by Alix West
Never before had he wanted a woman like he wanted Victoria Singleton. He needed to play his hand close to the vest. Carefully. Very carefully.
A spate of turbulence hit the plane, jostling them. Charlie kept on sleeping and so did Victoria. He was grateful, deeply relishing the way she felt pressed next to him. In a short while he’d have to say good-bye. When the plane landed in Anchorage, he’d wish her well and probably watch her walk away, counting down the days until he could leave his family to head down to California and sweet talk her into bed.
He leaned closer to the crown of her head and inhaled a little of her sweetness.
Every so often the boy glanced back, his blue eye appearing between the seats and fixing his gaze, studying him. Appraising him. The boy looked somber, depressed even. The girl was no happy camper either. Her face was tight with worry.
Victoria shifted against his shoulder. It was nothing short of a miracle that he kept from touching her. He wanted to unsnap the seatbelt, pull her onto his lap and wrap her up in his arms. He’d keep her warm all right. A trickle of sweat rolled down his neck.
When she murmured in her sleep, he forced his thoughts elsewhere. To Paul. The man either lay in a hospital bed or on an operating table. Clay had no desire to see him or speak to him, but wanted to support Vanessa and Lauren. They loved Paul and he was crazy about his daughters.
The bad feelings between Paul and Clay had nothing to do with his sisters. When his mother died, and left with two girls and a boy that wasn’t his, Paul took out his frustrations on Clay. They clashed, violently at times, but never in front of the girls. The tacit understanding was to shield Vanessa and Lauren from their brawls. Paul might be short, but he packed a punch. Clay rubbed the scar over his lip. Not only could Paul hit hard, but he hit with the same hand he wore his Air Force Academy ring.
God, he hated that fucking ring. And Paul was so damned proud of it, showing it off every time he could, telling people “his boy” was going to follow in his footsteps.
In the end, a judge forced Clay’s hand. After Clay had broken Paul’s nose during a particularly violent fight, he found himself facing assault charges. The judge offered a choice between the military or a two-month jail sentence. Just a month out of high school, Clay took the military option, both to stay out of jail and to get away from home.
Everyone hoped he’d get his shit together. Nobody expected him to excel within an elite program and no one imagined he’d be decorated.
Victoria stirred again. The plane lurched and she woke, sitting up and looking at him with panic in her eyes. “These little planes sure get tossed around, don’t they?”
“It’ll be all right.”
The boy peered back and Clay nodded. “It’s just thermals. Warm air probably. Nothing to worry about.”
Victoria shifted in her seat. The coat fell from her shoulders and the reservation fell out of the inner breast pocket and dropped to her lap. Clay watched as she picked up the folded paper. So much for his stealthy plan.
She read the first few lines and turned to look at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted with surprise. “You’re coming to Napa?”
“I’m checking out the other hotel.”
That was the truth, sort of. Doubt darkened her gaze and she swallowed hard. “I suppose we’ll be there at the same time.”
He took the paper, folded it and shoved it in his pocket. “You’re acting like I’m Ted Bundy or something.”
“I’m not either.” She sat back in her seat, edging away from him. “We don’t even have fishing there. Ponds with Koi, but no fishing.”
She bit her lip.
Clay scrubbed a hand over his face. She was looking at him as if he were a predator. The plan was to spend time with her, not frighten her. When he’d imagined sweeping her off her feet, he hadn’t known about her policy of avoiding tall men. Who the hell had anti-tall-guy dating policies. His height and size had never been a liability before.
“I don’t even know if I’ll end up going to Napa. I have family stuff to take care of before I go anywhere. So you don’t need to worry, princess. This might be the last you see of me.”
The girl popped up from the seat. Her mouth quirked with a crooked grin. Her eyes sparkled. She’d been eavesdropping and clearly heard the entire exchange. “You’re going to Napa?”
“It sure looks like it,” Victoria said with a mix of shock and irritation. “Not that I invited him.”
