The Rescue Pilot Page 12

  He’d merely transferred his passion, but he hadn’t improved himself. Maybe this whole airline business of his was the emotional equivalent of a pacifier. Still flying, still busy and still very much the jock aviator.

  “Damn,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I guess I still have a lot of growing up to do.”

  She smiled, giving a quiet laugh. “I think we spend our entire lives trying to grow up. But I’m sure reevaluating.”

  He was, too. And, oddly, he felt more comfortable with it now. Maybe because they’d talked about it.

  They fell silent then, Cait slumbering between them almost like a human signpost, pointing out all the things he’d been ignoring. And maybe Rory, too.

  He watched her fall into her own thoughts, and noted yet again how pretty she was, how very attractive. Her devotion to her sister only enhanced her magnetism.

  He looked at the two women and finally admitted that there was a huge hole in his life. A crater, actually. One he hadn’t even noticed before.

  Chapter 7

  Morning arrived at last. Rory had dozed fitfully in the seat beside her sister, waking at every little sound. She’d been aware of people moving around from time to time, of the exit door opening a little, briefly, to let in fresh air.

  Then the sound of Cait’s breathing caught her attention. She sat bolt upright and listened, seeing Chase in the seat across from her.

  She knew it was morning only because he’d raised the window shade beside him, and faint light filtered in.

  She turned her attention to Cait and heard him say, “I was just thinking about waking you. Her breathing changed just a few minutes ago.”

  Cait’s breaths were shallow, but they rattled a bit, too. Rory felt the sting of panic.

  “I’ll get Wendy,” Chase said.

  Rory nodded, leaning over to wake Cait.

  “Cait? Cait, sweetie, wake up. Please.”

  It took several attempts, but Cait’s eyes at last opened. “I’m so tired,” she whispered.

  “I know, Cait. I know. Do you think you can cough?”

  Cait tried but the effort was weak.

  Then Wendy appeared, looking tousled but fully awake. She listened to Cait’s chest with her ear, and Rory caught the look in her eyes, though it was quickly concealed. Wendy was worried.

  “Okay,” Wendy said. “We’ve got to humidify this air. Chase, more candles. Rory, get that thing you made for boiling water. I want it here on the table. And Chase, can you find anything I can use to tent her so she’ll get the moisture?”

  “I’ve got survival blankets.”

  “That’ll do.”

  All of a sudden the plane was a beehive of activity. Yuma appeared, too, and as soon as they had the chafing dish heating in front of Cait, he and Chase announced that they were going out to build a fire and make some kind of breakfast.

  Rory lifted the window blind beside her, and in the weak light outside could tell only that the blizzard was still raging. Hard to believe that they’d left Seattle less than a day ago. It felt like a lifetime.

  When the plane’s door opened, a blast of arctic air blew in, bringing a cloud of fine snow with it. Rory looked out again after they closed the door and saw the men disappear into the maelstrom of snow. Build a fire in this?

  But that problem couldn’t engage her attention. Cait was all she could think about. She helped Wendy spread a mylar blanket to make a tent to make sure Cait got all the steam from the water that had just begun to boil. She slipped under the tent with her sister to keep an eye on her.

  “I’ll get stuff together and make her a hot drink in the galley,” Wendy said.

  “Thanks.” Rory found her sister’s hand and held it. To her horror, it didn’t feel cool. Too warm? She touched Cait’s cheek gently and was mildly reassured to find that it wasn’t hot. Not feverish. Not yet.

  In their little cocoon, light from the candle reflected off the mylar and made it almost bright. Cait struggled back to wakefulness.

  “Breathe, sweetie,” Rory urged her sister. “The steam will help.”

  Cait surprised her with the shadow of a smile. “At least it’s warm.”

  “Yeah. It is.” The mylar was helping with that, too. “Wendy’s making you something hot to drink. And you need to take your meds again, too.”

