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No one wanted to go into the pit again, but because Norm was the lightest, he was chosen to be roped down. Mick and Chuck lowered him in silence. Bringing up a body wasn’t a chore any of them wanted. But it had to be done. The process took longer than Mick had judged, because he had to keep prodding Chuck to pull on his rope. Once they had the body up, Chuck and Norm were so rattled, erecting the tents fell to Mick. The other men didn’t understand why Mick demanded two of their tents, and he wasn’t about to spell out for them that Jess needed to be under cover because of wolves and other predators.
Long shadows had slipped across the eerily silent clearing by the time Mick finished and flatly declared, “Look, I’ve gotta take off.” Mick shook hands with first Norm then Chuck. As he left the site, the men dragged Roger, who had begun to stir, into the larger of the two tents. Mick knew they didn’t want him to leave, but it was now or never.
Kari was gritting her teeth in pain, and Hana looked like death waiting in the wings.
Mick hadn’t totally shut down the rotors, hoping to keep them from freezing up. Still, as he tried to lift off, the escalating wind was determined to drive him back into the hillside. He waged a battle of determination in his head while steadily increasing power to the rotors.
Sweat popped out on his brow and several drops slid down his nose as the tail rotor caught the downdraft and the main body of the aircraft bucked and pitched. He thought he was a goner.
Both women screamed, nearly bursting Mick’s eardrums. He’d outfitted them with headsets to minimize the chopper noise, and also as a means to communicate with them if they panicked. Kari had resisted being buckled on a stretcher, but she couldn’t get up to sit in the copilot’s seat, so Mick had insisted on strapping her in. Because Hana had thrashed about earlier, Mick worried she’d break her restraints now or in flight.
He recognized that this wasn’t the safest way to carry injured passengers on a two-hour flight. But he’d come this far, and Hana was alive. She’d said something the other day that stuck with Mick. Or rather, it was something she’d implied—a lot of people in Hana Egan’s life had let her down. By damn, he didn’t intend to be another person who failed her.
A giant sucking sound rent the air. The big helicopter popped loose from the stranglehold of the downdrafts and shot up and away from the side hill like a cork exploding from a champagne bottle. Mick’s lungs eased as he let out a breath.
“Mick?” Kari’s voice spoke urgently in his ear. “I felt the wall behind me rattle. What’s wrong? Are we going down?” Fear made her voice shrill.
“Relax, Kari. Everything’s fine,” he said, hoping she couldn’t see him shake out a handkerchief and mop his forehead. “How did Hana deal with liftoff?”
“Fine, I guess. God, I hurt everywhere from all the shaking.”
“Sorry. I wish I had more pillows.”
She said nothing, which was okay with Mick. He wanted to radio the ranger station and let someone there know his passengers’ names and his destination. He’d also like them to alert Wylie’s rescue party as to what they’d find at the end of their trek, but that wasn’t the way Kari and Hana should learn what happened to Jess.
Trudy Morgenthal, the regular dispatcher, picked up Mick’s call to headquarters. “Nice of you to touch base at long last, Callen. You’ve got everyone in a tizzy. And in Marlee’s condition, a tizzy’s the last thing she needs.”
“You haven’t heard from Wylie?”
“Wylie and Bill have called in a dozen times asking for updates from you.”
“Yeah, well, I had my hands full.”
Not free to say much more, Mick kept his transmission to Trudy short. He clicked off after asking her to tell Marlee he’d touch base after he reached Kalispell.
He felt a shimmer of guilt for leaving Marlee and the kids stranded. He could, he supposed, be back to ranger headquarters by 4:00 a.m. or so. All he was obligated to do was wait for an ambulance. Once the smoke jumpers were on their way to the hospital, he could return and take the Ames family home. He could. But Mick already knew he was going to tag along to the hospital.
His headset crackled. Kari asked shakily when they’d land.
“In about ninety minutes. I’ll radio ahead for an ambulance when we’re fifteen minutes out.”
“I need to phone my boyfriend,” she said.
“He wasn’t on the climb?” Mick glanced back into the dim interior.
“He’s not a smoke jumper. His name is Joe. He didn’t want me to make this climb. He said I wouldn’t get home in time to celebrate his mom’s birthday. Now I’ll definitely miss it,” she sobbed. “And I’ll probably have to ask him to come up here and drive me home.”
“Where do you live? Southern California, like Hana?”
“No,” she sniffed. “Denver. This was my last year as a smoke jumper. That’s why I wanted to make this trek with the crew.”
With Jess gone, Mick wondered who Hana would call. Did she have anyone?
“Is Hana awake?” Mick knew she could hear him if she was conscious.
He heard her ragged whisper. “I’m awake. I’m in a lot of pain, mostly in my lower back. And I can’t feel my toes.”