The girl shook her head with mock dismay. “Am I going to have to separate you two kids?”
Well that was just perfect. A smart-ass offering to trade seats. Maybe he should take her up on it so Victoria wouldn’t have some sort of panic-attack. He groaned, thinking about how his romantic, far-fetched scheme was going down in flames.
“No, it’s okay.” Victoria folded her arms across her chest and pressed herself into the corner of her seat. “We’ll be landing soon.”
He clenched his teeth. The thoughts of the sweet moment soon to come, when he’d surprise her with tickets to her favorite opera, mocked him now as the plan failed before he’d even had the chance to put it in motion.
In a few moments, the plane would touch down and they would part ways. All he had to look forward to now was a shit storm in Anchorage, and maybe a restraining order from Victoria. Paul, his sisters and the family drama would give him something else to think about and he would try, once again, to forget about Victoria Singleton.
“What do you mean ‘family stuff’?” Victoria asked.
The look she gave him was actually a little more accusatory than a moment ago when she found the reservation.
“Are you married?” she asked.
He almost smiled. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t care. She watched him and waited for his answer. The girl shifted in her seat in front of him. He was about to answer when a movement beside him drew his attention. Charlie lifted his head and gave a low, deep growl. His fur bristled as he stared at the cockpit.
The plane jerked to the left.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“What the heck was that?” Sydney yelped.
Before he could answer the plane careened to the right. Victoria cried out in surprise. Clay launched from his seat to get to the cockpit.
Henry lay forward in the pilot’s seat, collapsed, his bulk pressed against the controls. Clay cursed, grabbed the man’s coat collar and hauled him to a seated position. The man’s eyes stared, blankly. The plane was dropping. The sight of blue water below drew a curse from his lips. Lifting Henry by his waistband and collar, he hoisted him out of the seat and shoved him out of the way.
The children’s cries of terror registered somewhere in Clay’s mind. He sat down in the pilot’s seat and grabbed the control, easing the stick back. Bringing the plane out of the near-free-fall, he steadied the nose and assessed the situation.
“Two thousand feet,” he muttered. He’d been distracted by Victoria and hadn’t noticed they had descended to such a low altitude.
A light flashed. The fuel indicator. Nearly empty. White-capped waves dotted the stretch of blue. A snowy mass on the horizon might be land or it might be an ice berg. He steered the plane toward the white band, praying for two things. That the snowy area was solid ground and that he could reach it before he ran out of fuel.
Chapter Five
Victoria
The engine sputtered and went quiet. Terrified, Victoria listened as the air whooshed past. Charlie whined. She reached across the seat and grabbed his collar. She didn’t know what else to do. Clay manned the plane, but any moment they would crash. The thought came to her in slow motion. She wanted to scream but could only sit, frozen with fear. The most she could manage was to hold onto Charlie and pray Clay would get them safely on the ground.
“Brace yourself,” she shouted at the children.
The girl shrieked.
The boy said nothing.
She pulled Charlie closer so he stood between the seats. Hopefully that would p
rotect him somewhat. Summoning courage, she looked out the window. The ground rushed past, getting closer every second. And then the plane hit the snow, bouncing up as the sound of metal crunching rolled through the cabin.
She felt dazed. The landing gear just tore off. How will we take off again?
When the plane bounced two more times, Charlie crashed into her legs and whimpered. Someone screamed. Victoria’s head slammed against the window. Her vision darkened for an instant. Behind her eyes stars exploded. The plane skidded on the snow, careening wildly until it came to a stop.
She dropped Charlie’s collar and touched her head. No blood. Just a lump. Darkness faded. Patches of vision returned. She looked out the window. Sun shone on the snow, making it sparkle. So pretty. The snow looked like it was covered in diamonds. A tendril of smoke came from the wing, jerking her back to reality. She grabbed her purse and stood. The boy and girl looked up at her. They were silent. Their eyes were big. Their mouths gaping.
