by Dinah McCall
Deborah walked in just in time to realize there was a situation in progress, and it was obvious from the looks on Molly’s and Evan’s faces that they were at a loss as to what to do. Maybe she could help.
“So, young man, it sounds to me like you have a really good plan,” Deborah said. “I was going to ask if your Molly would like to come sleep in my bed with me for tonight, but I think you have the better idea.”
Molly’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t presume to—”
Evan spoke at the same time. “I could just—”
Deborah held up her hand. They both stopped talking.
“For pity’s sake, people. He’s the best chaperone anyone could have, and he obviously needs to know the two people he trusts most are close at hand.”
Evan sighed. “You’re right. It’s not a problem with me, if Molly is okay with it.”
Molly wouldn’t look at him. “Of course it’s okay with me. Johnny and I have come this far together. I don’t see what’s wrong with spending another night with my new best friend.”
Johnny threw his arms around her and hugged her neck, then crawled from her lap to his father’s arms.
“It’s okay then, right, Dad? You can have my pillow. I don’t need—”
“Oh, I think I can come up with a spare pillow,” Deborah said. “Be right back.”
By the time she’d gone to the linen closet and back, Molly and Johnny were under the covers, and Evan was standing at the side of the bed. All the lights were out except the bedside lamp.
“Thank you,” Evan said as he took the pillow she handed him, then looked down at the pair in the bed. “For everything.”
Deborah nodded and smiled. “You’re welcome. Sleep well.”
Evan nodded, then shoved a weary hand through his hair. “Thanks to you, we’ll all sleep well tonight.”
“It’s my pleasure, believe me,” Deborah said, and closed the door behind her as she left.
Evan placed his pillow on the bed, then headed to the bathroom to clean up. A few minutes later he was back, wearing a pair of old black sweatpants and a faded black T-shirt. Without looking at Molly, he sat down on the side of the bed and pulled off his eye patch.
The wind whistled around the eaves of the big old house, but the walls were sturdy and the rooms were warm. He turned off the lamp, then crawled beneath the covers and rolled onto his side. There were a few moments of restless shifting before he found a comfortable spot.
Johnny’s little backside was resting right in the curve of Evan’s lap. Evan shifted until his arm was free of the covers. Without thinking, he laid it across the covers over Johnny’s body so that his little boy would feel his father’s presence, even as he slept. As his hand inadvertently connected with Molly’s, he realized she had done the same thing.
She flinched at the unexpected contact, then tried to pull away.
“It’s okay,” he said softly, patting her hand and arm. “Stay where you are.”
“Only if you do, too,” she whispered.
There was a brief moment of silence, then a sigh as Evan laid his hand right next to Molly’s.
“Sleep well, lady, and once again, thank you for saving my son’s life.”
“You’re welcome,” she answered.
Johnny heard their voices but was too close to sleep to chime in. For the first time in two days, he felt as if his world was beginning to right itself. He was really sad about his grandparents, and his daddy didn’t look quite right. But when he closed his eyes, Daddy still sounded the same, and Molly was still there—strong and smart and smelling really good. He snuggled just a little bit farther beneath the covers and sighed. Maybe it really was going to be all right.
Deborah’s bath had been far shorter than she would have liked, but there wasn’t enough hot water left for a good soak, so she’d settled for just getting clean.
Her feet were starting to feel normal, but her face still burned. She’d rubbed plenty of moisturizing lotion onto her skin, but it was going to take more than one dose to get her past the chafing the cold had caused.
Her pink flannel nightgown was hanging on a hook on the bathroom door. She took it off the hook and slipped it over her head, relishing the familiar softness and warmth against her skin. She stepped into some house shoes, gave her hair a good brushing, then left it down.
Even though she was sure that Evan and Molly were fine, she thought she would check in on them and grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed as she left her room.
The house was quiet except for the intermittent snoring of someone down the hall. It was coming from the room that James and Mike had taken. She smiled to herself, wondering which one it was. It only took a few moments to see that Johnny’s compromise was working. Evan and Molly were lying facing each other, with Johnny nestled right in between. Her vision blurred when she saw that they were sound asleep with their fingers entwined. Even asleep, their intent to protect the boy was still strong.
Quietly she closed the door, then moved toward the kitchen, making sure the back door was locked. She glanced at the clock. It was almost four in the morning. She sighed. Three hours’ sleep, and then she would have to be up doing chores, if only so she could let Farley know she was back and he didn’t have to come by anymore. The dog and cats could wait a bit for their food, but her old cow wouldn’t appreciate a late milking.
She started into the living room, then gasped when she saw a shadow move between the front door and the sofa.
“Who’s there?” she called, then watched a figure emerging from the darkened room.
“Sorry,” Mike said as he walked into the light. “I was just putting the fire screen up.”
“Thank you,” Deborah said, and added, “I thought you were asleep.”
Mike grinned. “You’ve got to be kidding. Didn’t you hear Dad snoring?”
Deborah smiled. “Well, yes, actually I did hear something. I wondered which one of you it was. Now I know.”
“Just so you know…I don’t snore,” Mike said.
“I’ll file that information away for future reference.”
