Authors: Kimberley Woodhouse
"Andie?"
Cole's voice drifted through my foggy mind. His hand lay on my coat-covered, sore shoulder.
"Andie, I can see them, they're almost here."
I nodded. The sound of helicopter blades echoed in my head.
Shouting.
Someone's strong arms picking me up.
Heat.
Everything was a blur.
God, are You picking me up? Are You bringing me to heaven? Do I get to see Daddy again? Daddy . . .
Mom? Where's Mom?
Fuzziness was taking over, and sense was no match for its overpowering pull. A white light shone bright in front of me.
I'm dying.
Something soothing was poured into my mouth. After a few moments, my blurry eyes focused.
We were in a helicopter, Mom was attached to machines, and I leaned against someone.
Cole. What's going on? I thought I was going to heaven to see Dad.
I sat up straight.
Cole turned to face me. "Hey, Squirt. You okay?"
Searching his eyes was like looking into a brown hurricane of emotions. First he appeared sad, then concerned, then gentle.
"Cole?" My throat didn't cooperate and my words came out in a croak. Why was I still there?
I'd rather be with Daddy than here!
"I'm here, Squirt." Cole's eyes seemed to search my soul.
Though thankful to be alive, I couldn't help the niggling feeling of disappointment that I didn't get to see Dad again.
God? What are You doing?
Someone had taken off my goggles and ski mask and wrapped me in a blanket.
"Andie?"
My tears started falling and the sobs came again. Cole pulled me back in his strong arms.
Why couldn't the arms be Dad's? What stopped me from going to heaven? What was God planning?
I glanced over at Mom. She wouldn't want me to die.
But if I'm not going to die, she can't die.
My heart exploded with mixed emotions. Relief and disappointment. Thankfulness and anger.
God, I can't live without my mom. What are You doing?
I knew I just had to believe.
But, what if I can't?
I squeezed Cole.
His gentle squeeze back calmed my riled-up heart.
I sighed.
Okay God, it's up to You now. Take us and do what You want. Even . . .
I swallowed hard.
Even if it means death.
As I drifted into sleep, familiar, gentle words rang in my mind:
Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ZOYA
April 11
North Pole, Alaska
10:45 p.m.
I sat on our couch as Mom made yet another phone call. Night and day she'd kept at it.
It's okay, Zoya. They're fine.
I couldn't stop thinking about my dream. Every part of it terrified me. Every image haunted and lingered in my mind as the scenes replayed over and over.
Dasha and Sasha sat at my feet. Even though they were dogs, I could tell they understood something was wrong. How could they not?
What a week. After the first day and no word from Auntie Jenna and Andie, Mom contacted the police. Nobody knew anything. Then she called the press. The phone rang off the hook from friends and family calling. But there was still nothing.
At least they were digging.
Andie was in trouble. Big trouble. My stomach's rolling told me that was true. But I didn't want to believe it.
God, what's going on?
"Honey?"
I stood up. Mom's face answered my unasked question.
"Anything? Anything at all?" My voice quivered. The dogs whined.
"I'm sorry. Nobody knows what's happened. They have no record of the plane landing. Not anywhere."
I fell back onto the couch with a huff.
The phone rang for the forty gazillionth time and Mom walked back into the kitchen.
God? Let them be okay.
"Hello?" Mom's voice drifted out to the living room. "Yes." There was a pause. "What happened?"
I jumped up.
Did they find Andie? Or is this another emergency? What else could go wrong?
"Yes, we're on our way. . . Thank you."
I ran into the kitchen. "Who was it?"
Mom turned to me with tears sliding down her face. "Go pack a bag and then get Sasha and Dasha. We've got more than an eight-hour drive ahead of us." She put the phone on the charger and turned her back to me.
"We're going to Providence Hospital."
LEAPER
April 11
Fairbanks, Alaska
11:01 p.m.
"Sir?"
Leaper jerked his head to the doorway. Shadow had a knack for sneaking up on him. "What is it?"