That didn’t sound good to Mick, who’d taken advanced first aid courses in order to fly for Angel Fleet. He figured from Hana’s torn and bloody jeans that she’d bounced over rocks before landing in the crevasse. Chuck, Norm and Roger hadn’t gone to any extra effort to support her back before pulling her out. But then, Mick had rolled her onto the stretcher. Chills swept his spine as he considered that he might have done her more harm than good in brushing snow off her back.
The last thing he wanted to do was transmit his panic to her. “I strapped you on the stretcher pretty tight. Listen, ladies, we’re coming into some turbulence. It’ll probably hurt but we should get through it quickly.”
He hit an air pocket and dropped, then shot up almost as fast. Someone cried out sharply, and then both moaned in what must have been agony. Mick hated hearing them in pain and knowing he could do nothing to help.
He’d hoped for a break in the weather before he came within radio range of the Kalispell airpark. But no such luck. This storm seemed determined to beat Montana up on all sides.
“It won’t be long until you get real medical attention,” he told them ten minutes later. “I’m going to call now to ask for an ambulance. The paramedics will come onboard and give you something for pain before they move you.”
Kari answered for the two of them with a weak, “Thanks, Mick.”
He switched dials and made the request. Time was wasted as Mick had to explain to the dispatcher that this call wasn’t in conjunction with Angel Fleet. Moments later, he was in the approach pattern to the airpark, when the tower imparted more bad news.
“It’s been snowing hard and steady. We have no clear runway. Advise you to divert to a major airport.”
“I have injured onboard,” Mick informed the air controller. “Request permission to land. I don’t have enough fuel to go to International.”
When a voice finally agreed to let him land, Mick had little doubt his request would’ve been refused if he’d been flying any aircraft other than the Huey. Of course, had he been flying either of his light planes, or Wylie’s, he couldn’t have set down on the mountain.
It was just now eleven, which meant the rangers hiking up to rescue the stranded may have arrived. No telling how long it’d take them to trek out.
He rolled his head to ease the tension building between his shoulder blades, and listened to the controller issue directions for landing. Mick could barely make out the tower lights. Wind slammed him one way and just as fast jerked him back the other direction. He had to cut more power to fight a spin.
There wasn’t a peep from the back, though some offensive language certainly left his mouth. Old habits formed in the military died hard.
It seemed to take a long time, but at last he corrected the spin. However, he was very near the ground. So near he was blinded by flashing lights from the emergency vehicle mere seconds before the Huey’s runners smacked the snowy tarmac.
A sigh of relief rushed from his lungs. Mick had rarely had such a bad landing.
He shut down the rotors and jumped from the cockpit, grimacing from the pain that clutched his bad hip. His limp was so pronounced, one of the emergency crew assumed he was one of the injured. “Old war wound,” Mick muttered, opening the door to give the medics access to the real patients.
The women didn’t look good. Even in the diffused light flickering sporadically through whorls of blowing snow, Mick saw tracks from their tears marring their cheeks.
The medics got the women out and onto gurneys. Mick felt relief knowing a qualified attendant was caring for Hana and Kari.
Once the emergency vehicle had disappeared through the main gate, he hobbled to the office and left orders to refuel the Huey. “I won’t be flying out again tonight,” he told the clerk. He needed to know the extent of Hana’s injuries. And whether or not in his zeal to rescue her he’d caused more damage.
CHAPTER FOUR
ON THE SHORT WALK to the lot where he kept Pappy’s old Cadillac for just such trips to town, Mick opened his cell to call his twin.
Marlee answered so fast, Mick knew she must’ve been holding her phone. “Mick! I’m so relieved. You can’t imagine how much worse the weather’s gotten here—and on the mountain, according to Wylie.”
“I’m sorry to leave you stuck there. Are you okay? How about the kids and the dogs?”
“We’re fine. The dogs, too. We’re all bunking with Ellen Russell. Wylie’s decided to borrow one of the park’s four-wheel SUVs tomorrow and drive home. Forecasters predict this storm’s going to hang around. Wylie said there’s no sense for you to risk your neck flying back up here. Sorry as I am to cut your visit short, I agree. I guess you know Dean’s happy enough to keep Wingman.”
“Did he mention I asked him to dog-sit while I go on vacation?”
“He did. But if you change your mind, we’d still love to have you come for the holidays.”
“I know. I’ll give it some thought. Right now I have other things on my mind. I’m on my way to the hospital to check on the climbers I brought in.”
“Trudy said you were transporting two women. She said they had multiple injuries.”
“Yeah.” He was hesitant to tell his pregnant sister about Jess. On the other hand, he needed her to contact Wylie and let him know the situation.
“What aren’t you telling me, Mick?”
Marlee had always had a sixth sense when it came to things he didn’t want to spill. “One man died in the fall,” he said. “Another, a young guy, went ballistic when he found out I couldn’t carry everyone out. Chuck Hutton decked him. The kid’s liable to try to cause trouble for Chuck and me. Will you alert Wylie?”
“I’ll get him on the radio right now. Oh, Mick, I’m so sorry. How well did you know the man who died?” Her voice dropped in sympathy.
