THE CRASH BEFORE CHRISTMAS
by KAY STOCKHAM
THE CRASH BEFORE CHRISTMAS by Kay Stockham
Smashwords Edition. Electronic edition published by Kindred Spirits Publishing, December 2011. Copyright 2011 by Dorma Kay Stockham.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction, in whole or in part in any form. This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For more information about Kay Stockham, please visit her website at http://www.kaystockham.com.
@KayStockham (Twitter)
Kay Stockham Fan Page (Facebook)
Smashwords Edition.
Electronic edition published by Kindred Spirits Publishing, December 2011.
Copyright © 2011 by Dorma Kay Stockham.
Cover art © Subbotina | Dreamstime.com
DEDICATION
The Crash Before Christmas began as a creative exercise, a blank page meant to help me find the sparkle again after arduous deadlines, working vacations and a long stretch of time with too few days off.
This book is dedicated to all the writers and artists and creative people out there. Remember all work and no play...
CHAPTER 1
"Mayday, mayday. Anchorage Tower, this is McGarretty, do you copy?"
The Cessna's engine sputtered again, earning a mutter from Ty as he piloted the small plane through the cloud bank obscuring his view of the Brooks Mountain Range. He was surrounded by a world of white--white clouds, white snow, unable to see anything other than the rapidly fading daylight.
Static crackled in his headphones but the tower didn't respond. He battled the wind gusts blowing in from the Arctic, his gut a tight, hard knot. Midair was not where he wanted to be in weather like this. "Mayday, mayday, Anchorage Tower, do you copy?"
Despite triple checking the forecast in order to take advantage of the hour and thirty-five minutes of Alaskan daylight, a snow storm had appeared out of nowhere, blown in from the Chukchi Sea. Now he found himself off course somewhere along the rugged mountain range, struggling to keep the only thing between him and the ground in the air. "Come on, Nessie. Thatta-girl."
A sharp gust left him swearing as Nessie took another stomach-churning nosedive with the current.
Blood pumped hard and fast in his ears, the loud, rushing pulses strangely in tune with the wind tossing him about like a trailer in a twister.
Ty's insides twisted into a stopper knot when the clouds parted, revealing a bowl-shaped mountain he recognized from his maps. He was so far off course no one would look for him here.
Nessie lifted and dropped, the air sucked from beneath her wings. The bounce jarred Ty's teeth.
The Cessna's engine sputtered once more, pushed to the limits as it fought the force of the elements outside. In the end, the sudden quiet that came after the plane's last choking wheeze told Ty all he needed to know. "Achorage Tower, this is Ty McGarretty, do you read?"
His stomach lurched as the plane began to lose altitude. "Mayday, mayday! I'm going down. Repeat: I'm going down." He relayed his coordinates, not knowing if those systems were operating correctly or if anyone heard him.
Come on, is this really the way it ends? "Tower, if you can hear me... Ah, hell, can anybody hear me?"
Static filled his ears as adrenaline flooded his body.
Down, down, down. The raging winds of the snowstorm kept the plane aloft and prolonged the inevitable, rocking it from side to side like a sadistic tilt-a-whirl run by a drunken carnie.
His shoulders and arms ached as he fought to keep the nose up. Every nut and bolt rattling with the force of the descent.
Images rolled through his mind in rapid succession as he stared at the wall of white outside the window. Your life really did flash before your eyes in times like this. And even though he talked to himself there were things he had to say. "Gramps, I love you, old man. Make Logan watch some cartoons and get his nose out of a book. And Abbie--don't let her date until she's twenty-five and has a black belt. Gramps, just do the best you can. I'm sorry."
A sudden burst of static crackled from the radio and a woman's voice filled his headset.
"McGarretty? I can hear you."
Ty latched onto the sound of the woman's voice. "Get a message to my grandfather. George McGarretty in Anchorage."
"I-I will. I heard you."
Treetops. That's all he could make out in the blowing white mess below him, a quick glimpse when the plane swung hard to the left. Big, pointy treetops of massive pines that would rip Nessie apart before she ever hit the ground. Not a pleasant way to-- Was that a strip of white?
"You just flew over me! Keep your nose up. I'll be there as soon as I can," the woman said. "I'll find you."
His eyes burned from the strain of trying to make out the image but he zeroed in on the possibility, determination battling reality. "What's your name?"
Yeah, that was definitely white. One small, impossibly short strip of snow-covered valley floor. He'd made it to the interior of the mountain. God, please. I can't leave them. Gramps won't last much longer.