"We have a problem."
"What
kind
of a problem?"
"A radio transmission was intercepted in the Alaska Range between climbers and the Talkeetna rangers. About a rescue."
Leaper felt the blood drain from his face.
"A party of three. Stranded for a week." Shadow's face was a stiff mask.
He shoved the chair back as his fist slammed against his desk. They just had to survive, didn't they? "Are they on their way?"
"Yes, sir. The transmissions started over FRS, that's why we didn't hear it first."
He cursed under his breath.
"Sir—" His best operative faltered, seeming to search for the right words. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Leaper ignored the question. "Have you informed Viper?"
"No, sir."
"I'll need to call him immediately." He wheeled his chair closer to the phone and picked it up.
"Sir." Shadow leaned his thick arms onto the desk in front of him. "You told me they were taken care of. How can they be alive?"
"What's done is done."
"Sir! When you were in the hospital, I was the one who reported to Viper, and now you're telling me you knew they were alive?" Shadow ripped the phone from his hands.
Deep breath. Stay calm. Through clenched teeth he ordered, "Sit down, Shadow."
Rage filled the man's eyes, but he sat. They both knew the consequences of this mistake.
"I will inform Viper. And
I
will take the blame."
Shadow narrowed his eyes and nodded.
"And we'll have to change strategies to get AMI. I'm sure the press will be all over the place."
JENNA
April 12
Providence Hospital
Anchorage, Alaska
6:29 a.m.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The monotonous sound greeted her as she opened her eyes to the shadowy room.
Where was she? Looking down at her hand, she noticed the needle and tubes attached to her arm. The muscles in her back and neck growled at her in protest as she glanced around at her surroundings. Machines, plain walls, a TV hanging from the ceiling.
A hospital.
She let out a deep sigh of relief. They'd been rescued.
Jenna tried to reach a hand up to her head, but the effort proved too great. Concrete would be easier to lift. At least it felt that way.
She blinked rapidly to bring the rest of the room into focus. Man, she was groggy. How long had she been out? Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and the constant hum in her ears seemed locked in by cotton balls shoved deep into the canals.
To her right, she saw Andie asleep, curled up in the bed next to her. Her heart clenched at the beautiful sight. She didn't know what she would've done if—
Thank You, God. Thank You for taking care of her and getting us off that mountain.
The room held a bit of a chill. She'd have to thank the doctor or the hospital personnel later for watching out for her little girl. Hospitals were a warm nightmare for a child who couldn't sweat. The hospital maintenance in Philadelphia had worked round the clock to keep Andie's ICU room the correct temp after her brain surgery. Most patients in the ICU needed warmth to recover. Not Andie.
Looking to her left, she spotted Cole asleep in a chair. His head lay back on top of the chair and his long legs stretched out in front of him. Poor guy. That couldn't be comfortable.
Jenna took a moment to drink in his features. His hair appeared darker in the dim light, a week's worth of whiskers covering his jawline and chin. Even in sleep, the man exuded strength and confidence. Just like Marc.
But that's where the similarities ended. Marc had been a solid man, of average height, with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes. Andie inherited those eyes. Jenna smiled at the thought. Andie—her baby—so full of life and spunk and curiosity. She couldn't resist another peek at her amazing daughter. What a gift. No one could compare with her spirit—that unbridled joy that seemed to ooze out of every pore.
She turned her gaze back to Cole. Another solid, strong man, but a good deal taller than Marc. He towered over her five-foot-three frame. His light brown hair reminded her of a little boy's—always tousled. Thoughts of him in such a peaceful state brought a flutter to her stomach.
But then he shifted in his sleep and scratched his arm. The faint edge of the tattoo showed beneath his rolled-up sleeve.
Her mind dove into the place her heart didn't want it to go. What did he know about Marc? And why were she and Andie in danger? Why would Marc trust a man like Hank? And why would Hank betray her husband?
Jenna lifted her gaze to the ceiling.
Lord, why is this happening? And why do I feel . . . things for Cole?