Mike grinned again.
Deborah stood for a moment, absorbing this man and his energy.
“What?” Mike asked.
She shrugged. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I just find it remarkable that you all look so much alike. Dark hair, blue eyes, and you’re all so tall. Who’s tallest?”
“Grandpop,” Mike said. “He’s also the oldest, at eighty-five. I think he’s about six foot six.”
“Oh, my,” Deborah said. “And here I thought James was big.”
Mike smiled. “Yeah. You know how tough it is for a boy to want to be as big as his dad and never quite make it?”
“But you’re tall, too,” Deborah said.
Mike moved a little closer.
Deborah wished he’d had the foresight to put on a T-shirt like Evan. It was distracting to see such broad shoulders, all that warm, tanned skin and flat belly, and not think of what the rest of him might look like.
“Um, I was just going to bed,” she said. “So…I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”
Mike stopped just short of touching her. He wanted to, but he could tell she was uneasy.
“Count on it,” he said, then pointed to the couch. “If you need me, I’m bunking down on that couch. Just holler. I’ll come running.”
“I’ll get you some sheets and blankets, then,” she said, and hurried down the hall to the linen closet.
Her hands were trembling as she pulled out a pair of clean sheets and a pillowcase. As she was reaching for the blankets, Mike stepped up behind her.
“I’ll get that,” he said, then reached up over her and pulled a couple of blankets down from a shelf above her head.
Deborah handed him the sheets without looking at him.
“I’ll get an extra pillow from my closet, then help you make your bed.”
She left before Mike could tell her he was capable of making the be
d by himself, and he decided to keep quiet just to be able to spend a few extra minutes alone with her.
Deborah hurried back to the living room carrying the pillow, only to see that Mike had already pulled out the sofa and was putting on the bottom sheet.
“Here, I’ll do the other side,” she said, and grabbed the loose sheet and began tucking it into place. “I’ll be up pretty early, and I’ll try to be quiet, but just in case, I’m apologizing ahead of time for the noise.”
Mike frowned. “Up early for what?”
“Chores,” she said. “I have animals to tend to and—”
He took the sheet out of her hand and turned her toward the hall.
“Damn, woman, if I had known you weren’t going to get any sleep at all, I would have nixed the help. For God’s sake, go to bed. I can do this.”
“It’s okay,” she said, “I’m used to—”
Mike circled her, then stopped when they were face-to-face. There was a long moment of silence as their gazes locked. The tension between them was palpable.
Deborah’s heart started to pound.
Mike’s eyes narrowed as he slid his hands beneath her hair and cupped the back of her neck. He could feel the thunder of her pulse beneath his fingers. When he leaned forward to kiss her, he felt it skip.
Their lips conformed to each other’s almost instantly, but the hunger in the kiss unsettled them both. Within seconds of making contact, they had pulled away.
“Go to bed,” Mike said.
Deborah turned and walked away without answering, but not because she was angry. She left because she knew if she opened her mouth to say anything, it would be to invite him to come with her.
9
Wally Hacker glanced at the clock as he hung up the phone, then turned to the dispatcher.
“Paul, put out the word that the missing passengers have been found. The damn phone cut out before I could get any details, but Miss Sanborn said they didn’t require emergency treatment, so I trust they’re going to be okay.”
“Yes, sir. Right away,” Paul said, then added, “That Deborah is somethin’, ain’t she, boss?”
Wally nodded. “‘Something’ isn’t quite the right word, but you’re right on about her being special. Oh…by the way…find the number for that guy from the FAA. What’s his name? Antoine Devereaux. I want to call him myself.”
Paul shuffled through some papers, found the list he’d been given and wrote the number down for the sheriff.
“Here you go, sir.”
“Thanks. Now, go make those calls. If any of those TV or newspaper people call here, forward the calls to my office.”
“Yes, sir,” Paul said, and got down to business.
Wally carried the phone number into his office, then sat down behind his desk before he dialed the phone. He said a quick prayer as he made the call, hoping it would go through. The last thing he wanted was to have to go out at this time of night and drive up to the crash site to talk to Devereaux to tell him their three missing passengers had been found safe and sound.
Antoine Devereaux was wrapped up in his sleeping bag and lying on the floor of a large motor home one of the searchers had driven up as close as possible to the site. It was built to accommodate six sleepers. There were at least twelve—maybe thirteen—who’d sought shelter inside on this cold, snowy night.
He’d been lying there for hours, dozing off and on between cursing the sounds and snores of so many people crowded into such a small place, even though he knew it was better than being outside in the snow, where a lot of the searchers had bedded down.
When his cell phone rang, it startled him. In trying to answer it, he dropped it, giving it time to ring four more times before he found it in the dark.
“Devereaux,” he mumbled.
“Mr. Devereaux, this is Sheriff Hacker. Sorry to be calling at such an ungodly hour, but I thought you’d like to know that I just heard from Deborah Sanborn.”
Tony twisted far enough free of the confines of the sleeping bag to sit up.
“Who? Oh…yeah, your psychic.”
