The Rescue Pilot

by Rachel Lee

  The best thing to do, he decided, was to make sure she left without feeling that she owed him anything. Make it clear that the last two days had created no ties that couldn’t snap in an instant.

  He had to let her go free of any sense of obligation or debt, because he didn’t want her that way. He’d rather lose her than risk that. So he’d cut her loose tomorrow. If she chose to look him up later, that would be different, but for now he had to do what was best. Best for both of them. God, he was going to hate himself come tomorrow.

  Thoughts of separation didn’t last long. A few hours later, Cait’s breathing worsened noticeably. The rasping woke Rory from a doze. “Chase? Wendy?”

  In an instant, both were squatting over Cait.

  “It sounds like she’s drowning.” Instinctively, Rory pulled Cait up into a sitting position. Never, ever in her life had she heard someone sound like this. Cait didn’t even wake up, not even when jerked upright.

  Chase swore. He went to get the dish full of steaming water and cussed again. “It’s dry. I’ll get some snow.”

  Yuma was up now, too, pulling on his boots. “I’ll build up the fire.”

  Rory wrapped her arm around her sister and pounded her back. What else could she do?

  “Stop for a second,” Wendy said. She pulled away blankets, unzipped Cait’s jacket and pressed her ear to the woman’s chest. “She’s filling up.”

  “Oh, God,” Rory said faintly. “Oh, God.”

  Wendy didn’t offer any false hope. Not a shred of it. “I need a hot, wet cloth,” she said.

  Rory didn’t hesitate. She pulled off her sweater and crawled out into the snow. She pushed as much snow into the fabric as she could then crawled over to the fire. She didn’t even feel the night air’s bite.

  As soon as the snow melted into the sweater and the fabric grew hot, she scooted over to Wendy.

  Wendy took it and stuffed it inside Cait’s jacket, covering her chest with it before rezipping the parka.

  Then she pounded Cait’s back again.

  Cait’s eyes fluttered opened. She drew a shallow, ragged, wet breath, then coughed. It almost sounded like a barking seal. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hush,” Rory said sharply. “Just cough, dammit.”

  Cait tried again, but it sounded both weak and far too tight.

  The light suddenly brightened and Rory turned her head to see Yuma throwing more dry pine branches on the fire. Chase was already hovering over the bowl of snow, and she could see steam starting to rise.

  When it was good and hot, he grabbed it with his gloved hands and brought it to them, duck-walking beneath their shelter. He didn’t set it down but held it directly under Cait’s chin.

  “Breathe, Cait,” Rory begged. “As deeply as you can.”

  Chase looked over his shoulder. “Yuma, get that other pot out of the duffel. Boil more water.”

  “You got it.”

  Cait’s breathing was so shallow that Rory despaired that she could draw enough steam into her lungs. “Cait, please, try. Inhale it.”

  Cait opened her mouth and drew a breath. It was a little one, but Rory could see steam drifting toward and into her mouth.

  “Another one, Cait.”

  Wendy pounded some more, but no cough emerged. She looked at Rory over Cait’s head. “We’re going to have to keep this up until the ’copter gets here.”

  “Then I will.”

  “No,” said Chase. “We will.”

  “I must have fallen asleep,” Rory said. “Oh, God, how could I have slept and not heard this?”

  “Rory.” Wendy’s voice was firm. “Given her condition I told you this could be sudden. You probably heard it the minute it got worse. We’ve been getting her to cough regularly. It’s all we could do then. Now we do what we can do nonstop until rescue gets here.”

  After a moment, Rory nodded. What else could she do?

  Chase switched the steaming bowls. Wendy pulled the wet sweater out again and told Rory to reheat it.

  Though it seemed like forever, probably a half hour passed before Cait had her first productive cough. Then she drew a deeper breath, though not deep enough, and sounded a bit looser.

  “Good,” said Wendy with evident satisfaction. “One of you guys get some sleep. We only need three of us to take care of this.”

  But nobody slept. Nobody even tried. The steaming-bowl brigade continued. Yuma took over heating the sweater for Rory, and in between times gathered more wood for the fire.

  Little by little, Cait’s breathing improved.

  Rory looked at Wendy. “What about when she’s on the chopper?”

  “They can give her plenty of oxygen. They also have other stuff. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Okay.”

  Never had she been more out of her element than in these long night hours. She barely felt it when Chase touched her shoulder, barely noticed that her lack of response caused him to draw back a bit.

  Only one thing mattered: Cait.

  Chase felt her withdrawal as rejection. All he’d tried to do was offer silent comfort, and she’d acted like he wasn’t even there. Good. That would make his task easier.

  In the meantime, he wanted nothing more than to ensure that Cait survived to be evacuated. He wanted it for Rory most of all, but he wanted it for himself, too.

  Because there were some burdens that might be too heavy to carry. He wanted Cait to live. He didn’t want to feel responsible for killing her.

  And he would if they didn’t get her out of here alive, and get her past the pneumonia.

  The rest of the night he ferried water and listened hopefully as Cait coughed and struggled to draw deeper breaths. Little by little, she seemed to improve.