Oh, why couldn't life be simple?
The beeping of the monitor sped up.
Cole stretched and stood over her. "Jenna?"
"Hi." His presence did funny things to her insides. "I'm awake."
"I can see that. You okay? Your heart rate jumped."
Good thing it was night. The heat of a blush raced up her neck. "Just thinking."
"Yeah? About what?"
"Well, about this crazy mess we're in. About Andie. And . . ." she paused and got lost in his intense gaze. "Well . . . about you."
He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. His smile diminished as he looked away. "I don't think I'm worthy of your thoughts, Jenna."
"Cole, that's ridiculous." She tugged at his hand, but he wouldn't budge.
"No, it's not." He lifted her hand to his lips and then laid it back down, releasing it.
Jenna watched him pace the small area at the front of the room. He had something on his mind. Was he waiting for her to give him the green light?
He ran both hands through his hair, and turned back to her. "We've been through a lot in a few days. I just don't want you to regret anything."
"What are you so afraid of?"
Her words hit their mark. Standing stiff at the end of her bed, he didn't move for several minutes.
"Well?"
"Everything." He rested his arms on the end of the bed and looked down. "Of caring. And then losing everything. All over again."
His honesty and apparent grief shook her to the core. "Cole—"
"Jenna. Don't."
"Cole, please. Don't shut me out. Not now." Tears sprang to her eyes. There were days she really hated being female. This was one of them. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she intended to manipulate him with her emotions.
He walked back around to her and placed a hand on each side of her shoulders on the bed, pinning her with his gaze.
For several long seconds, their eyes locked. If only she could convey everything in her heart through her eyes. She had opened her heart to him. She trusted him.
But who was this man? And how did he hold such power over her?
He leaned closer and hesitated, just above her nose. "Jenna, I . . ." Clamping his mouth shut, he looked down, leaning his forehead against hers.
"You what?"
Pulling back a few inches, Cole lifted a hand to her face. As his thumb trailed down her cheek, Jenna saw the depth of emotion in his eyes. For one brief moment, all the walls were gone. All the hesitation. All the doubt.
"I think you're amazing." He closed the space between them.
With a gentle brush of his lips against hers, electricity shot through Jenna's body.
He slid his hand to the top of her head, swept the hair away, then kissed her on the forehead.
Before she could open her eyes, he stood and walked away.
"But I can't handle this now." The firm set to his jaw was back. "Jenna, we really don't have a lot of time. The media has already picked up the story and aired the first details."
How dare he change gears like that! Her heart pounded, the machine echoing the sound for everyone to hear. Infuriating man. "And?" She didn't mean for her tone to be so clipped, but he deserved it.
"I'm concerned about you and Andie." His arms crossed over his broad chest, muscles rippling. It was totally distracting.
Whatever. Two could play at this game. She jerked her head back up to meet his gaze. "Cole, I'm thankful you were there, and I'm glad you're here now. But I think we need to cut to the chase."
"Cut to the chase?" He walked toward her, anger shooting out of his eyes, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "This isn't a game, Jenna. It's real. And I know those guys. They can't afford for you to be alive."
Her hands fidgeted with the thin hospital blanket. She searched his eyes. Something powerful lurked behind his anger. Something that begged her soul to move closer, grab on, and never let go.
Cole knew more than he'd let on. That much was clear. And if she wasn't mistaken . . .
It scared him.
Narrowing her eyes, she steeled her heart, and plunged ahead. "Okay then. Why don't you just tell me, Cole."
He narrowed his eyes. "Tell you what?"
"What you've been keeping from me about my husband."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
COLE
April 12
Providence Hospital
Anchorage, Alaska
6:49 a.m.
It had come. The moment of truth. How had he let it come this far?
He shook his head. A twelve-year-old inspiring, inquisitive interrogator. That's how.
Andie's thirst for life, her overwhelming joy despite her hardships, her love and admiration and . . . her trust opened his heart. One little girl had demolished every barrier he'd erected.