"Holly. My name is Holly."
The plane hit the snow, the bone-jarring impact followed by an ear-splitting noise as the wheels sank into the depths of the soft surface and were ripped off. The Cessna's belly acted like a big sled, plowing through the valley and gaining speed.
Ty bounced along, strapped in his seat unable to see anything but a rush of white until Nessie smacked into trees.
Pain hit, stole his breath, the sharp, copper taste of blood and bitter cold air choking him.
Time slowed as his body pitched forward and then back, jerking and yanking him like rag doll.
Dazed, he felt the Cessna list to one side before she settled with a jarring thunk of metal.
A whooshing rush rolled over him, too strong to fight. Shivering from the cold, he felt himself slipping away...
#
"What are you doing, Holly? Stay where you are. Holly? Answer me."
Holly ignored the voice on the other end of the portable radio and frantically raced to dress. Every second counted and considering she had to harness the dogs, she didn't have time to respond to Devon's order to respond.
"Don't even think about leaving your cave. The storm is getting worse. I'll handle it," Devon continued.
She stepped on the towel at the base of the hot springs pool where she had been relaxing when Ty McGarretty's distress call had sounded, twisting her feet in the cotton to dry them before snagging socks and hopping around on one foot while she yanked the wool over her feet.
"Holly, dammit, answer me. Do not leave the cave!"
"I don't take orders from you, Dev." Racing across the cave floor she grabbed the layers she had stripped off earlier, hands shaking as she forced herself to take the time to put them on even though the pilot's words echoed in her head.
The last thing she needed was to head out into the cold unprotected and wind up freezing as a result. Underwear, tank top, thermals, two pairs of fleece-lined leggings, a sweatshirt, her snowsuit.
She dropped into the recliner behind her to stab both legs into the pants of the suit at the same time, battling the voice in her head that warned against hoping she might find Ty McGarretty alive.
But whoever he was, she couldn't just sit there and listen, wait, and do nothing.
"Holly, I know you hear me. Stay put."
"Bite me." One boot was near the recliner, the other--where the heck was the other? "Come on. Where are you?"
A man's life was at stake. If the pilot was alive, his odds were diminishing with every second that passed. And he had a family. Kids. Young kids from the sound of it. And only a grandfather to watch over them?
She dropped to her knees and looked beneath the coffee table. "You've got to stay more organized, Holl."
She'd been so ready to escape to her cave for a while she'd stripped as she'd entered the cavern, tossing her clothes with every step.
But there it was. From her position on all fours she spied the boot by the bed. How did it get all the way over there?
She scrambled up, carrying the first boot in her hand.
"Dammit, answer me!"
Holly groaned as she positioned the boots to shove her feet inside, reaching blindly with her free hand to find the radio she'd dropped onto the bed after responding to Ty McGarretty. "I'm closer. I'm going, Devon."
"I'm putting together a team. You are to stay put."
"I'm not going to argue with you. I'm going. Holly, out."
"Dammit, Holly, will you let me do my jo--"
She twisted the knob on the radio, muting Devon's voice. As head of security for their off-the-grid compound Devon took his job very seriously, as he should. But sometimes... What was it with men and their egos? Seriously.
Boots tied, she raced across the cave floor and up into the outer chamber where her sled dogs waited, away from the heat of the pool but protected from the harshness of the weather. "No rest for you guys," she called, ignoring their sharp barks as she gathered up harnesses and rigging and set about preparing them.
Thankfully her team was well-behaved and the dogs knew the drill, pacing around her and barking as they waited their turn to be harnessed, eager to see where they were going and no doubt picking up on her emotions about the need to rush.
Finally she stepped on the runners and forced herself to inhale a steadying breath. "Easy," she commanded, the order for the team to go slow until they left the cave.
She hated the time it took for her to fasten the gate over the opening of her sanctuary but it had to be done to keep unwanted animals from getting inside.
But then..."Hike! Moxie, hike!"
The command to 'mush' had Moxie and all the other dogs digging in and they were on their way, flying down the mountain.
The trail to the valley was winding but well-known by the dogs. Once they made it to the valley floor, she turned them loose, letting them run full-out toward the far end, careful to stick to the edge of the forest so that she didn't inadvertently pass the wreckage.
The plane wasn't on fire. She tried to take comfort in that as she searched the darkness for signs of the crash. When they passed a wheel Holly knew they were getting close.
Then she saw it and her heart stopped in her chest. The small plane was nose-first into the trees at the rim of the valley.
