“Well aren’t you the little matchmaker?” Billie teased.
“You have no idea. I’m working on Aiden next.”
“Good luck with that. He seems pretty focused on work and on search and rescue.”
“Ah, but a life without love is a life half lived, don’t you think?”
Suddenly a man stepped into their path, a tall, handsome man with striking blue eyes. He looked like Quinn, wait...it was Quinn. Billie stopped short.
“Breathe, girlfriend,” Bree said.
Quinn approached them wearing a nervous smile. Billie knew it was the nervous one because she knew all of his expressions and most of his moods.
“Bree,” he greeted.
She smiled. “Quinn. You’ve come an awfully long way for church.”
“How true,” he said, gazing into Billie’s eyes.
“I’ll save us a few seats.” With a knowing smile, Bree left them alone.
Quinn reached out and Billie slipped her hand in his.
“‘Love is patient, love is kind.’” He smiled. “I looked it up.”
“You’re here,” she hushed.
“You made me cookies.”
“I know, but—”
“You know the part that really got to me?”
She shook her head, still stunned that Quinn was standing here holding her hand.
“‘It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres,’” he said. “Just like you. You’re a kind of love I’ve never experienced, Billie. Please forgive me for not recognizing it sooner, for being...” he hesitated and glanced at their hands “...for being scared, I guess.”
“Oh, Quinn, you have my forgiveness and my love.” She threw her arms around his neck and clung tight, letting the tears of joy trickle down her cheeks. He stroked her back in such a calming, tender way.
She broke the embrace and he frowned with worry. “You’re crying.”
“I’m happy, Quinn, so incredibly happy.”
“You haven’t heard the best part.” He dropped to one knee and pulled a black box out of his pocket. “Will you marry me?”
She slapped her hand over her open mouth, so humbled and overjoyed.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded enthusiastically, unable to speak.
He took the ring out of the box, slipped it onto her finger and stood. It was a beautiful, solitaire diamond in a white-gold setting. Quinn’s proposal was everything she’d ever dreamed of.
No, it was better.
With that playful smile of his, he framed her cheek in his hand, leaned forward and kissed her. He tasted perfect, of love and hope; of infinite possibilities between a husband and wife.
The ringing of church bells sounded behind them. He broke the kiss and smiled. “Shall we?”
“Are you...sure?” she said.
“With all my heart.”
Interlacing his fingers with hers, Quinn led Billie toward the house of God and a wonderful life together.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Mountain Ambush by Hope White.
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Mountain Ambush
by Hope White
ONE
I’m going to die.
The text shot adrenaline through Dr. Kyle Spencer’s body. In less than a minute he’d packed his gear and was heading into the mountains.
Can’t make it down on my own.
Spence sprinted up the trail, his muscles burning from the strain of carrying the pack across his shoulders. He couldn’t think about that now, couldn’t be concerned about his own discomfort when Gwen Taylor was stranded in the mountains, cold, immobile and most likely terrified.
He had to get to her.
He’d read desperation in the teenager’s eyes when she’d been brought in with a drug overdose a few weeks ago. No matter how hard she’d tried to push people away, Spence’s gut told him she wanted help, she didn’t like using drugs and alcohol to manage her depression, and the overconsumption had been an accident.
Her last text message had confirmed his suspicions: I don’t want to die.
He’d given her his cell number in case she had any questions after she’d been released from the hospital. That wasn’t his usual practice, but he occasionally felt it necessary. Now he was glad he’d given it to Gwen.
Spence called to speak with her, calm her down, but she didn’t answer. Had she taken drugs with her into the mountains, planning to end her life, but changed her mind and had injured herself?
Wiping sweat from his forehead, he inhaled the crisp scent of mountain air and hoped the search-and-rescue team was close behind. He’d left a voice mail for his friend Police Chief Nate Walsh, alerting him to Gwen’s situation. He wasn’t sure how long it would take Search and Rescue to assemble, but Spence couldn’t wait for his team. Gwen could be seriously injured.
An image of his little brother sparked across his mind. His boots slipped on the wet ground and he skidded toward the edge of the trail. Arms flailing, he caught hold of a nearby tree branch and stopped his momentum. He paused and took a calming breath before continuing up the trail.
The memory of his brother’s injuries had disrupted Spence’s concentration. It had happened twenty years ago, yet felt like yesterday. He resented the distraction. He couldn’t let his personal failure affect his ability to save Gwen.
Helping people, saving lives, lessened the guilt about Bobby’s death. Maybe if he helped enough patients he’d be able to release the torturous thoughts that kept him up at night. And maybe, God willing, he’d find peace.
