Authors: Kimberley Woodhouse
He jerked onto his other side. What an idiot. He'd sat there while she opened her heart. Trusting him. And when she'd talked about Marc's death, he wanted to rip his own heart out of his chest. What would she do when she discovered Marc's death was no accident?
That her husband had been murdered?
What would Andie think?
She
trusted him. How would she see him after hearing the truth?
With a groan, Cole flopped onto his back. This was ridiculous! And exhausting.
Go to sleep, Maddox. Forget all this and just go to sleep.
He let his eyes drift shut . . .
How was he going to explain to a twelve-year-old that her dad had been killed for a program? A program for missile defense—war.
A program her dad had sold to the highest bidder.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JENNA
April 11
Sultana, Denali National Park
6:30 a.m.
Too hot. The fever raged inside her. She struggled to open her eyes. Images swirled around. A soft rustling sound. Hopefully it was Cole who was awake.
"Cole?" It took every ounce of energy to push out the whisper.
More rustling. "I'm here."
"W-water. Please."
She strained to watch him move around and reach for the water. His outline rimmed with a haze. How long did she have? The infection was getting worse.
After a sip, she grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him close so he could hear her words. "This is bigger than you or me, Cole."
"What are you talking about?"
"I asked you to promise me to take care of Andie." A chill rushed through her as sweat beaded on her forehead from the effort. "But that wasn't completely fair. Yes, I need you to get us out of this, to make sure my daughter is protected and safe, but the only way you can accomplish that is with God's help. You've got to trust Him, Cole."
He leaned back, but she tugged at him, keeping her grip.
"Jenna, I've seen what trusting God can do. And I don't buy it."
Another chill racked her body and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She already cared too much . . .
God, what made him so bitter?
His eyes narrowed, filled with anger. "My wife trusted God. She prayed for me. For years. And you know where her trust got her?"
Jenna shook her head. He'd been married? "W-where?"
"Dead."
A soft gasp rose out of her throat.
"And not just her. But our daughter as well. All those prayers. All that trust. And
He
allowed them to be run down by some drunken fool while they were on their way to the park."
Such loss. This explained so much. "Cole, God didn't run down your family."
"Believe whatever you want, Jenna. But He and I aren't on any kind of speaking or trusting terms. I don't need His help. I've got it under control. I just wish the circumstances were different."
"Of course you do, I do too—but circumstances don't change who God is. Any more than they change our need for Him." Her body shook from another chill that seemed to ravage all her insides. Jenna closed her eyes and lay back.
"Jenna?" Cole's concern was evident as his gentle hands gripped her face.
She lifted her lids a brief moment and licked her lips. "No matter what happens, Cole. I will still trust Him."
As the haze engulfed her again, she heard his soft words. "Amanda would've said the same thing . . ."
COLE
7:21 a.m.
"Cole?" A voice penetrated his deep sleep. "Cole? Wake up."
Something kept pushing on his shoulder. He opened his eyes. "Huh?"
"Wake up." Andie's face hovered over his, but it was the fear in her voice that had him fully awake. "I'm worried about Mom." She rubbed her eyes.
He had his bag unzipped and was at Jenna's side in a heartbeat. "Okay, let me check her."
Andie watched him, eyes wide. "Thanks. She feels awfully hot to me, but I'm not the best judge. Is she gonna be all right? Isn't there anything else we can do to help her?"
"She needs more water." Cole touched his hand to her forehead.
She's burning up.
Their last conversation still burned in his mind. Her simple words echoing a haunting harmony with the memory of Amanda's voice.
Andie scooted closer in the cramped space. "What do you want me to do?"
"Here, hold her head up a little, and I'll try to get some water down her throat."
Working together, they managed to get Jenna to swallow some water, but as the night wore on, Cole grew more concerned.
"I'm worried, Cole."
"Me too, Squirt." He unzipped Jenna's sleeping bag again. She must have covered back up last night. We've got to bring her temperature down. Bring in some clean snow, we'll melt and refill the water bottles. And you can keep trickling small amounts into her mouth."