“Are you hurt?”
Both shook their heads.
“We have to get off. Now. Take nothing and let’s move to the door.”
The girl glanced at Victoria’s purse. “I need my backpack.”
Clay glanced back and held her gaze, questioning.
“Everyone’s fine.” Victoria said, her voice tight but even.
“Good.” He turned and began working on the door. “Grab what you want but the second he has the door open, we’re leaving.”
He struggled with the handle and slammed his weight against the door. The door didn’t budge. He pulled himself fully against the opposite side of the plane and then threw himself against the door with a bang. It rattled but still did not open. He picked up the pilot and set him back in the pilot’s seat so he could take a better run at the door.
“Oh my God,” the girl said softly. “Is he dead?”
“He is,” Victoria said. “Don’t look at him.”
Clay slammed the door again and this time it gave a few inches. After three more attempts, the door fell to the ground.
“Everyone off,” Clay ordered.
“Oh my God,” Sydney whispered staring at the pilot.
“Don’t look at him.” Victoria gave the girl a push. “Go on.”
The boy followed his sister out the door. Clay helped each of them down and whistled for his dog. He glanced around the land, looking as calm as if he were casting into a trout stream.
He held out his arms, motioning for them to move away from the wreckage. “Is everyone okay?”
Sydney nodded, too shocked to say much. Her brother bobbed his head and looked around, stunned.
Victoria rubbed her head and grimaced. “I smacked my head pretty hard.”
“Did you lose consciousness?” He stopped walking and turned to face her. Gripping her chin, he peered into her eyes. “Your pupils are fine. Did you pass out?”
The way he held her, firmly keeping her head positioned where he wanted, disoriented her for a moment. When she realized what was happening, she tried to escape his grip.
“Hold still.” He pushed her hair back and examined the injury.
Sydney sniffled, clutching her backpack. “Is someone coming for us?”
Clay dropped his hands. “I think you’re fine, but let me know if you feel sick.”
His detached demeanor made her aware of the panic weighing heavily in her chest. Her heart fluttered against her ribs. She had to coax air into her lungs. Now that they were on the ground and safe, she began to understand the enormity of what had just happened.
They’d crashed. Or crash-landed. Maybe that term was a little better of a description.
Clay turned to the girl. “When we don’t arrive in Anchorage, they’ll send out a search party. They’ll fly along the flight path and should see the wreckage. It won’t be long, but just in case, we should find shelter for the night.”
Shelter for the night. A small sound of dismay fell from her lips. A lake lay beyond the plane and to the other direction lay mountains and more mountains. There were trees and snow drifts, but shelter?
The girl’s eyes watered and she swallowed hard. “But they’re coming?”
“They’re coming.”
Victoria eyed the plane. The tail section was partly torn off. The plane lay on its belly in the snow and tilted to one side. The propeller dangled from a mass of wires. The plane was mostly white, she noted, and not very visible in the snow.
Charlie barked as he ran along a line of trees. He stopped and lifted his leg. Everyone stood silently and watched. The dog seemed completely unaffected by the crash of the plane or the fact that they were in the middle of nowhere. Finally, he finished and loped off, his nose to the snow-covered ground.
“Wow,” the boy said. “That dog really had to take a leak.”
His sister shoved him. “Shut up Ross. Don’t be disgusting.”
Clay shook his head, but Victoria caught the way his lips tilted. The boy hadn’t said a word for the entire flight. He’d sat quietly, looking grim, but now he smiled as he watched the dog. His face lit with amusement, his hands jammed in his pockets. He seemed as unfazed as Charlie.
“We need to move away from the plane,” Clay said.
“Shouldn’t we stay with the plane?” Victoria asked.
“I’m not sure if we’re on ice. I want to get you to the trees. Then I’ll come back and look for flares.”
“We don’t have cell service.” The girl stared at her phone, her eyes filled with horror, as if no telephone was the biggest problem they faced.