How could anyone survive that?
She set the snow hook, even going so far as to tie the snug line at the back of the sled to the closest tree to keep the dogs from getting spooked and taking off on her. If they did neither she nor the pilot stood a chance.
Holly scrambled around the tail of the plane and tried to prepare herself for what she might find inside.
Please don't be dead.
#
"Hey! Hello? Mr. McGarretty? McGarretty, can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes. Open your eyes!"
Ty hated the annoying voice pulling him from a warm, deep sleep.
"Ty McGarretty, open your eyes."
He heard a groan, vaguely recognizing it as his own. Waking up a bit more, he realized he wasn't as warm as he thought. Where the hell was that draft coming from?
"Oh, thank God. That's it," the woman continued. "No, don't close your eyes!"
Ty turned his head away from the voice deafening his right ear, a wave of nausea washing over him. Ah, man. What had old man Arnold fed him before take off, a plate of food poisoning?
"Listen to me. Are you listening? I can't get you out of here on my own and we can't wait for help or we'll freeze to death. Wake up before we both turn into icicles."
The woman's desperate tone, her fear, cracked through the heavy fog holding him submersed.
Ty jerked his head up, groaning again because of the pain skittering through his brain as a result. Where was he? "What happened?" His eyes burned and were coated with something sticky.
"Here. Let me."
The woman wiped something over his face and removed some of the stickiness. "Ah, damn." Piercing pain jabbed into his brain because of the bright light shining into his eyes.
"Sorry. I'll move it."
It took some time for the pain to fade and his gaze to adjust but the sharp smell of fuel cleared more of the fog.
Fuel. They had to get out of there.
He rolled his head on the seat and stared at the face hovering in front of his. "We have to get out of here."
"That's right. But you have to help me."
Help her. Was she hurt?
He narrowed his gaze on the woman speaking to him and the shadow she cast became clearer. Mouth. Nose. Wide eyes. Beautiful, beautiful face. A dark stain on the scarf hanging from her neck. "You're hurt."
"What? No. No, I'm fine. I used it to wipe the blood off your face. I'm okay. You're the one who's hurt."
"Good." He didn't like it when others were hurt, especially women.
"Keep those eyes open, McGarretty."
The cold seeped into his skin and made him shiver. "You sound like...my CO."
"Ahhh, military, huh?"
"Yeah--or, I was." Why was everything so confusing? Damn, his head hurt.
He shifted in the seat and grimaced. His muscles were cramping, locking up from the cold. What were they doing out here?
"You can tell me all about it as soon as we get you out of here."
Ty nodded his understanding, bits and pieces coming back to him. Flying. The snowstorm. He'd crashed.
"Can you breathe okay? Anything broken?"
"No. I don't think so." He lifted his hand to his head and she gently turned his face toward hers.
"Oh, that cut is still bleeding like crazy. Here, maybe this will help."
She took off her scarf and wrapped it around his head several times, fitting his knit cap over it to hold it in place once she was done.
"That will have to do for now. The wind's blowing so hard I'm afraid we might flip. Can you move your legs? Knees and toes and everything in between? Ribs okay?"
Her questions flew at him faster than he could process them with his scrambled brain but he got the gist. He shifted again, moving one foot into the small area where she stood hunched over him. So far so good.
But then he tried to move his left foot and couldn't.
"What's wrong?"
Something held him trapped. Ahhh, poor Nessie. "Help me up."
His rescuer unbuckled the straps holding him in place and retreated in the cramped confines so that she could wrap her arms around him from behind. Ty tried to exit the seat but he couldn't move. His left foot was pinned. A few gentle yanks didn't budge it but every pull sent pain streaking up his leg.
"Stop," she ordered. "Are you hurting yourself?"
His throbbing brain bounced off the inside of his skull and his arms shook with the effort it took to hold himself upright on one foot while trying to free the other in the unstable plane. "Get out of here. I'm coming."
Her hands tightened against his stomach. "I'm not leaving you. Let me help."
The woman moved so that she balanced over the pilot seat, the headrest shoved into her stomach, her hands extended to help free his trapped leg.
Ty twisted, pulled, swore at the pain, and finally managed to get his foot unstuck from beneath the collapsed control panel.
"Is it broken?" she asked, back on her feet.
He put his weight on his foot. Another surge of nausea bubbled into his throat when pain ripped up his calf toward his knee. Dazed as he was, Ty managed a thankful prayer because his foot was still attached to his leg. "We'll find out later."