  And then, just before the first pale light of dawn began to overtake the fire’s light, she had a coughing fit he thought might kill her all by itself.

  When it passed, she sagged against her sister, and at long last drew a deep breath. And then another.

  “Tea?” he asked.

  Cait nodded weakly.

  He went to the pot that was heating by the fire, made the tea with plenty of sugar, and passed the cup to Rory.

  Then he rose and left the lean-to, to walk around the clearing’s edge.

  If God had any mercy, he thought, that woman would survive and get her trial on the new drug. And if any of that mercy was left over, he hoped he could find a way to cut the tie with Rory. For good.

  Neither of them needed this. It was born of an artificial closeness. He gave himself another dozen or so arguments, absolutely none of which he believed, but what the hell.

  It was going to hurt, but not for long. She hadn’t been in his life for enough time to leave a permanent scar.

  He only wished he believed that.

  As soon as it was light enough for visual flight rules over these mountains, he heard a plane engine coming their way again. He stood in the middle of the clearing, flare gun ready.

  “Build up that fire, Yuma?”

  “I already am.”

  When it sounded close enough, Chase sent up his last flare. They damn well better see it.

  Five breathless minutes later, the plane soared over them and waggled its wings. They had been sighted.

  Now it would be only a matter of time before the chopper arrived.

  Reluctantly, he turned back to the lean-to. Cait was still drinking tea. Rory looked at him, something he couldn’t define in her gaze, then her attention slipped away.

  He’d definitely been relegated to the forgotten. And he was going to make damn sure he stayed there somehow.

  For both their sakes.

  A half hour later the helicopter arrived, emblazoned with a red cross and blue lettering on white that identified it as a medical evacuation chopper. It hovered as low as it could without landing on the snow or clipping the trees, its roar deafening.

  It lowered an EMT to them immediately, then lifted a bit, waiting. He greeted Wendy and Yuma with quick hugs while
Wendy filled him in on Cait.

  Within five minutes, after he spoke through his headset to the chopper, he was lifted again. Then down came a basket stretcher.

  Her heart pounding madly, Rory helped settle Cait into it and strap her in. When Wendy was satisfied, she made a winding motion with her hand and the stretcher began to lift, swaying a bit, but far steadier than Rory would have believed possible.

  Then Cait vanished into the door of the chopper.

  Wendy leaned close to Rory. “They can take only one more person on this trip. They’re sending down a harness for you.”

  “You should go,” Rory said, panic stabbing at her. “You know how to navigate it all, get her help faster.”

  Wendy grabbed her forearm. “Hang in there. You know as much about her condition as I do, and when that thing lands at the hospital, there’s going to be no hesitation in beginning treatment. Plus, you know her doctors, right?”

  Rory nodded, looking up.

  “You know more of the important stuff than I do, and there’s an EMT onboard right now,” Wendy said. “You don’t need an extra one.”

  Only then did Rory admit that she didn’t want to let her sister out of her sight. She was afraid something would happen and she wouldn’t be there. She couldn’t bear the thought.

  She looked toward Chase. He nodded, his expression cool. “Good luck. I hope it all turns out well for you.”

  Woodenly, she allowed Wendy and Yuma to buckle her into the waiting harness. He hadn’t even asked her to let him know how it came out.

  She wondered if she could stand anymore, because her heart was cracking again, this time because of Chase.

  Then a flicker of fury saved her. She read the farewell in his eyes, in the dismissive tone. In the way he wished her luck, and didn’t say anything about seeing her later. She felt used. She looked him square in the eye and spoke coldly.

  “Have a nice life.”

  Then the winch lifted her to whatever the future held.

  The local hospital put her in a bed next to Cait’s in the emergency room. The oxygen seemed to be brightening her color, and Rory hardly tore her gaze from her sister as people checked her out for exposure, pumped fluids into her, insisted that she eat.

  Cait was unconscious again, but the E.R. personnel lifted the burden from Rory’s shoulders. The E.R. doctors spoke to Cait’s doctors in Seattle, and came in to tell Rory that a treatment plan had been made. They were going to treat the pneumonia immediately with powerful antibiotics and decongestants.

  She watched again and again as they forced Cait to cough.

  Then a nurse came to tell her that they had arranged medical transport to Minnesota the next day. Cait would still get into the trial as long as her pneumonia showed improvement by tomorrow or the next day.

  By late afternoon, Cait’s breathing improved. Hope alone was enough to allow Rory to lie back and give it all into the hands of the medical people. Not long after that, they released her and she followed Cait up to ICU, where she remained in a chair beside her sister’s bed.

  “How are you doing?”

  Wendy’s voice drew her out of numb preoccupation and she looked up. “Okay. She’s breathing better.”

  “I can hear that.”

  “They say her tests show no organ damage, so that’s good.”

  Wendy nodded. “I heard. And she’s still going for the trial.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we succeeded.”

  “Thanks to you and Yuma. And Chase.” Chase who hadn’t bothered to come by even once to see how Cait was doing, how she was doing.

  Wendy hesitated. “You and Chase…”

  “It was nothing. Forget it. I have.”

  And that was probably the biggest lie she had ever told.