  One solitary tear rolled down Cait’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Rory. I’m messing up your life.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Whatever you do, don’t apologize to me. I wish I could do more, not less.”

  “I’m lucky you’re my sister.”

  Rory forced a smile. “I’m glad you’re my sister, too.”

  Cait gave a little laugh, but it barely started to emerge before it vanished in a deep, barking cough.

  “That’s good,” Wendy’s voice said from outside the tent. “Get her to lean forward. I’m going to tap her back.”

  Tap? Rory thought. The way Wendy did it, it was more than a tap. But essential, too. Absolutely essential.

  She wrapped her arm around Cait’s front and bent her forward, making sure she didn’t get too close to the hot water and the candle. Then, Wendy pounded Cait’s back.

  After several tries, Cait coughed again. It still sounded tight, but at least a little seemed to loosen.

  “Five more minutes,” Wendy said. “Then we’ll try again.”

  “I’m sorry I’m so tired,” Cait whispered.

  “Don’t think about it. We’re going to get you to that hospital, and on that new drug. You’re going to get better.” Maybe she was a fool, but she couldn’t allow herself to consider anything else.

  “I almost believe you,” Cait sighed.

  That was an improvement, Rory thought. Small but significant. Will to live, she believed, was as important as any pill or IV, and her greatest source of concern the last few weeks had been Cait’s apparent desire to just give up.

  It took a half hour, but they managed to loosen Cait’s chest enough that her breathing sounded better. And after all that, she still had enough strength to drink some soup and take her pills.

  Wendy had removed the tent, setting it aside, saying they’d use it again in a couple of hours. But she didn’t take the chafing dish away. She added more water to it, humidifying the entire plane.

  “It’s hell out there” was Chase’s pronouncement as he and Yuma finally returned to the cabin, having successfully managed to throw together a meal, a stew made of whatever foods they had onboard that they thought would go together reasonably well.

  To Rory it tasted like ambrosia. It didn’t matter what was in it, only that it was full of calories. They finished off with hot coffee, and even though she liked her coffee black, she added sugar for fuel.

  They huddled close while they ate, and lit more candles for warmth. Under other circumstances it would have felt cozy.

  But Rory’s mental clock was ticking loudly again. Three more days of medicine for her sister, and now breathing problems for which they had no treatment but a jerry-rigged humidifier. The fear she had been feeling since she learned of her sister’s illness ramped up again, agitating her, making it almost impossible for her to hold still.

  But there wasn’t a damn thing she could do.

  “Maybe when this storm clears,” Yuma said, “I can figure out where we are. I used to walk all over these mountains. I might recognize a landmark.”

  “That would help,” Chase said. “Especially if I can get the radio to work. Then it won’t matter so much if the GPS doesn’t come back up.”

  Rory perked up a bit, feeling a ray of hope. “You mean we could find our own way out of here?”

  “That’ll depend,” Yuma said.

  “Well, obviously. It’s just good to know there might be an option other than hoping the beacon works, and works soon enough.”

  “Not a great option,” Chase warned her. “Getting down these mountains through fresh snowfall will be challenging.”

  Rory glanced over at
Cait, sending a clear message. Cait’s condition made it impossible for them to wait. The clock just kept ticking. In fact, it seemed to be accelerating, especially with Cait’s new breathing problem.

  But she knew now that everyone on this plane cared about getting Cait out of here alive. If this had to happen, she couldn’t have asked for a better group of companions.

  After breakfast they tented Cait again while the guys went out to wash dishes over the fire in the snow. It was still blowing so hard that when Rory glanced out, she could barely see them, and the fire looked dim.

  Another fifteen minutes of steam, and Cait began to cough hard. Rory felt another prick of fear, because there was no ignoring the fact that Cait was coughing way too much to be explained away simply by her being so exhausted and not breathing deeply enough.

  Again she caught that look of concern in Wendy’s gaze. Cait had no resistance left and was taking drugs that suppressed her immune system. If she was developing pneumonia, it would hit her fast and hard. Maybe too fast to get her out of here.