He straightened as much as he could inside the damaged hull of the Cessna, sliding an arm around the woman's shoulders at her urging.
"Don't pass out on me," she ordered, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. "I can't carry you and with that bump on your head you have to stay awake. Get used to me asking you if you're awake. Got it?"
"Yeah. I hear you." Even as he said the words his lashes felt weighted, his eyes burning with blood. "I can't see."
"Just hold onto me--and this. Don't drop it."
She pressed the flashlight into the hand he had wrapped around her shoulders and he gripped them both like lifelines.
The woman helped him to a hole ripped out of Nessie's side, and after easing him to the floor Ty held the flashlight while she exited the plane.
"Come on. Lean on me."
The wind blew them against Nessie's body once they made it out but the plane also acted as a barrier to keep them upright.
Every step he took blasted black and red spots in front of his eyes. The pain forced him to dig deep into a place he didn't know existed to keep moving when all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep.
It wasn't until they reached Nessie's tail that he was able to hear impatient barking and blinked his eyes clear enough to see the long outline of the sled team that awaited them. "Sled dogs?"
"Hey, don't knock it! They're a lot safer than flying in this!" Her quick response was followed by a husky laugh that was carried away by the wind.
"Where are the others?" The storm was growing stronger--or else he was growing weaker.
"It's just us," the woman said, her voice rough, panting from the effort of keeping them both upright.
Just her? She'd braved this alone?
The frigid temperature penetrated his clothing, shards of ice biting into his face as they left the protection of the Cessna and stumbled forward.
"Sit there," she ordered, helping him down onto the basket at the front of the sled.
Ty groaned his relief, grateful to be off his foot. His teeth chattered, and he could feel the sweat on his skin freezing, his entire body jerking and twitching uncontrollably.
So. Freaking. Cold.
"Ty That's your name, right?"
It was hard to speak when his teeth chattered enough to cut off his tongue. "Yeah."
His rescuer dropped blankets over him. "We've got a lot of ground to cover and we have to do it fast. I know it's going to be hard to stay awake once you get warm but you have to fight it. Don't go to sleep."
"Yeah, okay." He couldn't hear himself say the words and he doubted she heard them, either.
Think of Gramps. Beth's kids. You can't leave them alone in this crazy world.
"Don't leave me, McGarretty. I don't want to get to where we're going only to find you dead."
Beneath the blanket he forced his lashes up, his eyes open, able to see the swirling snow thanks to the lantern above him. It was like being inside a snow globe.
"Holly to base. He's alive! I have him," she yelled. "I'm bringing him in."
Ty heard a man's voice but couldn't make out the words.
"No, it's too far! He's injured and the storm is getting worse!" she said before, "Then get ready! Holly, out. Moxie! Moxie, hike!"
#
Holly stared out at the thickening snow and reminded herself she had no choice. The snowstorm was becoming blizzard-like in its intensity, the temperature and conditions only getting worse.
Screw rules. This was life and death. Not only Ty's but potentially her life and those of the dogs. An exception could be made under such extreme conditions.
Outsiders were banned from the compound. No exceptions.
Until now.
She knew the time was coming when her father--and the rest of the compound and their organization--expected her to fill his position as organization leader, protector, village elder and mentor.
This was her first step in that direction. In a situation like this, life took precedence over the risk. Ty needed more medical attention than she could capably dispense. The only thing to do was take him home to the compound.
She shifted her weight on the runners, dreading the confrontation she faced. Everyone inside her off-the-grid home would know she had broken their most sacred rule. The alarm would have sounded, placing the village on lockdown so there was as little movement as possible, and Devon and his men would be waiting.
She would answer for her actions. Be held accountable. Not to Devon--she refused to answer to him--but to her father and the Elder Council.
But why should the pilot suffer needlessly when the compound's doctor was a sled-ride away? What rule was worth risking a man's life?
And when Ty McGarretty is better? Alert?
Then... Then they would deal with him but at least he would be alive. Devon's demand for her to allow him to take the pilot on to the next closest village was too dangerous. Not only for Ty McGarretty but for Devon and the guards responsible for transporting the pilot over the mountains in the middle of this.
Having reached the end of the valley where the trail to the compound began, she urged the dogs into the forest, up the path that wound through the mountains.
The dogs were eager, and despite the blinding snow and wind they made good time, though it seemed to take hours because she was so aware of the pilot's injuries.
Moxie led the team into the final turn approaching the village and Holly leaned into the curve, her eyes bleary and body heavy from the long day and the fading adrenaline rush of the rescue.
