Blakely’s grip on my hand intensifies.
“Are you okay?” Her gaze is still watery when she peers up at me.
I force a grin for her sake. “Yeah, this is good. Obviously.” After a quick glance at the new arrivals, I find the path of least destruction. “How about a hospital?”
Blakely nods and whispers a quiet approval. “That’s probably best.”
Eddie claps his palms together with a shot of extra pep. “Splendid. We’ll head out when you’re ready. I’ll send word that we’re coming. What are your names?”
I’m the one to handle introductions. “Halder Rane and Blakely Cross.”
“Ah, they’ve been searching for you.”
“Shit,” I spew out with a grimace. When I dredge up the courage to look at Wippa, shock rattles through me to find her gaze on Blakely.
The woman barely spares me a glance before continuing. “Your family has been on the news quite a bit. Often enough for us to hear about you through the grapevine.”
Blakely is busy gnawing on her bottom lip. “I’m sure my mom is a mess.”
“You’ll see her soon,” I bend to whisper.
“Let’s go, eh?” Eddie hitches a thumb toward the copter.
I glance behind us, taking in the lake and mountains. Our cove and the forest wait just beyond a bend out of sight. This is the place we were left for dead, yet a pang knocks into my ribs. The memories play through my mind on fast-forward. For some reason, it’s strange to leave.
Blakely follows my gaze with a sigh. “It’s weird, right?”
I find myself nodding. “This wasn’t our choice, but we turned it into one helluva journey.”
“No regrets,” she adds.
“Not a single one.”
I usher her to the door Wippa has propped open for us. With a slight boost, Blakely clambers into the small space, and I’m hot on her heels. We get ourselves strapped in and ready for departure. Eddie passes us a set of headphones while flipping a bunch of switches. Wippa sends him several gestures ending with a thumbs-up. Soon after, the helicopter begins rumbling with vibrations. I place a palm on Blakely’s thigh and she scoots into my side.
“We’re going to be okay,” she murmurs into the crook of my neck.
I want to believe she’s talking about the relationship we’ve been building, not our health in general. With a nod, I brush my lips against her cheek. “Yeah, Lee. Everything will return to normal.”
“Our new version, at least.”
Maybe she is referring to us as a unit. I grin into the warmth of her skin. “I think we can survive anything.”
She gives me a smile of her own. “So long as we’re together.”
“I love the sound of that, sweetheart. All will be well now.” I huddle her even closer to me, inhaling the scent of fresh air and burning wood. The smell of flowers and sweet perfume will infuse her again within days. Many of our recent changes will be reversed as we journey home to civilization. But one part of the wilderness travels with us—she’ll always be mine.
Survival tip #25: Take deep breaths and don’t look down.
I exhale another stuttering breath when the chopper bounces through a fluffy cloud. My nails are seconds away from ripping the vinyl seats. Halder glances at me with a crooked smirk. That quiet reassurance has me offering a weak smile in return. I’ve been mostly silent since boarding this aircraft. Fear of the unknown has a way of stealing my speech—even the fumbling bumbles. A cramp twists my stomach as we take another unexpected dip. This flight is a lesson I didn’t need. The fuzzy cotton sensation clotting my mouth hasn’t ceased, making me wish for some melted snow. But asking for anything right now seems too steep.
Wippa and Eddie are saints for transporting us to the nearest hospital. The trouble is finding the nearest location equipped with a helicopter pad. This part of the country is remote, even the areas with established towns. Conveniently enough, depending on how optimistic I’m choosing to be, there’s one a few hours away. I’ve been constantly wondering where we were stranded. It’s rather daunting to imagine what this trip would entail if either of us was in need of serious medical attention. Would there be a closer option? Do locals have to travel this far during emergencies?
We’re nearing a border crossing somewhere in Saskatchewan, based on the static crackling through my headphones. Most of what they’ve been saying is a pile of goo to my already mucky thoughts. It’s not as if I have any control in the matter.