God willing? It was simply an expression. Spence didn’t believe in a God who could let his brother die at only eight years old.
A gust of wind shoved him against the mountainside but he held his ground, slowing down a bit to ease the resistance. Spence was no good to the team if he ended up needing to be rescued himself.
The sound of a woman’s scream echoed across the mountain range. He hesitated.
Listened.
The wind howled back at him.
Had he imagined it?
A second ear-piercing scream sent him into action, running uphill against the blustery wind. Hyper-focused, Spence controlled his breathing for maximum efficiency and sidestepped every rock and tree root popping up on the trail.
He rounded a corner and spotted Gwen flat on her back, motionless. Rushing to her side, he felt for a pulse. It was weak. Blood oozed from her scalp and her skin was cool and pale.
T
he first sixty minutes after a patient suffered a trauma were critical to her survival. That was why ER doctors called it the golden hour.
I don’t want to die.
Spence automatically did his ABCs: airway, breathing and circulation. Her breathing seemed labored, which meant an occluded airway and that intubation would be necessary.
He pulled out his phone to call for help. They’d need a helicopter rescue, no question.
Something smashed against the side of his head and he flew backward, hitting the ground. Spence struggled to make sense of what was happening. Firm hands grabbed his jacket collar and dragged him toward the edge of the trail.
And the steep drop down the mountainside.
Through the haze of a possible concussion, Spence wondered if his attacker was a drug dealer, one of Gwen’s troubled friends? Had he sold Gwen drugs she may have overused, and the criminal didn’t want to get caught and go to jail?
“I don’t care what you’ve done,” Spence said. “Just let me take care of Gwen.”
The guy pressed what felt like the barrel of a gun against the back of Spence’s head.
“You’re done taking care of people,” the man threatened, and continued dragging him across the hard ground.
Anger seared its way up Spence’s chest. This couldn’t be his last day on earth. He hadn’t saved enough lives, wasn’t anywhere close to earning redemption.
Spence fought off his attacker, reaching for the guy’s arm.
The man pistol-whipped him. Pain seared through Spence’s brain.
The ledge loomed closer...
“Listen to the sound of His glory,” a woman’s voice echoed.
Momentarily distracted, the assailant loosened his grip.
Spence grabbed his wrist and yanked hard. The attacker lost his balance, stumbled and fell to the ground.
The gun sprang from his hand.
Spence dived on top of him and pulled his arms behind his back, wishing he had something to bind his wrists.
A gasping sound drew his attention to Gwen. Her airway was closing up. Not good. He had to get to her before she stopped breathing altogether.
The attacker swung his fist backward and nailed Spence in the jaw. The guy scrambled out from under him, jumped to his feet and began kicking Spence in the ribs.
Spence rolled, hoping to get to the gun before the attacker did. But his head snapped back and slammed against a rock. More stars sparked across his vision.
A shot rang out.
This was it. The end.
Yet Spence didn’t feel the burn of a bullet ripping through his flesh.
He didn’t feel much of anything as he stared up at the gray sky.
I’m coming, Bobby. I’m coming...
* * *
“Freeze!” Maddie McBride ordered the attacker.
Maddie obviously knew her way around a gun better than this birdbrain who was kicking the stuffing out of Dr. Dreamboat.
As she aimed the weapon at the attacker’s back, she heard her father’s voice from childhood: never aim a gun at something you aren’t prepared to destroy.
Well, this might be the day she destroyed another human being. Not something she wanted to do, but she might not have a choice. Her priority was to save the doc and the injured female on the ground.
The guy stood very still for a few seconds, and then kicked the doc again.
“I said freeze, turkey, or the next one’s going in your back.”
He slowly turned, and she swallowed a ball of fear knotting in her throat. Talk about creepy-looking. The guy wore a black face mask that covered everything but his dark gray eyes. More like black—they looked black as coal.
“Not another step,” she said, but even Maddie could see her hands were trembling from the adrenaline rush.
“You wouldn’t shoot me.” He took a step toward her.
Maddie fired off a round at his feet, coming dangerously close to taking off his big toe in those ridiculous blue sneakers.
He jumped back, his eyes darkening even more.
She didn’t have the patience for this, she really didn’t. She’d been on a hike, saw the text go out, and decided to stop by and offer medical assistance.
Things got a lot more complicated.
“Down on your knees,” she said. “Interlace your hands behind your head.”
She calmed her breathing. If he lunged at her, she’d have to shoot him. Time froze in those few seconds.
She thought a smile curled his lips.
Her finger braced against the trigger.
Then he spun around and took off.
“Hey! Get back here!” She fired a shot into the air.
The guy instinctively ducked, and tripped. He hit the ground, rolling...