The temperature dropped by several more degrees and bitter gusts were so bone-chilling she wished for another layer.
The dogs pulled them higher, deeper into the concealing forest, midway up the mountain.
She glanced down, the lanterns attached to the sled allowing her to see the top of Ty's knit hat despite the mound of blankets she had placed over him. His face was covered, and the whiteout conditions forming around them kept her from having to take the false trails and add to their time.
Twenty minutes later Holly approached the compound's east entry and found Devon waiting along with some of his men outside of the guardhouse.
She could see the anger in Devon's expression and her heart picked up speed. "Whoa," she called to the dogs, commanding them to stop.
She could feel multiple sets of eyes on her, peering out from within the compound's buildings and the many small cottages dotting the woods around them. The trees protected them from the worst of the wind but the air around them was filled with the popping and cracking sounds of branches breaking.
"Take him to the infirmary," she said to the guards. "Is Jamie waiting?" she asked Devon.
"Yes."
The word was growled, low and bordering on a hiss. Holly lifted her chin and turned to the guard stepping onto the sled's runners. "I'll be there soon to take the dogs home."
"Yes, ma'am."
The guard got the sled moving, and despite the cold and the snow chilling her to the bone, Holly waited, determined to stand toe to toe with Devon rather than show weakness.
Finally he bit out a word under his breath and opened the door of the building. Best to just get it over with, she mused.
"What have you done?" Devon asked once they had stepped inside.
Devon's office was by the exit and Holly walked toward it without hesitation, hearing the exterior door opening again to admit several of Devon's men.
"I've saved a man's life. And probably yours," she said, moving directly to the old-fashioned heating stove. "What's the latest weather report?"
Devon shut his office door. "A blizzard advisory has been issued."
So she was right. Spend as much time in the forrest as she did and a person learned to read certain things. Not that Devon apparently appreciated the fact. "The pilot has a concussion, and his foot may be broken."
Devon closed the distance remaining between them. She was tall at five-feet-eight but Devon was taller and she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.
"You should have let us take care of him."
"I was closer," she countered. "He could have frozen to death before you got to him."
"You are our future. You should not be risking yourself. And bringing him here?"
"He is in no condition to travel. How could letting him remain exposed to the weather and untreated until you showed up, and then hauling him over mountains, be anything but cruel?"
Staring up into her friend's handsome face she could see the way Devon's brown eyes had turned molten-gold with his upset.
She waited impatiently, refusing to give in and voice regret she didn't feel, simply because she knew it's what he wanted. Not gonna happen."Why are you really upset, Devon? Because I disobeyed the rules...or you?"
"Don't change the subject. I'm merely trying to do my job."
"And I'm trying to do mine--which is set an example as the future leader of this community."
"And you think you did that tonight?"
"Yes! I showed compassion. I proved that I would not allow someone to suffer needlessly when I could do something about it."
"Even though you have risked us all because of your inability to follow the rules?"
Holly fisted her gloved hands and forced her shoulders to lower from her ears. The scent of wood smoke and baked goods teased her senses and made her stomach growl, her body aching for heat and food and the comfort of her bed. But Devon had to be handled first. "He's barely conscious and saw nothing of the trails. You couldn't see more than a few feet in front of you out there. It will be fine."
Devon didn't appear convinced despite her reassurance.
"Holly, your father left the security and safety of this village and everyone in it to me. That includes you. When I told you to stay put--"
"I do not take orders from you." She stated it softly but there was no denying the strength of her tone, the purpose. She would not bow down. If Devon liked her? Wanted her? If in time they had a future together? He had to accept her for who she was.
He ran a hand over his head, yanking off his cap in visible frustration.
"You had no idea what you were getting yourself involved in. You had no idea what he was carrying, if the plane might explode. If he was dangerous!"
"It didn't. He wasn't. And when someone's life is at stake, are those really the things to ask first?"
"You could have been injured getting him out of the wreckage. What would you have done then?"
Now he had her. Because with that question he revealed a wealth of emotion on his face and seeing it made her feel guilty that she'd worried him. Devon had been her friend since childhood and if anyone had a clue of the pressures she faced, it was him. "I would have dealt with the problem. The same way you would have dealt with it."
"I would have had others there to help me."
And she had been entirely alone. She thought of the way the plane had rocked in the wind, unsteady, ready to flip. "I can't say it won't happen again," she said as a concession, "but I'll remember that next time."