Andie nodded at him, biting her lip. Tears stood on her lashes, ready to spill down her cheeks.
He patted her arm. "It'll be okay. We're getting off this mountain. Just watch."
Her eyes seemed to search his soul. The heartache he saw there bolstered his resolve to do everything in his power to protect them.
As she turned to leave, he squeezed her shoulder. "I promised, Andie. And I don't go back on my promises."
Another slight nod, the faint glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Go on, when you get back I want to check out your ankle."
She ducked her head.
That, more than anything else, told him he'd allowed her to avoid it way too long. He'd been distracted when Jenna collapsed, back when he first asked Andie about the ankle. But now that Andie would have to hike again, it was time to pull rank. "We've got a long way to go, and I need to make sure you're okay. The sled is only big enough for your mom and her pack. So we'll give your mom some more water, try to get her to swallow some Tylenol, and then head out."
"Okay."
Jenna's fever seemed worse every time he touched her skin. They managed a few more sips of water down her throat, but she needed an IV, and fast.
He turned to Andie, softening his next words. "Andie, I need you to shoot straight with me about your ankle. What happened?"
She brushed her hands over her mom's forehead and kissed it. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders before looking up at him. "I fell down."
"That's obvious, Einstein. But did you feel anything? See anything?"
"Feel? You've got to be kidding me! I don't feel things like normal people, remember?"
"Fair enough, but did you see anything? Did your ankle start doing anything strange?"
"Yeah, it kept buckling."
"And you kept this from me because . . . ?"
"You had enough to worry about! And I didn't want to be the cause of slowing everyone down."
Cole grit his teeth. "You can be as infuriating as your mother." He stopped the frustrated words. Last thing the kid needed was for him to heap guilt on her. "Andie, listen. I just want to take care of you, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what's going on."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Just don't do it again"—he tweaked her nose, drawing a smile from her—"and give me your leg so I can check it out."
She stuck her leg out in his direction.
The laces on her left boot were stretched taut over the swollen limb. He worked the boot off, stealing glances at Andie's face. She never flinched, but seemed captivated by her injury. As he pulled off three layers of socks, he grimaced at the purple, green, and yellow skin that greeted him. "You did a number on it, all right." He probed the bones under the skin. "It doesn't seem broken, but it's definitely sprained."
"Just a sprain?"
He glanced at her face and almost burst out laughing on the disappointment there. Crazy kid. Ever the daredevil. "A bad sprain."
That perked her up. "How bad?"
"On a scale of one to ten? Fifteen."
"Cool!" She touched her swollen skin and it squished under the pressure.
He inspected the injury, lips twitching as she continued to stare and poke. Now if only she hadn't done any permanent damage walking and falling on it. "Tell me about your heritage. What does your last name mean?"
"We're Ahtna-Athabaskan, but
you
already know that." She poked his arm. "At least, if you were paying attention when you were supposed to, Mr. Mission. Mom's maiden name was Tikaani—that means
wolf
in Athabaskan—and she wanted to pass on our heritage to me, so she kept the name and hyphenated it."
"Makes sense." Cole continued to work on her ankle and then chuckled to himself. "So, in essence, your last name means wolf . . . gray . . . gray wolf."
Andie rolled her eyes. "Wow. I'm amazed. You figured that one out all by yourself."
Laughter echoed in the tiny space, filling every crack and crevice and warming his heart.
ANDIE
7:28 a.m.
"Cole, why were you on our plane?"
Cole's eyes shot up and met mine as he sat in front of me, wrapping my ankle.
I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms. "Well?" he would answer me whether he liked it or not.
"I bet you're pretty scared, huh?"
"Maybe. But you're changing the subject." I leaned back against the snow/ice wall of my tunnel. My stomach flip-flopped.
God? I need some answers.
"So? Why were you on our plane?"
And if you change the subject, so help me I will throw you outside in the snow!
