by Mallory Kane
Kinnard was dead. But Matt had to assume that Al Hamar was still out there somewhere. That meant Aimee was still in danger. Because although Novus needed Matt alive so he could be questioned, he had no use for Aimee or her baby.
Matt looked back at Kinnard’s frozen body. This time he spotted the assault rifle, half buried in the snow. He needed that rifle. So he used a few precious minutes to trudge through the snow. He confirmed that Kinnard was dead. Then he dug the rifle out of the snow with his good hand.
Turning back toward the cabin, he examined the tree that had fallen onto the cabin’s roof, and onto him. Its roots were still partially embedded in the ground. And that meant that only part of the tree’s weight was resting on the cabin.
At that instant, the tree creaked and settled, shaking the cabin. Its movement drew his attention to a branch that had penetrated the roof in the same way the stick had penetrated his arm.
Dear God, don’t let Aimee or William be hurt.
Matt cautiously approached the downhill side of the cabin. As he got closer, he saw the damage the big tree had caused. The sides of the cabin had been crushed.
The slight bump he saw in the roofline told him the central portion of the structure had withstood the weight of the tree better than the sides. But the way the tree was creaking and moving, its roots might give way at any minute, and its full weight would flatten the cabin.
He had to get Aimee and her baby out of there.
Cradling his hand, he climbed over the snowdrifts and landed on the porch with a thud, jarring the hell out of his arm.
The pain was like a punch to his gut. For a few seconds he couldn’t get his breath as dizzying nausea racked him.
Then he heard William crying again. He couldn’t tell exactly where the sound was coming from, and ice crystals had formed on the panes of the door. He rubbed them away, trying to see inside.
“Aimee!” he called. “Aimee! Are you okay?” He couldn’t see anything through the glass panes. The inside of the cabin was pitch-black.
“Aimee! Answer me!”
SUNDAY 0900 HOURS
THE HEAVY TREE that lay on top of the cabin shifted as the snow melted around it, and the roof creaked and groaned. Aimee shook her head as she stared at the huge branch that had speared through the cabin’s roof right in front of the wall where she’d huddled with William. It had missed them by several feet, but somehow that wasn’t comforting.
She jumped and cringed as a thud reverberated through the cabin. Another tree falling? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that the loud bang was the latest in a long night full of very scary sounds. Many of them from the cabin itself. The center wall where she’d huddled with William had turned out to be a very good choice.
When the tree had hit the cabin, glass had popped out of the windows and studs and logs had cracked loudly. Nails screeching against wood, and logs crunching under the weight of the tree, had continued all through the night.
Every screech, every crunch, had Aimee cringing and hovering over William to protect him, terrified that the cabin’s structure wouldn’t hold for another second.
She clutched William closer and whispered to him. “I know, William, I know. You’re so uncomfortable. Your mommy isn’t taking very good care of you.” She took a shaky breath. “You’re wet and hungry, and all I’ve got is this cold bottle of formula.”
Earlier, she’d dared to leave William long enough to weave her way into the kitchen around the debris. She’d found a bottle turned upside down on the drain board, with its top beside it. Further searching had yielded two cans of baby formula.
William had taken a little formula, but he scrunched up his face, making sure his mommy knew he didn’t like it. That, plus his reaction to her fear, made him fussy.
She’d held him through the rest of the night, singing lullabies and trying to pretend for his sake that she didn’t believe they were the only survivors of the snowslide. Trying to believe that Matt was out there somewhere, trying to get to them.
“Aimee!”
She stopped murmuring to William and listened. She’d dozed a few times during the night, only to wake up thinking she heard Matt calling her. But it always turned out to be the wind howling or the timbers of the house rubbing together.
“Matt?” It was foolish, she knew, to answer the wind, but there was nobody to hear her except William.
“Aimee? Are you all right?”
That sounded real. She held her breath, listening. Hoping with every fiber of her being that it really was Matt. At the same time fearing she was hallucinating. She was desperately afraid that he hadn’t survived.
Then she heard a pounding on the door. She looked up, squinting against the glare of sunlight on snow. Pushing herself to her feet, still clutching William to her chest, she forced her stiff muscles to move.
She had to thread her way around the limb that had impaled the roof, and between fallen beams and broken glass, but she finally got to the door. She rubbed frost off the glass. “Oh, dear heavens, Matt! It’s really you.”
“Aimee.”
Standing in front of the door with the sun and bright snow behind him, he looked like an angel. The parka’s hood was pushed back. His ears were bright red, his cheeks were chapped, and his mouth was compressed into a thin line, but he was there. And he was beautiful.
He grabbed the doorknob and pushed. It didn’t move.
“Matt, the cabin’s crushed—”
“Get away from the door.” He put his right shoulder against it and shoved.
Something cracked, and a broken board fell, barely missing his arm.
“Matt, stop! You’re going to get hurt.” Aimee had never seen him so desperate.
He kicked away the board and pulled his MAC-10. “Get as far back as you can. I’m going to break the window.”
“Wait!” Aimee yelled.
He stopped, surprised.
“Matt, the door’s stuck, and the cabin is collapsing. Slow down. We need to figure out what to do.”