  Chapter 11

  Rory was coming out of the hospital on a cold Minnesota afternoon, planning to get a decent meal somewhere besides the hospital cafeteria.

  A familiar voice brought her up short.

  “Howdy, stranger.”

  She turned slowly and saw Chase standing there on the sidewalk looking oddly awkward. At least for Chase. He smiled uncertainly.

  All the pain she’d refused to allow herself to feel rose up in a tidal wave and transformed into anger. “What are you doing here? Not having a nice life?”

  With that she turned and started to storm away. He’d hurt her worse than she had realized until later, and she wasn’t going to let him hurt her again. No way.

  But he caught up with her. “I wanted to see how Cait is doing.”

  She resisted answering him, but finally said shortly, “Much better.”

  “Really?”

  She kept walking.

  “Rory, look. I owe you a date.”

  “Like I care.”

  “Then call it lunch. I need to talk with you.”

  “No, you don’t. You made that clear over the last couple of months.”

  “I was an ass. Does that help?”

  “And you’re not being one now?”

  “God, I hope not.”

  Somehow that got through to her. She glanced at him, and realized that his face still had the power to tug at her heart. “Lunch,” she finally agreed grudgingly. “Not a date.”

  “Fine.” Another half smile. “Where?”

  “There’s a place up here that offers a better menu than the hospital cafeteria.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  It wasn’t an upscale restaurant by any means, basically a diner with a counter and booths and food that didn’t try to match some dietitian’s view of hell.

  They slid into a booth facing each other, and said little until after they ordered.

  “So she’s really improving,” Chase said when the waitress walked away.

  “It’s amazing,” Rory said, and her voice cracked a bit. “For the first time since I came home, doctors are saying hopeful things to me. All I heard before was that I’d better prepare myself. That she only had weeks or at most a few months. Now I’m actually hearing references to when she finishes this treatment. There’s a future again.”

  “Thank God.” His words were clearly heartfelt, and despite herself she warmed a bit toward him. “Long term?”

  “She’ll probably never be cured. Few cancers really are, I guess. But she can have this treatment again if necessary. The doctors are thrilled by how she’s responding. So am I. Chase, she’s smiling again. Eating. Starting to talk about things she wants to do.”

  “That’s wonderful. That must make you feel wonderful.”

  “It does, obviously. I hardly dared hope.”

  “I know. But you fought for her like a tiger.”

  She hesitated. “You helped.”

  “Not much. I’m the guy who brought us down on a mountainside.”

  “Safely,” she reminded him. “Did you find out what happened?”

  “A comedy of errors that almost wasn’t a comedy, if you get my drift. A handful of things went wrong because mechanics missed something, or failed to do something exactly right. No single one of them would have been catastrophic, but put them all together that’s what they became. Oh, and you’ll love this.”

  “What?”

  “The beacon wasn’t working at all. That freaking expensive piece of equipment I had installed so our location could be pinpointed in a crash failed. I guess that wasn’t installed right, either.”

  “Maybe you need to find a new mechanic.”

  “I’m not sure, but some heads are going to roll.”

  She nodded. “So you get your new plane?”

  “I flew here on it.”

  “That was fast.”

  He shrugged. “That overhaul was done by the plane’s manufacturer. Once the preliminary report came from the NTSB, they couldn’t give me a replacement fast enough.”

  “I’m glad you’re back in business.”

  Silence fell again. Their sandwiches were served, both of them thick and meat-laden.

  “Ho
w about your business?” he asked after they’d eaten a few mouthfuls.

  “I’m managing it long-distance. Thank God for the telephone and the internet.”

  “That’s good.”

  Another silence, this one more awkward. What was she doing here? This was worse than ripping a sticky bandage off a wound. She could feel barely formed scabs shrieking.

  “Rory…” He hesitated. “I’ve had some time to think. I need some time with you. To talk. To figure out stuff. I didn’t want to be a bastard, but I was. Please. Can you spare me some time?”

  She hesitated, realizing that she wanted to hear what he had to say, regardless of how difficult it might be to hear. The way they had parted had given her no closure at all. She needed some closure on her episode with him, just so she could live with herself.

  Especially now that the future existed once again, with Cait’s improvement.

  “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll go back to the hospital and tell Cait I’m going to be away for a while.”

  “Thank you.”

  They talked casually thereafter. He told her more about Wendy and Yuma, and how they were doing. “They wanted to come along to see Cait. I told them next trip.”

  Rory caught her breath. “You believed that strongly that she was going to get better?”

  “If she’s anything like her sister, I figured her for a fighter.”

  “She almost lost that fight.”

  “I know. Don’t lose yours. Not for any reason.”

  What did he mean by that? she wondered as they walked back to the hospital. As they rounded a corner, the icy winter wind snatched at them and she almost lost her breath. He reached to hold her elbow, to steady her, and she didn’t pull away.

  Soon enough, she told herself, he’d be gone for good, and she could start growing the scabs again. Put the bandages back in place. Get on with life.

  Cait waved at them through the glass that separated her from the world until her immune system was restored. When Rory said she was thinking about being away for a few hours, Cait waved a hand.

  “Go. For heaven’s sake, get out of here and breathe something that doesn’t smell like iodine.”