roof in front of the door and made his way down. He’d drag that inside, just in case they needed it again. Since Chloe already had a fire going, wood moved up on the importance list.

  He hacked three dead trees down and dragged them to the front of the cabin. Then, he chopped the trees into five-foot sections and loaded them into the cabin. Chloe had a fire roaring and had found a camp pot she’d set with water near the flames.

  The cabin was warm and sparse, barely a twelve-foot square, but that didn’t bother Jake. It would make the space easy to heat. It was old and sagging in one corner, making the door hard to open and close. There were no windows he had to worry about, and with him climbing up on the roof, at least part of it was sturdy. He’d check the rest more closely after he finished his list of things to do. He couldn’t ask for a better place to be stranded in, though, with it tucked into the trees for protection.

  “You all right?” Jake panted out the question.

  She nodded, though worry lingered in her eyes.

  “I’m going to try to get one more load of firewood.”

  “Okay.”

  He turned back out and stomped into the forest. He only got two more trees before the snow swirled so thick he worried he wouldn’t find the cabin if he waited anymore. He’d heard those stories of people dying in a blizzard two feet from safety, simply because they couldn’t find it. He wasn’t about to be one of them. He had a pixie to keep safe.

  He stacked the last of the wood up against the wall and frowned. It wasn’t a lot, but hopefully, it’d be enough to make it through the storm. Then, he would get more.

  “Jake, come and warm up.” Chloe pulled him toward the fire.

  He scanned the cabin, wondering what else needed done. Exhaustion weighed his limbs down. He’d been through the grueling training for the Special Ops team and missions that had taken everything out of him. He knew if he sat, he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

  “Come on.” Chloe tugged his arm again. “We have a mountain of wood, food, water, and medical supplies. There’s nothing that can’t wait to be done. I’m exhausted, so I can’t imagine how you feel. You did ten times as much work as I did.”

  He stared at how the soft light from the fire danced shadows across her face. He lifted his hand and pushed his gloved fingers through her short, curly hair that stuck in all directions from sweat. His ears rang with the rushing of his blood, and the storm that rattled the cabin seemed distant. She was right. He needed to rest.

  He tore off his gloves with his teeth. She took them from him and hung them from the cargo net she’d somehow hung along the wall. Her wet gear dried on hooks she’d fashioned along the netting. She’d been just as busy as he had.

  His fingers fumbled with his zipper, and he huffed at their inability to function. She pushed his hands away and unzipped his coat. He should help her, but his muscles refused to move. She reached for his collar, lifting on her toes and kissing his jaw.

  He grabbed onto her belt loop and stared down at her. His heart thundered in his chest, making him wonder if he was as tired as he thought. He gave a little tug, and she stepped closer.

  He lowered his head and muttered, “You’re so beautiful.”

  He kissed her soft lips that tasted of sugared coffee. She must’ve found the MREs. He tasted her again, wondering if a man could live off kisses alone. Doubtful. But, man, what a way to go. She ran her hands up his neck and into his hair with a sigh. He deepened the kiss, his hand skimming along the skin of her back that her arms, wrapped around his neck, exposed.

  She yelped and grinned against his mouth. “Cold fingers.” She kissed him one more time and took her hands from his hair. “Come on, hero.” She slid his coat from his shoulders. “Let’s get you warmed and something to drink.”

  He leaned down and kissed below her ear. “I’m not cold anymore,” he whispered against her neck.

  “Jake.”

  A gust of wind rattled the house. She jumped away from him and grabbed his coat from where she’d dropped it on the floor. The cold and fatigue from earlier sank back into his bones.

  She wagged her finger at him with a stern look on her face that her smile ruined. “Go sit.”

  She pointed to the fire where a mug still steamed on the floor next to a sleeping bag. He stepped out of his wet snow pants, handed them to her, then sank to the floor. As he drank the hot coffee, he tried to think of what he’d need to do next. His thoughts could only focus on the flicking flames that danced before him and the need to keep Chloe safe, no matter the cost.

  Eleven

  Chloe rummaged through the packs, trying to be as quiet as possible, though with the way the storm raged against the cabin, she could probably bang drums and it wouldn’t make a difference. She glanced at Jake, her heart picking up at the sight of him. Or it could be the memory of his scorching kiss that had her heart racing. She hadn’t needed the fire so badly after that.

  She fanned her face with her hands and got back to work. She’d worried when he took so long to get firewood and the storm’s assault had increased. She’d almost gone and looked for him when he came in half dead on his feet. Just dragging the four hundred-pound packs through the snow should have zapped his energy, but then he chopped down half the forest. She shook her head. And the Army said they couldn’t use him? They were idiots.

  The cabin groaned against a gust of wind that blew through the cracks in the logs and made her shudder. She stilled her hands and stared at the roof, waiting for it to collapse on her. As glad as she was to not be stuck out in the plane, she wondered if the cabin would finally return to nature with them in it.

  The cabin settled into a normal creaking, and Chloe went back to organizing the supplies. She really should lie down and rest. She felt as if her arms would fall off at any minute. Yet she had to know if her suspicions were right.

  She laid the last of the supplies out in their respective piles and ran her fingers between her eyes to relieve her building headache. These guys took their survival seriously. Each pack had enough dehydrated meals for three days, a firestarter, some kind of mug that doubled as a cooking pot, a sleeping bag, extra clothes, and a folding multitask tool.

  They had enough to comfortably stay alive for a while, like some kind of int
ense camping trip—that was if one of them didn’t have celiac. As she’d unpacked the first bag, she had a sinking feeling in her gut. The MREs all contained gluten. Jake had come through the door at that moment, lugging a large load of wood, his face creased with fatigue. She’d tried to play it cool and not show her inner freak out.

  Jake not noticing probably had to do with his intense focus on wood and the fact that he ran on fumes. Even then, he’d paused and asked if she was okay. How much of his push came from protecting her? If he was alone, he probably could’ve survived with a lot less.

  After he went back outside for more wood, she’d made three piles of food: a glutinous gluttony pile, a stack safe for her to eat, and a third one that she could eat if she absolutely had to. The measly pile of food without gluten had her praying they’d be found quickly. While the third pile had MREs that weren’t full of blatant gluten like the pasta meals, the preservatives hid the poison. The question would be how much could her body ingest before it revolted? With her supplements that helped block the gluten back at the house, her supply she kept in her purse would only last four days max. Thank God she’d gotten used to carrying food in her large purse.

  She weaved, her tired body finally calling it quits. She tiptoed to the fire, set another log on, then crawled into the second sleeping bag she’d laid out near the warmth. She stared into the flames as they flicked and swayed against the rock chimney.

  Surely someone would find them as soon as the weather cleared. Her stomach growled, and she curled in on herself. She probably should have eaten her chili instead of being so picky. She’d eaten one of her meal bars. It hadn’t made a dent in her hunger, but it would have to do.

  Tears stung her nose. She rolled her eyes in disgust and flopped on to her back. She couldn’t get all weepy now. It wouldn’t help the situation any. Tears never had made a difference in her circumstances, so she’d determined soon after her diagnosis to keep them firmly in her head where they belonged. The stupid airplane crash had shaken them loose.