Hacker grinned to himself. “Yeah, well, my psychic, as you call her, has found your missing passengers. The phone cut out, but I heard enough to know that they’re all safe, and they made it to her house.”
Tony was floored. “You’re kidding!”
“Nope. I wouldn’t kid about something like that,” Wally said. “Also…she said they didn’t need any immediate medical attention, so we have to assume they’ll be all right until we can get to them.”
“Well, hallelujah,” Tony muttered, thinking of all the people who would finally get to go home. “Thanks for calling. I’ll deal with the searchers now and get back with you later to get Sanborn’s phone number. I wonder why Mike didn’t call me direct?”
“Probably couldn’t get through.”
“Oh, yeah…didn’t think of that,” Tony said. “Anyway, thanks for the call, and I’ll see you later.”
“Any time,” Hacker said, and disconnected.
Tony dropped his phone back in his pocket and then made his way up from the floor to a light switch. When he turned it on, a multitude of groans and soft curses could be heard throughout the RV.
“Shut the hell up and listen,” Tony growled. “The missing passengers have been found. The searchers need to be notified, but there’s a possibility that our cells and handheld radios won’t reach them. Even so, they have to be notified before daylight, so they don’t head off into the woods again, broadening their search. That means I need volunteers. Get dressed and be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”
More grumbles, but they were good-natured. Everyone was pleased to learn the missing passengers had been found. While everyone else was dressing, Tony headed outside.
It was only a few hours before daylight. The sky was a murky black. No stars were visible, and if there was a moon, it was hidden by the clouds he had yet to see. The few lights that had been strung up around the area were powered by the generators Tony could hear running. It made getting around the vehicles much easier than if he’d had to do it with only his flashlight, but it also made the air smell of fuel, instead of mountain.
Bits and pieces of the crashed plane had been hauled here to be taken away to a warehouse, where the plane would be reconstructed in hopes of finding a reason for the crash. It would be days before everything was removed. Reflections from the artificial lights shining down on the chunks of ripped and curled metal gave the area a macabre appearance.
As he walked, a couple of armed guards nodded at him from a distance. He waved and kept on going toward the communications van. One quick knock to signal his entrance and he was inside.
The techie on duty had been asleep. Tony didn’t say anything as he moved to a coffeepot and poured up what looked like black syrup into a foam cup.
“Jesus, Carter, when was this made?”
Carter ran the end of a pen through his hair to scratch his scalp. No need messing up a perfectly good do by disarranging the pointy little spikes.
“I couldn’t say,” he said as he waved a hand toward the minifridge. “I’m into soft drinks myself.”
Tony winced as he took his first sip, then stirred in some sugar.
“Maybe this will help,” he said as he took a second drink, which turned out no better than the first, just sweeter. “Nope, that didn’t work, either,” he said, and abandoned it for a Coke from the fridge.
“So…what’s up, boss?” Carter asked.
“I need you to call in all the searchers.”
Carter’s face fell. “Don’t tell me it’s bad news.”
“Just the opposite,” Tony said. “The missing passengers have been found alive and well. Tell everyone to come back in at daybreak.”
“Yes, sir!” Carter said. “That’s the kind of news I like to send.”
Tony grinned. “Oh, yeah, I hear you loud and clear.”
Tony downed his Coke, tossed the empty can in the trash and then left the van
. He was halfway back to the motor home when someone called out his name.
“Hey, Devereaux! Wait up!”
Tony stopped and turned around as a man ran out of the shadows from between a row of parked cars. It wasn’t until the stranger stepped into the glow of the overhead lights that Tony realized who it was. He frowned as the man started pummeling him with questions.
“So, Devereaux, you’re up early. What’s going on? Anything you can tell me? Any news from the searchers? Did you find the missing passengers? Are they dead? They are, aren’t they?”
Tony shoved his hands in his coat pockets to keep from putting them around the reporter’s neck.
“Morrison, right?”
The reporter nodded. “Yeah…what can you tell me?”
“That it’s friggin’ cold out here,” Tony said, and headed for the RV.
“Damn it, man…all I want is an answer.”
“To which question?” Tony asked as he reached the door.
Morrison cursed.
“That wasn’t a question,” Tony said, and disappeared into the RV, firmly shutting the door behind him.
But Morrison wasn’t giving up that easily. He stood for a minute to make sure that Devereaux was safely inside, then headed for the communications van.
He walked up the steps leading into the van, then hesitated before firmly gripping the door latch and easing it open a couple of inches. It was just enough to hear what the man inside was saying. He listened until he was certain of his information, then slowly closed the door and headed back to his car, grinning all the way.
Inside the RV, Tony had handpicked the nine people he wanted to follow up.
“Go over to the communications van. Carter is on duty. Find out which groups are nonresponsive. Take snowmobiles, go to their last known locations and send them in.” Then he pointed to a tall middle-aged woman who’d been with the FAA almost as long as he had. “Bonnie…you’re in charge. Coordinate who’s going in which direction. The rest of you, partner up and let’s get this done.”
“Yes, sir,” the woman said, and headed out the door. “Come on, guys, let’s get to the mess tent. I might even be persuaded to make a pot of fresh coffee before we disperse.”
