The Yuletide Rescue. Margaret Daley
clapped his gloved hand over her lips and hauled her back against his chest, moving deeper into the woods so the slope partially hid them, too. He leaned down and whispered, “Don’t say anything. This doesn’t look right.”
A faint spicy scent wafted to him and for a second riveted his attention. But then he caught sight of one of the men wrenching the pilot’s door open and yanking Jeremiah out of the cockpit, then passing him to the other guy on the ground. David stiffened. The way they tossed Jeremiah about wasn’t how a rescue team would treat a body.
Snow started falling from the dark clouds overhead, but not quickly enough to erase Aubrey’s and his footsteps from the incline behind the trees along the shore. He prayed the men focused on the wreck and nothing else. At least the one in the chopper holding the gun kept his gaze trained on what was going on down at the aircraft.
She wiggled in his embrace, her mumbles muffled by his glove. He dragged her even farther into the trees until he could only see the guy in the helicopter perched in its opening.
With instincts born from many years in a combat zone, David knew they’d left without being seen. Had the people in the chopper heard of the downed plane and decided to plunder it? Whatever their purpose for being here, it wasn’t a good one. At any moment they could spot the footprints heading away from the snow cave and come after them, especially if they decided to search the area. He prayed the men would see the urgency in fleeing the storm, which was predicted to be worse than the small one that had come through yesterday.
The farther away from the lake he hauled Aubrey Mathison, the harder she fought him. He was barely able to clutch one of her duffel bags. When they were far enough away from the unknown men, where they couldn’t hear Aubrey and him talking, he released her, but he was ready to stop her if she started back the way they’d come.
She yanked away and swung around, fury darkening her beautiful face. The last time he’d seen her at the rescue of a young child, it had been summer and her blond hair had been pulled back in a ponytail. He’d admired her then, and he did again now with fire shooting from her eyes.
“Did you see how they manhandled Jeremiah like he was a slab of meat?”
“Yes, and that’s why we aren’t throwing a welcoming party for them.” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice, although the wind would carry the sound of their voices away from the men by the lake. “We need to get to the plane and get out of here. Something isn’t right. I’ll tell the authorities what happened and let them sort it out.”
She peered down at the one duffel bag. “You left one back there? It had some of Jeremiah’s possessions that I—”
“Yes. I’m sorry about that, but I had more important things on my mind.” He hoped the chopper didn’t fly over that area and see the snow cave or the duffel bag.
The red in her cheeks from the cold deepened.
“I’ll make sure the people who come back later search for it and give it to you. Okay?” He swept his arm wide, indicating the direction she should go.
With a huff, she spun around and charged forward angrily. Whether at him or the two men, David couldn’t tell. Amid the snow still coming down, he quickly caught up to her and walked in the same path he’d used to come to the lake. It made his trek a little easier, and he noticed Aubrey did the same thing.
Other than the howl of the wind, silence reigned between them as they plowed through shin-deep snow. The effort slowed Aubrey’s pace.
“Is it much farther?” she finally asked, weariness weaving its way through her voice.
“Through those trees about a hundred yards. There’s a small clearing where I managed to land my plane.”
The sound of the helicopter lifting up above the lake propelled David into action. He grabbed her hand and half ran, half dragged Aubrey to the trees as the chopper appeared in the darkening sky. It headed toward Anchorage, in the opposite direction from them.
David held his breath, waiting to see if the helicopter’s flight pattern would continue southeast, away from where his plane was parked north of the lake. When it stayed its course, he hurried Aubrey along as quickly as possible. His revolver and her shotgun were no match for the heavily armed men. What concerned him the most was the increased velocity of the wind, the dropping temperature indicated on his watch and that they had probably half an hour of remaining daylight.
Aubrey stumbled and went down in the snow on the edge of the clearing where his Cessna was. He turned to her and lifted her up, snow all over her parka, face and head covering. Drawing her toward him, David brushed his gloved hand across her cheeks and forehead. The urgency of their situation heightened a connection with her. Any earlier anger was gone, replaced with worry on her face.
She attempted a smile that faded almost instantly. “Sorry. My legs feel like two pieces of lead.”
“I know.” He wished he could do more to reassure her they would be all right. At the moment he wasn’t sure. He held her for a few seconds while she regained her balance. “Okay?”
She nodded, and her gaze bound to his. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll make it to your plane.”
David grinned, determined to make it back to Anchorage with her. “Good. Make sure you follow exactly behind me.” He emerged first into the clearing and headed for his plane at the other end.
Halfway there, he glanced over his shoulder to check on Aubrey. Her resolve battled deepening lines of exhaustion. But she kept going, and his admiration of her rose with each step.
The falling snow increased. What light they had was dimming quickly.
“I’m going to hurry ahead and ready the plane for takeoff so when you arrive we can go,” David said, then quickened his pace.
David walked around the Cessna and checked what he needed, then climbed into the cockpit as Aubrey reached the plane. She hoisted herself into the passenger seat in front and shivered as she shut the door.
The storm clouds released even more snow as the minutes ticked away and he prepared for takeoff. After starting the engine, David threw her a look. “This may be a bumpy ride and a steep ascent, but we have enough room to make it over the trees.”
“I won’t be sorry to leave this place.” She laid her head against the seat and closed her eyes.
David took off and skated just above the treetops at the end of the clearing. He blew out a long breath, wishing he could relax. It was impossible with the wind battering the plane. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he flew toward Anchorage, ahead of the storm, he hoped.
Before radioing the airport in Anchorage, he slid a glance toward Aubrey. Her head slumped to the side; exhaustion must have taken over. Good. After what she’d gone through the past twenty-four hours, he didn’t want her to see his worry about this leg of their journey.
* * *
The line of trees on the shoreline rushed toward Bree as the plane slid across the ice-covered lake. She squeezed her eyes closed and braced for the impact, unable to do anything but pray.
A bump jolted Bree awake, and her eyes flew open. Darkness surrounded her, and for a few seconds, she didn’t know where she was. She sat up straight, her muscles locked into place, and blinked at the lit-up controls in front of her. She was safe. It had been a dream. A flashback, she corrected.
Then the plane hit another rough patch, bouncing her up and into the door.
“Sorry about that. The storm is on our tail, but we’re almost to Anchorage. We’ll be fine.”
David Stone’s deep voice, full of assurance, came to her, calming her racing heartbeat. She peered at him, his strong profile thrown into the shadows caused by the darkness and the illuminated control panel. She couldn’t forget his eyes—like slate-gray storm clouds—that had locked on her face when he’d removed his goggles at the snow cave. One look and she’d known she would