A rough huff of a laugh rumbled out of his chest and he shook his head at her.
"Look, Dev, I hear what you're saying but you can't argue about things that didn't happen. I understand your concern but I am here now, see?"
"Concer--" Devon broke off, the curse that followed muffled by the gloved hand he ran over his mouth.
He yanked the gloves off and tossed them onto his desk, scattering papers in the process.
"Holly, what I feel for you is more than concern. When are you going to see that?"
She saw it now. She heard it in his voice, felt it in the tension he carried. And she cared for him, too. Growing up they had been friends, good friends. But things had changed since she had taken on more responsibility from her father, and Devon had rose amongst the ranks of the guards.
Maybe, if things were different, and she didn't feel like Devon wanted to control her, she might feel more for him. But she had so much ahead of her, so much to learn, that she couldn't add the pressure of dealing with Devon to it. "I was fine."
"I don't like it when you're out there alone. Especially when I think you're safe and then you go sledding into a blizzard."
"It was just a little snow," she said, managing the words with a smile.
Devon settled his hips against the edge of his desk and stared at her.
"Invite me to come with you next time. You know I would welcome the invitation--and keep you safe."
Devon had offered to accompany her before and while she had considered it a time or two, she had also found herself making excuses and putting him off. Of all the men in her village Devon was...the best. The most handsome, the most commanding, the most interesting to her. But still... "It's my private place," she said, recognizing disappointment in Devon's gaze before he disguised it. "One I'm not ready to share yet." Not with Devon, not with anyone.
Devon stood and moved to sit in his desk chair. The position of authority?
"Anna is worried. Go home and put her mind to rest."
"I will--after I check in at the infirmary," she said, taking the opportunity to leave.
"Holly."
She barely managed to restrain a laugh at his flummoxed expression and moved toward the door. "Goodbye, Dev."
"Keep it up and your father will return early, just because you've gotten on his bad side," Devon called after her, his tone grumbling.
If she kept this up, being on her father's naughty list would be the least of her worries.
CHAPTER 2
Ty opened one eye and debated the effort required to open the second. His head throbbed, his brain pulsing with every thud-thud-thud of his heart.
He shut his eye against the bright white lights of the room and tried to remember how he'd gone from... Where had he come from?
Assorted memories appeared in slow bits. The snowstorm. The crash. A woman. Dogs? After that things got fuzzy again.
He forced his lashes up a second time, blinked against the pin-pricks of harsh light and groaned. Yeah, definitely not worth the effort.
"Hey. Noooo, don't go back to sleep. Come on, wake up. You're starting to worry us."
Something cool and moist touched his forehead, a welcome relief to the throbbing.
"Head still hurt?" a woman whispered.
"Sledgehammer," he muttered, ungluing his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Her voice sounded familiar but he couldn't remember her name. And God knew he would never forget her face. She was beautiful. "Who are you again?"
"You don't remember?"
He thought of her hovering over him in the wreckage. "I'd call you Angel."
Low, throaty laughter filled his ears and brought a weak smile to his lips. He might not remember her name but he remembered that laugh.
"After everything you've been through, I'm not surprised you don't remember. My name is Holly."
Holly. The voice on the radio. Yeah, he remembered that. "How long was I out?"
"Two days."
There were machines in the room, an IV in his left arm and a cuff around his upper right arm ready to take his blood pressure. A heart monitor beeped somewhere behind him on the right. "Where am I?"
"The infirmary."
An infirmary? "Where?"
"It's, um-- I brought you here on my sled."
How off course was he? Most of the villages or outposts had first-aid kits, maybe a nurse or EMT. Definitely not the equipment he was currently attached to in one form or another.
"I'm happy to see you're finally awake," she said, smiling down at him from beside the bed. "We were worried."
"I've been out for days?"
"Yeah. We got here just in time. The snowstorm turned into a blizzard right as we arrived. We're back to a severe snowstorm advisory that's sticking around. Things are really nasty out there."
He shifted in the hospital bed and bit back a groan. There wasn't a single bone or muscle in his body that didn't feel like it had been shredded and glued back together by a kindergartener.
"Easy. You don't remember anything?"
His body felt weighted, his mouth dry. "No. Just the crash, and then you. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I'm glad I was able to help."
He was, too. But now he needed to get home. "I've got to get out of here," he said, grabbing the cuff on his arm to remove it.
"What? No. You just woke up."
"I have to get back to Anchorage."
"You're not ready to go anywhere, Mr. McGarretty, not yet."