He pressed a gloved hand against the glass. “Listen to me. We don’t have time. Deke is going to be at the peak in less than ten minutes. I’ve got to get you and William up there.”
Her first reaction was excitement. “Deke’s coming?” They were safe.
But Matt’s face told a different story. He looked exhausted, desperate, defeated.
Shifting William’s weight to her right arm, she laid her left hand against his right on the other side of the cold glass.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.
He laid his forehead against the glass. The corners of his mouth were white and pinched. “My phone is almost dead. I won’t be able to contact Deke again.”
Aimee heard what he didn’t say. This was their last chance. “Break the windows,” she said, and backed away.
He met her gaze. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for in her eyes, but she knew by looking at him that his goal was the same as hers.
Get William to safety.
He swung the handle of the MAC-10 at the panes of glass.
She wanted to cry at the weakness of his swing. He was exhausted. He’d spent the night out in the freezing cold. He’d fought to get to them. She was terribly afraid that he was using up the last dregs of his strength to save her baby.
And she was going to let him do it.
Several blows later, there was a fair-sized hole in the door. Not large enough for her to get through, but plenty of room for William’s safety seat.
“Matt, stop! That’s enough.” Without waiting to hear his response, she ran back to the wall and secured William into his safety seat. Then she took one of the blankets she’d used for warmth, and wrapped it around the seat.
When she looked up, Matt was bracing himself to swing again. “Get back,” he shouted.
His hoarse voice and his pinched face attested to his exhaustion. He was hovering at the end of his strength.
Would he make it to the peak? She had to believe h
e would.
“Matt. There’s no time. Here.”
“What are you doing?” Matt cried. “Another couple of minutes and I’ll have enough room to get you out.”
“No. There’s no time.”
He stared at her as if he didn’t understand what she was saying. After a second, he nodded.
She kissed William and took a precious few seconds to whisper to him. “I swore once I got you back in my arms I’d never ever let you go. You’re the most important thing in my life. You are my life. But I can’t keep you safe here.”
She touched his chin and he giggled, which brought tears to her eyes. “That’s right. It’s too cold here. So Matt’s going to take you someplace where you’ll be safe, and I’ll see you soon, okay? You can trust him. I do.”
She kissed him one last time, then covered the seat with the blanket, and handed it through the broken panes to Matt.
When he reached out his right hand to take the baby seat’s handles, Aimee saw the blood that stained the left sleeve of his parka.
“Matt, you’re bleeding.”
He shook his head. “Not so much anymore.”
“You can’t make it to the peak like this. What happened?”
His grim mouth flattened. The only color in his face came from the bright spots on his cheeks. “I’ll make it. Stay inside. Stay warm. I’ll be back for you,” he rasped.
She blinked away tears. She touched his hand. “I know you will.”
Gripping William’s seat, he turned away.
“Matt,” Aimee called.
He looked over his shoulder at her.
“I trust you.”
For an instant, his gaze held hers, then he nodded and turned. He carefully maneuvered the sloping hill of snow in front of the cabin, holding tightly to the baby seat with his right hand.
Aimee watched him as long as she could. Finally, she had to accept that no matter how hard she strained, she wouldn’t get another glimpse.
The man she’d once thought she could never count on now held her baby’s fate in his hands. And she’d told him the truth.
She trusted him to keep William safe.
She moved back to the center wall, wrapped herself in the remaining blanket, and sat down to wait for Matt to return.
She didn’t allow herself to consider that he might not make it back.
Above her, the snow-laden boards creaked ominously.
MATT HEARD THE HELICOPTER long before he saw it. The rhythmic drone of the propellers was strangely soothing. He matched his pace to the engine’s cadence.
At least he was warming up. Probably the combined efforts of climbing and maintaining his balance with only one arm. Setting the baby seat on a downed tree trunk, he lifted the blanket slightly to check on William. It was the third time he’d peeked.
But no matter how much he lectured himself that he needed to keep the blanket in place so William didn’t get cold, he found it impossible to go more than a few minutes without checking on him.
William was fussy and unhappy, but he’d stopped crying. That worried Matt.
Like he knew anything about kids.
He figured the baby was wet or hungry or both. He hoped that was all that was wrong. But as fussy as William was, whenever Matt checked him, his blue eyes latched on to Matt’s and widened.
“Do you have any idea who I am?” Matt whispered. “I’m your godfather. Not that I deserve to be. I haven’t done a very good job of taking care of you so far, but I’m hoping I can fix that in just a couple of minutes.”
William waved his arms and whined.
“I know. It’s cold. But you’re about to have an adventure that possibly no man your age has experienced.”
His mouth twitched. “That’s right,” he said. “You are a man. A little man right now, but a man. A brave, good man, just like your daddy.”
At that moment, Matt noticed that the sound of the helicopter had gotten louder. The propellers appeared from the other side of the mountain, rising up like the cavalry coming over the hill in a B Western movie.
Matt sat the baby seat down and waved with his right hand.