  But Wendy laid her hand on Cait’s forehead, then nodded. “No fever.”

  “But this congestion could cause serious problems, right?”

  “If we don’t keep on top of it. We’ll keep at it, though. I promise.”

  Cait had fallen back to sleep as soon as she cleared her lungs, and apparently didn’t hear their concern. Good. Rory figured her sister didn’t need another complication, most especially another reason to give up hope. She feared Cait would do exactly that, too, after what she’d seen in her these past few weeks. Never in her worst imaginings had she thought Cait would just want to give up. It seemed so unlike the Cait she used to be, and was probably the best indicator of just how bad Cait felt.

  Rory could hardly stand to think about it. Never had she reached a point in her life where she might have wanted to die, but when she imagined how her sister must be feeling to want to give up this way, the pain became almost unendurable.

  “We’ve got to get her to drink more,” Wendy went on. “It’s essential. Lots of sweet tea and soup. As much as we can get into her. She needs the calories and she needs the fluids to keep her chest loose. Every half hour if we can.”

  Rory nodded, adding another ticking clock to the one at the back of her mind. “I’ll keep on it.”

  “We both will.”

  Time might be running out even faster than she had thought. She wasn’t much of a praying woman, but lately she’d been praying a lot. Now she added another prayer, begging God for mercy for her sister.

  Chase disappeared into the cockpit again, determined to see what he could do with the GPS and radio communication. He emerged a long time later, looking grim. In answer to their questioning looks, he shrugged.

  “Nothing.”

  But the storm was still blowing heavily, rescue was out of the question until it passed, and maybe that was the only thing wrong with their communications. They couldn’t be sure until the storm subsided.

  That was an uncertainty she had to live with, like it or not. She loathed it.

  “I think,” Chase said, “that we need to take alternating naps throughout the day. None of us got enough sleep last night, and tonight we’ll still have to keep watch.” He paused. “From what I recall of this storm system, it should clear out sometime late tonight or early tomorrow morning. We need to be rested and ready to deal with whatever we have to do.”

  Rory didn’t think she could sleep, so Wendy and Yuma agreed to take the first nap. Chase sat across from her again, and Rory noticed that he looked at Cait with real concern.

  “We’ll get her out of here,” he said yet again. “One way or another if I have to carry her down this mountain on my back.”

  It didn’t sound like bravado, but rather like real determination. Rory felt a rush of warmth toward him.

  “I’m scared,” she admitted, not an easy thing for her to do. Admitting mistakes was one thing; admitting fear entirely another. In her life she had to always keep her fear hidden, because there was a danger the men she worked with would see it as weakness. As a result, she’d come to see it as weakness, too. But she could no longer pretend it didn’t exist. She was terrified of losing Cait.

  His gray eyes settled on her. “Only a fool wouldn’t be scared right now, and your sister’s situation only makes it worse. But we’ll get her out of here.”

  “You can’t really promise that.” Her voice broke, and she realized with horror that she was on the verge of tears. “Oh, God,” she said quietly, her voice thickening. “I can’t break down.”

  “Why not? Sometimes it helps. Cry if you need to. God knows, you’ve got plenty of reasons.”

  “I’m so worried.”

  He nodded. “I don’t like that coughing, either. I’ll help when you need to tent her again.”

  “Thanks.”

  He startled her by reaching across the table and clasping her hand. The warmth and contact felt good, so she turned hers over so they were palm to palm. He squeezed gently.

  “Last night,” he started to say.

  She cut him off. “We don’t have to discuss it. It happened.”

  He frowned. “Was it that bad?”

  Her head jerked backward in surprise. “I didn’t say that.”

  A slow, sexy smile came to his face. “Ah.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “Chase, please. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “I do. I did.” His smile widened a shade. “Do you hate me for it?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Well, then. I wanted to hate myself for it, but I enjoyed it too much. You really are one sexy woman.”