His head swirled so badly he fell back against the bed. She was right about that. One wrong move and he'd be kissing the floor.
Holly took his hand in hers to pull it away from the cuff and he got the brief impression of strength and softness in the touch.
"See? Stay put."
He would. Had to. For now. "What day is it?"
"It's Wednesday morning, almost lunch time, not that you can tell from looking outside. You slept through the last day with sunlight in this part of Alaska. We're officially twenty-four hours of darkness. And in case you missed what I said earlier? It hasn't stopped snowing since we arrived."
Not what he needed to hear. "My grandfather has the kids. He can handle a few hours with them but not days. He's not up to that." Gramps was seventy and not in peak physical condition.
"You have children?"
He rubbed his hand back and forth across his forehead hoping to ease the throbbing. "My niece and nephew. I have custody. My sister's deceased." He still couldn't believe it, either. There was something greatly wrong with a world that took a mother from her young children. The kids would have been so much better off with Beth. What he and Gramps knew about raising kids could fit inside a thimble.
Holly's expression softened at his words. "I see. Well, I'm sure they will be very happy to see you when you get home but you're not up for the trip just yet, trust me. The good news is that you're awake, and your foot isn't broken but severely bruised and sprained. Jamie--the doctor--said if you take it easy you'll be good to go in no time. Maybe by the time the weather front passes through, we can get you out of here."
He shifted in the hospital bed again, only then realizing his injured foot was propped up by several stacked pillows. He spied the button to raise himself up and pressed it.
"Oh, I'm not sure you should--"
"I want to sit up." Splitting headache or not, a man had no pride lying flat on his back in a hospital bed. He needed to shake off the grogginess and come up with a plan.
Holly waited patiently by the bed while it slowly raised his head and shoulders. Once he was where he wanted to be, she placed an extra pillow behind him.
Man, she smelled good. Like crisp winter air and vanilla and something spicy and sweet, like cinnamon.
"Better?"
"Yes," he said, wondering how anyone could be as physically tough as Holly had to be as a musher, and yet so beautiful. Her long blond hair hung loose over her shoulders and when she turned away to cross the room he saw that she wore a thick sweater over leggings and shaggy, fur-like boots that were more stylish and feminine than he remembered seeing in this part of Alaska.
The soft, fuzzy-looking sweater also stretched across her backside and stopped short at mid-thigh, drawing his eyes to Holly's behind and long legs. He might feel like death warmed over but he wasn't dead yet and his beautiful rescuer possessed everything it needed to bring him back to the land of the living--just not today.
"I feel partially to blame for your condition. Not the crash, of course, but because you were exposed in the cockpit until I was able to reach you."
She handed him a cup of water. Ty drank greedily, the cold easing a little more of the pain. "I'm grateful you found me at all. I wouldn't be here without you." Holly could have been hurt coming after him like she had and grateful or not that she'd saved him, he didn't like the awareness that she'd risked herself.
A brief hint of a smile curled her lips up at the corners, softening the fullness even more.
"So, ah, are you hungry? You've been stirring quite a bit so I had Alicia bring some soup and fresh rolls. Feel up to eating?"
He inhaled and got another whiff of her perfume along with something that made his mouth water. "Yeah, now that you mention it. Smells good."
Holly retrieved a tray and set it on the adjustable table across his bed, lifting the cover and arranging things just so.
When she finished he grabbed the spoon and dug in, knowing he looked a bit sluggish because he felt that way.
She watched him at first, then opened a container of apple juice before she turned and paced the room. "Something wrong?" he asked.
The soup was more broth than anything but there were little bits of meat and vegetables mixed in. Heaven in a bowl. Now that he was sitting upright and sipping on the hot soup, the ache in his head was lessening to a dull pounding.
"No. No, not at all. I'm just so relieved you're awake and feeling better. You shouldn't overdo it, though. In fact, I should go and let you eat. The doctor will be in soon to check you and--"
"Wait." He felt like crap but no man in his right mind would send someone like Holly away. "Stay a few more minutes. Please."
Holly tucked her hair behind one ear, the move sexy because it was so innocent.
"Ty, you need to rest, and I have to get back to work."
"What do you do when you're not hanging out in the infirmary?" he asked, hoping the question would get her to stick around and give him a few more answers.
He tore off the top of the roll and dipped it into the broth. Man, that was good. He was so hungry he could eat a moose, and with every bite he woke up a bit more. As long as he didn't move his head too much or too fast, he was okay.
"I work for my father. I'm a bookkeeper and secretary, plant waterer. Whatever the day calls for."