Over the edge of the trail into the abyss below.
She rushed to the edge and looked down into the lush green forest. There was no sign of him or any movement at all. Great, now they’d have to send a second team to rescue that jerk.
At least he was no longer a threat and she could concentrate on the injured doc and unconscious female. Maddie engaged the safety and shoved the gun into her waistband. “Hey, Doc, you okay?” She knelt beside him.
He blinked and looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy. He struggled to sit up.
“Whoa, whoa, take it easy.”
He waved her off and sat up, shaking his head as if to clear the cobwebs. Glancing beyond her he said, “You shot him?”
“Yeah, I shot him,” she quipped, then read his worried expression. “Doc, I’m kidding.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“I fired to get his attention and he fell off the trail.” She handed him the gun. “Hang on to this in case he comes back.”
His eyes widened as he stared at the gun.
“Or maybe not.” She tucked the gun back into her waistband and shucked her backpack.
“You shot at him?” Dr. Spencer was frowning at her. Really? She’d saved his life and he was judging her for discharging the weapon?
“What’s the status of the victim?” Shoving his judgment aside, she went to the female lying motionless on the ground. “Hang on, I know this girl.” As a paramedic, Maddie and her partner Rocky had rushed this girl to the hospital for a drug overdose a few weeks ago. “This is—”
“Gwen,” he offered.
“What have we got, forty, forty-five minutes left?”
She glanced at Dr. Spencer for confirmation. He was looking around as if trying to figure out how he’d ended up out here. Oh boy, maybe it wasn’t judgment she’d read in his eyes a moment ago as much as confusion. Could Dr. Dreamboat be suffering from a head injury courtesy of the masked creep?
She clicked on her small flashlight and checked his pupils. The man had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. “Do you know where you are, Dr. Spencer?”
“Of course I do. I’m fine.” He batted her hand away and went to Gwen, as if Maddie’s offensive question had snapped him into action.
Good. He was okay. He had to be okay so he could help her treat Gwen.
Dr. Dreamboat, as the ladies in town called him, was not only a skilled doc but he had a charming bedside manner that made young women, old women, pretty much all women line up to date him.
Not Maddie. She wasn’t buying Dr. Spencer’s smooth charm and overconfidence. No one was that perfect. Besides, Echo Mountain was a temporary stop for the cosmopolitan doc, and she belonged here, with her friends and family.
“You need to keep her head steady,” he said.
“Are you sure—?”
“Occluded airway. I don’t see a better option.”
Maddie was about to offer to take over, but the doctor seemed suddenly confident about doing an intubation in the middle of a national forest with a heavy wind sw
irling around them. Maddie positioned Gwen’s head just right.
“Ready?” he said, making eye contact.
“Are you?” she said.
The doctor ignored her question and used a laryngoscope to hold the tongue aside while inserting the endotracheal tube. Done properly, this would allow air to pass to and from the lungs.
Maddie realized she was holding her breath. It seemed like it was taking forever.
“I think...” His voice trailed off.
Gwen’s skin suddenly looked better, pinker, and her chest began to rise and fall.
“Whoa, what happened?” a man said.
Maddie recognized her cousin Aiden’s voice behind her but she remained focused on the patient. Although employed as Echo Mountain Resort Manager, Aiden also volunteered for search and rescue. Boy was she glad SAR had officially arrived.
“Spence?” Aiden said.
“Occluded airway. Had to intubate,” Dr. Spencer said. “We need...” He hesitated before saying, “A helicopter.”
“I’m on it.” Aiden called it in.
Maddie studied the doctor. He seemed a little off and not acting like his usual charming self.
“Someone needs to monitor her pulse and...” He glanced at Maddie.
Her breath caught in her throat at the confused look in his eyes.
“Bag her,” Maddie offered.
“Yes, bag her,” Dr. Spencer said.
SAR volunteer Luke Marshall knelt and monitored Gwen’s pulse, while local firefighter Sam Treadwell helped her breathe using the vinyl bag.
“Helicopter is on the way, Doc,” Aiden said. “Why does Maddie have a gun in her jeans?”
Dr. Spencer glanced at Maddie as if he wasn’t sure.
“A guy in a black ski mask attacked Dr. Spencer,” Maddie started, hoping the doc would join in. He didn’t, so she continued, not taking her eyes off him. “I got the guy’s gun and he ran. Fell off the trail over there.” She pointed. “They’ll want to send another search team, with police officers.”
“Why’d he attack you, Spence?” Aiden asked.
The doctor shot him a confused look. Maddie’s skin pricked with goosebumps.
Mountain Pursuit: Smoky Mountain Investigation ; Mountain Rescue Page 40