  She gaped at him, then glanced quickly at Cait. Her sister still slept. “Me?” she said finally, quietly. “Not me. And certainly not now. I haven’t showered since yesterday morning, I haven’t changed my clothes, I feel like something that ought to be in the dustbin.”

  “Funny, that isn’t turning me off at all.”

  She told herself he was just trying to distract her from her worries, and maybe he was. But no, the glint in his eyes said he meant every word.

  “I just thought,” he continued, “that since I took advantage of you last night instead of just keeping you warm, I ought to be a gentleman and tell you it was wonderful. And not at all meaningless.”

  “How could it mean anything? You don’t know me.” But she liked the part about it being wonderful. A trickle of warmth wended its way to her center.

  “It meant something. I’m thirty-six years old, Rory.

  I don’t do that with just anyone. And I figured you had a right to know that. I’m not sixteen anymore.”

  Her cheeks grew hotter. Mainly because she was basically inexperienced with this kind of conversation. Only once since college had she made love with a man because she spent all her time making sure her conduct was professional and that nothing she did would make any man perceive her as a sexual being. That was particularly important in the places where she worked. Gossip could grow fast, and undermine her authority.

  “As for not knowing you,” he continued quietly, “I think you’re wrong. I don’t know all your historical details, but I’ve had the opportunity to watch you under tremendous pressure. Times like these show our real character, believe me.”

  He had a point, she admitted. In these conditions you either stepped up or you fell down. A lot could be learned.

  In fact, thinking about it, she realized that she knew the truly important things about Chase now. Not just that he was a great pilot, but that he took care of the people in his charge. He was strong, determined and even kind.

  Kind enough to promise to get Cait out of here if he had to carry her on his back. The kind of man you’d want at your side in hard times. That said a lot.

  “Anyway,” he said, “I just wanted you to know. Last night happened because you, not anybody else, make me hot enough to forget the niceties. No roses, no dinner, no champagne. Shoot, that’ll have to wait for anothe
r day. In fact, I’m going to ask you right now for a date.”

  “A date?” She almost could have laughed, given their circumstances, but she knew it would probably sound bitter.

  “A date. The first one won’t be much, sorry to say. But the second one, after we get out of here and take care of your sister…well, then I’ll do all the special things. So, I guess I’m asking for two dates. Will you say yes?”

  But she hesitated long enough to ask, “Why me?”

  “Because of your love for your sister. And because you’re so sexy. So, yes? No?”

  “Yes,” she said finally, telling herself he’d probably forget all about her as soon as they got out of here.

  “Good. This first date, your sister is invited along. Let’s have some hot drinks and see if we can’t get some down her as well. And then I’m going to tell you what you made me realize about myself.”

  That instantly piqued her curiosity. He wouldn’t let her help, but insisted on making coffee for them and tea for Cait. He also astonished her with a blueberry muffin.

  “My weakness,” he said as he put it in front of her on a napkin. “I never travel without them. I was saving them for dinner, but I think I have enough for us to have one now.”

  In spite of everything, she began to smile. When he brought the drinks, she woke Cait gently.

  Chase pushed out of his seat and squatted beside Cait. “Hi, Cait. I’m Chase. I’m the guy who crashed the plane.”

  Cait blinked. Then she looked more closely at him, showing a spark of real interest that thrilled Rory. “I thought you saved us from crashing.”

  “Well, I couldn’t exactly prevent it. But I wanted to ask your permission to date your sister.”

  At that a weak little laugh escaped Cait. Rory’s heart swelled until she thought it would burst.

  “Is that a yes?” Chase asked.

  “Yes,” Cait whispered. “If she agrees.”

  “I think she just did. Can you drink some tea? I made it special for you.”

  “Sure.” Another whisper.

  Chase reached for the cup on the table before Rory could, and brought it to Cait’s lips. “You are one special lady,” he said as Cait sipped.