"Andie—"
"No! Don't you dare change the subject." I was shaking and didn't even know why. "You told me to shoot straight with you, so now you have to shoot straight with me."
He glared.
"If you won't answer that question, then answer this one." I sat up and tucked my legs underneath me. "Did you know what was going to happen to us, to the plane?"
He still didn't answer.
"Why were you on our plane?"
Cole sighed and tipped his head, looking at me. "Andie the Interrogator strikes again."
I blinked back tears. Now he was just trying to get me scared. It wouldn't work. "I have every right to question you."
"Yes, but you won't give me time to collect my thoughts to answer your questions."
I turned away. Several moments slid by. "Okay then, I'll give you two minutes. By then you'd better have a good answer. A true answer."
He leaned back, closing his eyes. I could almost see the wheels inside his head turning.
My throat was all tight and choked. What kind of story would he come up with? Would it be true or made up? I tried to focus on something else.
"Okay. Here it is."
———
"Go right ahead. I can't wait to see what you've come up with." My eyes narrowed to slits.
It'd better be the truth
.
His jaw clenched. "Fine. I was on your plane because I made a promise to your dad."
I searched his eyes. Then nodded. "Okay. And?"
"And that's all I can tell you right now."
I just stared at him. He was lying. But then again, Dad used to say he couldn't talk about some things too. Did they really know each other?
He sighed. "I'll tell you more when your mom wakes up. For now, let's just clean up this mess."
"Fine. Whatever."
I started cleaning. "Men. This is why I'll never get married."
Cole's brow lifted, and a little smile pulled at his mouth. But he didn't say anything.
I kept going. "Boys are clueless. They can't answer simple questions, and they want to control everything." I blinked back more tears.
Just like Daddy.
We cleaned up the little area.
"So what do you want to do now?" I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back.
"You won't interrogate me further?"
"Fine. Let's just talk." A smile crept onto my lips. "Did you hear about what happened at the football game last night?"
It didn't work, my voice squeaked. Cole chuckled. "It's not even football season."
"Oh. Well, then . . ." I grabbed the sleeping bag and pulled it over my lap to use as a blanket. "Wanna come sit?"
Cole shrugged and crawled over.
As he sat down, I tucked the sleeping bag around his lap. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I snuggled up against his side, welcoming the warmth. My dad used to sit with me like that. A stray tear worked its way out from under my lashes.
"You okay? Worried about getting off this mountain?"
I did
not
want to talk about dying up here. I guess he could tell, because he changed the topic.
"Why don't you tell me about that vest of yours."
I took a deep breath. No. I would not let our circumstances push me down to the depths of despair.
Just don't think about it.
"Well, the phase-changing cooling stuff inside the packets was originally designed by NASA, they have some sort of special formula or . . . something in them. Anyway, you put them in the freezer or in ice cold water and they freeze kinda like ice. Although, they last longer than ice cubes. And only stay about fifty-seven degrees."
"So, do they cool you down?"
"Yep. The packets absorb my body heat. As they melt they go from a foggy white solid to a clear liquid. Once they're clear and mushy, they have to be changed out and 'recharged.'"
"How long does it last?"
"Depends on how hot I am. If it's not too hot, it can last a couple hours. But if it is really hot, then sometimes we have to change them out every fifteen to thirty minutes."
"Wow."
"Yeah, I'm really thankful for it."
"I can see why. And I can also see why your mom insisted on taking them with us."
"Yeah. She's great like that."
Cole nodded.
"Mom's really protective. She doesn't let anyone see what she's feeling inside. Ever since Dad . . ." Memories crashed in like a tsunami attacking my brain. I swallowed back tears.
It's no fun being a girl.
"Well, ever since then, she hasn't been the same." I just sat there, fiddling with my thumbs.
"Squirt, you okay?"
What would he do if I told him how scared I was?
I shrugged. "I guess."
He looked down at me. I could tell he wanted to say something. Wanted to have a serious talk. "Don't worry, Squirt. I'm gonna protect you and your mom."