He finished off the broth, wondering if he could get another bowl. "Where am I again?"
She gathered up her coat and a tote bag of a purse. "Ty, rest. As soon as you're up to it, I'll sled you out to get a supply flight, okay? For now all you need to do is eat, sleep and get well."
He settled down into his pillows, his body heavy and tired despite his determination not to be. "I have to call Gramps. Let him know I made it." He carefully turned his head and searched the room for a phone but when he didn't see one he glanced back at Holly in time to catch a flicker of something in her expression. The softness he'd seen seconds ago disappeared, replaced by a careful lift of her chin.
"I'm afraid we're old school. The infirmary doctor takes a holistic approach to healing. Quiet. Peace. Good food. No phones or outside distractions in the room like televisions or radios. So you truly rest," she added, nodding like not having a television was a good thing. "But don't worry, I found your contact information in your wallet and I was able to send a message to the email address you had listed. I said you're okay, and will be home as soon as possible."
Ty sighed his relief. Gramp loved tinkering with the computer and checked his email account pretty often during the day. No way would he miss the news. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome. So relax, okay? Now, I should--"
"I still want to talk to him myself, though. Do you have a cell phone I can use? A satellite phone?"
Holly shifted her weight from foot to foot, her coat and bag in front of her. "No. But you rest, and I'll see what I can do. We're remote, and getting word out can be tricky, especially when we're experiencing a snowstorm like the one outside. But I'll try to set something up as soon as I can, okay?"
It would have to be. He didn't like the thought of not talking to Gramps right away but so long as his grandfather knew the crash wasn't fatal... "Yeah, sounds good. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
He lifted what was left of the roll. "The food helped. I'll be on my feet in no time."
"That's good to hear," a man said, drawing their attention to the doorway.
The guy was tall, six-two or -three, and dressed in gray, black and white winter camo topped by a black thermal cap, a Glock at his side and black snow boots.
Wait-- Where the hell was he? A military base?
Ty zeroed in on the gun. A lot of Alaska's residents were armed given the fact they lived in bear-prone and isolated areas where animals--both human and the four-legged variety--were unpredictable. But this guy made Ty believe the man wasn't dressed for hunting. His choice of weapon for one. And the beard?
Neither were military. The gun because it wasn't standard issue, and the beard because they weren't allowed due to facial hair interfering with getting a good gas mask seal.
"Ty, this is Devon Sage. Devon is our village sheriff," Holly said, standing between his hospital bed and the man blocking the exit.
Ah, so that explained the uniform. And the Glock most police favored.
The man dipped his head in greeting, his expression dark. "Nice to hear you're making a quick recovery. Holly, I stopped by your office but you weren't there," Devon said, acting as though it was a regular occurrence. "Have you finished visiting the patient?"
Ty got the impression Devon aimed to make a point--that of Holly's presence being a charitable one and nothing else.
"As a matter of fact, I have," she said to Devon. "Ty, get some rest, okay? I'll be back to see you tomorrow."
"I look forward to it. Thanks for being here when I woke up." He held out his hand and waited until she retraced her steps and placed her warm palm in his. "That's something a man could get used to."
Giving him one last smile, Holly walked to the door where the sheriff waited.
As they left the room Ty pressed the button and lowered himself down to a more comfortable position, fatigue stealing over him.
There was nothing he could do in the shape he was in except sleep and heal and be ready to face the mess he'd find at the house once he made it back to Anchorage.
He closed his eyes and let his mind drift, picturing the Brooks Mountain Range in his head. He had studied every inch of those maps, memorizing towns and outposts, the terrain.
Why didn't he remember there being a village big enough to have an infirmary or a sheriff on the map for this area?
Better still, why he didn't remember seeing a village at all?
#
Devon didn't speak to Holly as they walked down the hall and out the doors of the infirmary but the moment they stepped outside, he took hold of her arm and tugged her into a two-seat alcove along the entry that shielded them from the wind and blowing snow.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
"What do you mean?" She stared up at Devon, still more than a bit unnerved by the glorious green of Ty's eyes.
"Don't give me that. You don't need to order him food or sit at his bedside. And you need to stop calling the infirmary to check on him because people are talking enough as it is."
Because she had broken the rules and brought Ty McGarretty into the compound. And shocking though it was, people were taking sides. The risk of her actions versus the humanity of them. "So I'm just supposed to dump him here and not care?"
"Care? Sure. But you seem to be a little too caring given the circumstances."