Deke, in his supercool sunglasses and his helmet and earpiece, waved back. He maneuvered the bird so that he was hovering almost directly over Matt’s head. The downdraft created by the propellers whipped around, lofting the blanket that protected William.
Matt knelt and tucked the corners of the blanket securely around the baby.
When he glanced up, Deke was holding up his satellite phone. Matt reached for his, hoping the battery hadn’t died.
To his relief, he saw that its light was on.
“I’m glad to see you’re still upright. The weather service reported an avalanche, and I could see the results when I flew in.” Deke’s voice was cut by static.
“I rode it. Kinnard and his girl didn’t make it.”
“Damn. Aimee and the baby okay?”
Matt nodded. “Drop a basket,” he yelled into the phone. “You’re taking the baby.”
A surprised expletive slipped from Deke’s lips. Then he recovered. “You got it. Be right back.” The helicopter rose and angled away from the mountain peak.
Matt knew what he was doing. He needed room to hover on autopilot while he secured a rescue basket to a rope.
While he waited, Matt made sure that William was snugly strapped into his safety seat. Then he tucked the blanket in tightly. “Okay, William Matthew Vick. You ready for your great adventure?”
To his utter shock, William giggled. Matt couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He pulled off his glove and traced the baby’s plump cheek with his forefinger.
“You’re as beautiful as your mother,” he whispered, surprised when his voice broke.
Above him Deke was back, maneuvering until he hovered directly over them, blasting them with downdraft. Then he lowered the heavy metal basket. Matt grabbed the cold steel.
Even the slightest movement made his arm shriek with pain. But the only way he could hang on to the basket was to embrace the line with his left arm.
He picked up William’s baby seat and lifted it over and in, then grabbed the bungee cord that was attached to one side and ran it through the handles of the baby seat and secured it to the other side. By the time he completed those maneuvers, he was dizzy and sick with pain.
He looked up, still holding on to the cage, and waved at Deke, who gave him a thumbs-up.
Matt watched, not breathing, as Deke activated the crank that raised the basket. When it was close enough, Deke leaned out and grabbed it, lifting it in through the open door. Once the basket was safely inside, Deke sent Matt another thumbs-up, then held up his satellite phone.
Matt retrieved his phone.
“—the hell’s wrong with your arm?”
“Forget it,” Matt growled. “Get the baby out of here.”
“What about you and Aimee—?”
“You’ll have to put down.”
Deke nodded. “Six hours?”
Matt had racked his brain about where Deke could safely set the helicopter down. The original secondary rendezvous place was a clearing two miles southwest from the cabin. It was probably the best choice.
“Secondary rendezvous,” he yelled into the phone.
Deke shook his head and shrugged. “Wha—?”
The static was growing. Matt knew his phone was about to go dead. “Secon—dary ren—dez—vous,” he enunciated slowly.
Deke ducked his head, listening. Then nodded. “—dary—”
Relief nearly buckled Matt’s knees. Deke had heard him.
“Deke,” he yelled. “Anything on the sabotage?”
Deke shook his head and spoke, but all Matt got was static. He looked at his phone’s display in time to see the battery light go out. It was dead. That was it. This would be the last communication until they were rescued.
If they were rescued. He waved the phone and shook his head.
Deke frowned and then held up six fingers.
Matt nodded and gave Deke the thumbs-up.
Deke returned the gesture, grinning. Then he held up his forefinger, followed by five fingers, then his closed fist, and his closed fist again.
1500 hours. Three p.m.
Matt repeated the signs with his right hand.
Deke mimed a salute, turned the helicopter and flew off.
Matt watched until it disappeared over the edge of the peak. Then he fell to his knees, his stomach heaving and clenching, although he had nothing in it. Then he raked up a small handful of snow and let it dissolve on his tongue, hoping the chill would chase away the queasy dizziness.
The pain in his forearm had become a constant agony, made worse by the numbness in his fingers. He unzipped his parka and tucked his hand inside, hoping to warm his fingers without having to move them. He felt warm blood trickling down his cold arm. He shivered.
Then he staggered to his feet. He had to get back to Aimee. She’d be happy to know that William was safe.
He’d be happy if he could get her safely to the rendezvous point before he collapsed from blood loss.
Chapter Thirteen
SUNDAY 1100 HOURS
It had been almost twenty-four hours with no communication from Kinnard. He hoped to hell the jerk hadn’t run off with the money. He trusted him, but only so far.
He tried Kinnard again. No response. It wasn’t the storm this time. The skies were clear. He tried Kinnard’s girlfriend, too, but no luck there.
Maybe Parker had killed them.
He drummed his fingers on the computer table. Parker could certainly have killed Kinnard. From what he’d seen in the years he’d worked for Black Hills Search and Rescue, it was pretty obvious that Parker would do anything for one of his oath brothers—or for Aimee Vick.
But killing the girl who’d been brought in to take care of the Vick baby—that was another matter. Parker wouldn’t have the stomach for that.
He stood, kicking his desk chair backward. Looking out the window at the Black Hills, he doubled his hands into fists and forced himself to stay calm. Hopefully, Kinnard and the girl were dead. If they’d turned tail and run, all his careful plans could be in jeopardy.