Her brother snorted. “No kidding.”
Clay didn’t say anything but motioned for the group to start walking the short distance toward the trees. Charlie bounded back to the edge of the trees and soon was out of site. The snow lay about five inches deep.
With each step, Victoria sank and snow filled her Mary Janes. She had to be the only one walking practically barefooted. A moment before, her feet were cold, now each step felt like walking on glass shards. The girl wore Ugg’s. The boy and Clay were both clad in hiking boots.
From a hundred yards or so they heard Charlie barking. He appeared between two trees, beckoning them to follow him. They made their way deeper into the trees, to see what Charlie had found.
“I’ll be damned,” Clay muttered.
She followed his gaze. The wall of a partially-hidden structure came into view. Charlie ran to the building and barked. He shook, his lips pulled back and his tongue lolling to the side.
“That smelly dog found something,” the girl marveled.
“Shut up, Sydney. He’s not smelly,” Ross snapped. “You’re smelly. And dumb.”
The girl was too amazed to argue. She gave Clay an astonished look. “How did he know how to do that?”
Clay, looking just as surprised, shook his head. “No idea. He’s just a pup.”
As they neared, it became clear that the cabin was uninhabited. The only prints in the snow belonged to Charlie. Still, Victoria could have cried with happiness.
Clay strode past, reaching the door first. He twisted the doorknob.
“Maybe you should try knocking,” Sydney called.
Ross scoffed and smacked his forehead. “Yeah, or calling. Try that too.”
Sydney shoved his shoulder. “Shut up already.”
Clay jostled the handle and pushed the door open. Victoria winced with each step and let out a cry of relief when she stepped inside the cabin.
“Tell me they haven’t lost our reservation.” She stomped her foot, immediately regretting it. Pain shot up her leg. “Ow, ow, ow.”
Clay moved to her side. “What’s the matter?”
She hobbled to the middle of the room and sank into a chair, not caring that it was covered in a sheet. Unbuckling her shoes, she shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m wearing California footwear, not Alaska boots.”
He knelt beside her and wrapped his hands around each foot. His touch burned her freezing skin, but after the initial
sting her pain subsided.
Rubbing her feet gently, he glanced around the room. Victoria followed his gaze, trying not to moan at the way his hands warmed her feet. She should brush him away, but the warmth was the best thing she’d ever felt.
Several windows lined the walls, the curtains, festooned with cowboys riding bucking broncos. While the curtains were drawn, they allowed plenty of sunlight to filter through. Motes of dust swirled in sunshine. A pedestal table stood near the kitchen. An iron stove crouched in the corner, beside a crate of neatly stacked firewood.
“What is this place?” Sydney pulled the curtain back and peered out the window. “This cabin is like something from Little House on the Prairie.”
“I’m going to start a fire for you,” Clay said to Victoria. “Don’t let your feet get cold again.”
Ross sat down beside her and studied her feet thoughtfully. “A boy in my class lost three toes to frost-bite.”
Victoria recoiled, but before she could respond, Clay spoke. “It’s important that you dress properly in Alaska.”
Victoria fought the overwhelming disorientation that his words brought. Her feet felt a little better now but her thoughts teetered. “I was on my way to California.”
“We might be here a little while,” he said quietly.
Sydney spun from the window. “You said they were coming. You said they were sending people to search for us.”
Her voice cracked with emotion as she hugged her backpack and glared at Clay.
“You said!”
“I know.” Clay gave Victoria’s feet a gentle squeeze and set them down. They tingled. She missed his touch instantly.
He straightened. “We’re going to hope for the best but plan for the worst.”
Sydney nodded. “Okay. Okay. Like a day or two?”
“Something like that.”
“In that case,” she bit her lip, worriedly, and glanced at Ross. “We need our bags from the plane.”
Clay nodded. “Ross and I will get the bags. First, I’m starting a fire. Once the sun goes down, it’s going to get plenty cold.”
Chapter Six
