The Protector's Mission. Margaret Daley
knelt by Brutus and tried to see through the rubbish. He glimpsed some more blue and began removing bricks and wood, praying the person—maybe Lydia—was alive beneath them. Jesse knew that time was against the trapped people. If they were alive and injured, their wounds could eventually lead to their death if help didn’t get to them.
“I’m here,” he heard faintly from below. Or was he imagining a voice that sounded like Lydia’s?
“Lydia?” Jesse kept removing bricks.
“Yes. A beam is on me.” The familiar voice grew a little stronger.
“This is Jesse. We’re going to get you out.”
“I need air, and it’s getting dark.”
“Okay. Let me see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Jesse. I knew I could count on you.” The last part of the sentence ended with a racking cough.
“Lydia, are you all right?”
“O—kay. So cold.”
“You’ll be out in no time.” He worked as fast as he could. “Are you still all right?”
Nothing. His gut clenched.
“Get that air and camera over here,” he shouted while David and Thomas hurried with his request. “Lydia is alive.” He refused to acknowledge the possibility that she had died—just moments from being rescued.
He searched the debris until he found what he hoped was a hole that led to where Lydia was. He snatched the air tank and shoved the hose through the opening. Please, God, keep her alive. We’ve already lost too many. He said that over and over as he pushed the camera with a light down into another small crack. It was in moments like this that all he could do was believe the Lord was taking over.
Lydia blinked her eyes open. In the dim light, she saw the hose to the left of her. The air seemed fresher, although she still couldn’t breathe too deeply without a shooting pain knifing through her.
She went in and out of consciousness to the noise of people removing the building on top of her. The sound of voices fueled her hope. Memories of that time she’d gotten lost in a cave swamped her—the fear of the dark, of being alone. She shivered. Then she remembered when she’d first seen Jesse with a flashlight, coming to her rescue. She’d rushed into his arms and wouldn’t let him go until he’d pulled back, stared at her for a long moment and then kissed her for the first time.
What happened to that puppy love? She’d only been seventeen—Kate’s age—but she’d never felt so close to another as in that moment.
Her eyelids were so heavy, like the beam across her torso. She closed them again, trying to think of a warm place. Every part of her was cold, as though she’d been in a refrigerator for hours, dressed in her scrubs. She hadn’t even changed out of them when she’d gone to meet Bree. At least she wasn’t there with her.
But the others...what of them?
Again she began to drift off.
Hold on, Lydia.
Did someone say that? Jesse?
A rush of cool air brushed over her. She looked up and saw Jesse’s smiling face.
“She’s alive.” His grin grew. “Don’t move. We’ll get you out of there.”
“I know,” she whispered, her throat so dry she doubted Jesse could hear her.
When the rescuers finally reached her, all she could do was peer at Jesse as though she were back in the cave and he alone had come to save her. His almost-black hair was covered with a helmet. Dust and dirt coated him. He was more muscular and taller than when they’d been teenagers. When he and Thomas hoisted the beam from her, it seemed so easy for him while she couldn’t budge it an inch.
Jesse’s golden-brown gaze fastened on hers. Lines at the sides of his eyes deepened. “We’ve almost got you out, then Bree will check you before we move you. Do you want some water?” His voice held a tender note, as though he cared.
But she knew better. Since she’d returned to Anchorage they had spoken few words, only when necessary because of a search and rescue or Brutus, who she treated as the department veterinarian. “Yes” squeaked out of her mouth.
He couldn’t prop her up to drink until Bree said it was okay to move her, but he did squirt some cold water into her mouth.
Nothing tasted better. She swallowed. “Again.”
When Bree appeared next to her, she tried to hide the worry in her eyes, but Lydia knew Bree.
“I’m okay,” Lydia murmured, her voice stronger now. “Get me out of this hole, and I’ll be good as new in no time.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Bree ran her hands over Lydia, especially examining the wound on her head, then put a neck brace on her. “She’s okay to be lifted but be careful. Slow and easy. No jarring.”
“Honey, stop telling us our job. We’ve done this before,” David said from above, ready to take Lydia when Thomas and Jesse hoisted her up.
Jesse positioned himself at her head while Thomas was at her feet. “On the count of three.”
Bree stabilized her midsection as Lydia was brought up out of the hole.
Sunlight bathed Lydia. She was put on a stretcher and carried from the rubble. The last sight she saw was Jesse’s handsome face—but he wasn’t smiling. Worry knitted his forehead.
Lydia gave in to the black swirling abyss beckoning her.
* * *
Lydia heard an annoying beep. Pain quickly followed, radiating from her head and chest. She moaned and lifted her eyelids halfway. A hospital room greeted her, and she remembered why she was here and hurting. She’d been in and out of consciousness since an emergency surgery to have her spleen repaired.
She wondered where her sister and Bree went. Earlier they’d been in here. Probably to grab something to eat. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Kate while she was in the hospital. She’d stay with Bree and David until Lydia was released, which she hoped was soon.
Lydia closed her eyes and tried to relax. But the second she did, visions of the bombing assailed her mind. The sound of hideous laughter right before the bomb went off. The expression on Melinda’s face when she knew what was going to happen. Was she alive? The feeling of helplessness she experienced trapped under the building debris. Her heartbeat began to race. A cold clamminess blanketed her, much like when she’d been trapped.
The swish of her hospital room door opening pulled her away from the memories. Kate returning? She needed to have a few moments with her sister. When Lydia fastened her gaze on the person who entered, her pulse rate sped faster. Jesse Hunt. She wasn’t prepared to see him.
He looked like he’d come straight from the crime scene. As a search and rescue worker for Northern Frontier, he’d probably work as long as he could function. The only time he’d rest was when Brutus needed to.
So why is he here?
He stopped at the end of the bed. “Bree told me you’d been awake earlier and coherent after your surgery, so I took a chance and came to talk to you.”
His stiff stance and white-knuckled hands on the railing betrayed his nervousness, but his tone told her he was here in his professional capacity. Saddened by that thought, Lydia said, “Thank you for finding me.”
“I was doing my job yesterday.”
“Knowing the people who would be searching kept my hope alive. Have you found everyone?”
“We don’t know for sure. Names of missing