Seagull. You damn near had to toss rocks at him to get him to fly. That day, supposedly he had the flu. Third time in a month.”
His frustration, his pain, his anger were all understandable. She agreed, even understanding it must make looking at her, seeing her family, all the more difficult for him.
He eased back on the power to stay alongside of her as she fishtailed again. “Hell, I realize it would have still happened and the pain would have been hell for Seagull’s family, but it was his shift to pull, the duty he signed on for. He cashed the paychecks, accepted the benefits, and then left my mother out there to take his place. My mother out there”—his voice cracked—“and I’m over here.”
“You feel like you should have been the one to help her? Wade, you have to know you can’t be everywhere in the world.” What a heavy load to carry, the life of so many people on his shoulders.
“Saving people is what I do. Seems damn ironic I couldn’t help my own mom.” His breathing came through the headset heavier, emotional.
“Wade, I am so very sorry,” she said again, knowing it could never be enough.
Her grip tightened further, fighting against the whine and drag as she all but willed her machine around a boulder-size chunk of ice that narrowed the path to single file. She shot ahead and left, determined to conquer at least one obstacle in her world where the insurmountable seemed to be piling up faster than she could kick her way through.
Her snow machine lurched to the side. A scream slipped past her lips before she could hold it back. Her brain scrambled to assess what the hell was happening as she spun out. From the corner of her eye, she saw a blade from her vehicle skidding off and away. The world became a blur of white as she skidded…
Toward the edge of the cliff, with icy waters below.
Chapter 14
Horror spiked through Wade for a flash before instincts kicked into overdrive. Sunny didn’t have more than an instant before her snowmobile would catapult over the ledge.
His arm snaked out. And right between spins, he snagged her around her waist. Muscles screamed as loudly as the shrieking engine beneath him.
He steered with his other hand, straining to keep his snowmobile level and on the path while he leaned. Eyes locked ahead, he was still too aware of the danger less than a foot away. A sheer drop-off into icy waters.
The back of Sunny’s snow machine rammed into his, launching his ride sideways. He refused to let go of her. He clamped his legs tighter to the seat. Stayed put. For now.
Like with rescue missions in the past, he trusted his training and forged ahead. Yet, a flicker of doubt snapped at his brain, niggling him with the hellish possibility that he could fail Sunny.
But if he did, he would damn well die trying. He gritted his teeth and hauled harder, a shout punching through his body as he ripped her from her sliding vehicle.
She slammed against his chest. Her arms clamped around his neck and he cut the power. Fast. Praying he hadn’t run over her legs in the mad flail of limbs. But thank God, thank God, she was alive. He eyed the trajectory of his snowmobile, gauging if he would need to bail before it… skidded… to a… stop.
The engine shuddered and choked, sputtering off sideways across the path.
“Sunny?” he shouted into the mic, into the air, not wanting to waste a second on finding out how best to reach her.
She stirred in his arms, twisting to turn around. “I’m okay… I think…”
His brain went numb with relief until everything else blurred except the feel of her alive and unharmed against him. He ripped his helmet off, flipped up her faceplate, and sealed his mouth to hers. Hard and insistent. She froze, but only a second, before locking her arms around his neck and giving back with every bit as much urgency. Her body pressed closer, firmer, against his. If it had been even remotely possible, he would have been inside her right here, right now, on the edge of a cliff in below-freezing temps. The magnitude of the moment, of what could have happened, scraped at his already raw insides and he tore himself from her.
He leaned over, holding his knees, sucking in gulps of air. Blinking back the fog, Wade looked down. An arm’s reach away, the ground