“We weren’t friends. He’s worked for Len Martin the longest, though. The thing is, I think he and one of the injured women were more than coworkers.” Linking Hana and Jess left Mick with a sinking feeling. “Uh, Hana doesn’t know Jess didn’t make it out. I’m probably going to have to break the news to her.”
WHY DID THE NAME HANA sound familiar? Marlee couldn’t place it. “You sound… Mick, it hasn’t been that long since you found Pappy Jack dead in his bed. Has this triggered post-traumatic stress?”
“I’m fine. I’m sick for Hana. As soon as the doctors get her pain under control, I know she’ll start thinking straight and she’ll be asking about Jess.”
“Shouldn’t you phone Captain Martin and let him handle telling her? I realize this climb was something his crew did on their own, but since they all worked for him, isn’t he the logical one to notify next of kin?”
“I suppose he should be told. They were all set to leave Montana for the winter…” Mick hesitated again. “Hana doesn’t have family anywhere.”
“Mick,” his sister said slowly, “am I missing something? Lord knows nobody has a bigger, softer heart than you, but…this injured woman who’s just lost her boyfriend must have other friends. Closer friends.”
“I didn’t say Jess Hargitay was her boyfriend.”
“No, but you did say they were more than coworkers.”
“Listen, Marlee, I want to get to the hospital. So, I’ll talk to you later. You just need to get on the two-way and tell Wylie what went on with the kid. His name’s Roger Dorn.”
“All right,” she said. “But we’re not done with this conversation. Call me tomorrow.”
“So you can find a dozen more ways to call me a pushover?”
“I didn’t. Mick, why are you so touchy?”
He heaved a sigh. “It’s been a stressful day. Bye, Marlee.” He hung up.
AS HE LEFT THE AIRPARK, Mick shut off his phone and tucked it in his pocket. Marlee wasn’t his mother or his conscience. She was two or three minutes older. And since the age of nine, when they’d learned this fact, she’d reminded him of it.
He exited the freeway and soon pulled into a snow-covered hospital parking lot. It looked like a Christmas card, with snow slanting past the brightly lit building. This was where he’d had his surgery last year. Mick remembered it had rained the day Marlee had checked him out.
As he approached the reception desk to ask about Hana, his mind flashed over the good times and bad ones he and Marlee had weathered together. Even before he asked the whereabouts of Hana and Kari, Mick’s annoyance with his sister had begun to fade. She worried about the people she loved. She worried about him.
“And are you related to Hana Egan or Kari Dombroski?” The middle-aged woman behind the desk pulled down a pair of half glasses and studied Mick.
He flipped out his ID, which included his volunteer pilot status with Angel Fleet. He knew that would gain him entry even though the organization wasn’t involved. “I rescued the women off a mountaintop, and I’d like an update on their conditions.”
Impressed, the clerk flipped through a set of cards that hadn’t yet been filed. “They’ve both gone to the orthopedic floor for evaluation. Are you familiar with the hospital?” She set a map on the counter.
“Yes, thank you.” Mick collected his ID and put his wallet away. He took off, not bothering to respond to the receptionist’s casual comment about how grateful Hana and Kari must be. Kari, maybe. Hana, not necessarily.
He passed a brightly lit gift shop with a glass vase filled with greenery and miniature yellow roses in the window. Mick stopped and pushed open the etched-glass door.
A woman about his age glanced up. “May I help you?”
“Those vase thingies in your window. How much are they?”
Smiling, she picked up the vase and gave a figure. “Visiting hours are over, but we offer in-house delivery at no charge, sir. All I need is the patient’s name and room number.”
“Actually, this patient was just admitted.” He gave Hana’s name. As he did so, he remembered Kari. It wouldn’t be right to buy flowers for one and not the other. In a case behind the counter he saw a vase full of fall foliage and red flowers. “Uh, that bouquet, could you send it upstairs, too?” Mick supplied Kari’s name, hoping he’d spelled Dombroski right.
The clerk lifted an eyebrow. “What a shame that two of your lady friends were hospitalized at the same time.” She wrote instructions on a delivery tag, but watched Mick from under her lashes. Apparently he’d interested her.
He could’ve put an end to her curiosity, but didn’t. He swiped his credit card, signed the bill and pocketed the receipt. Mick walked out and went straight to the elevator.
He’d spent a week on this same ward, he realized when he stepped off the car. He hated confinement, and hadn’t been the most cheerful patient, even though he’d received plenty of extra attention from several nurses. Especially Tammy Skidmore, who had slipped him her home phone number the day he’d checked out. Marlee had met Tammy several times. His sister liked the nurse and still bugged him periodically to ask Tammy for a date. Which Mick had not done.
Tonight, he found himself hoping she wasn’t on duty. She was nice enough, but she hadn’t shot up his interest antennae. Not like Hana did.
Mick scanned the nurses’ station. Four of them sat at the L-shaped desk in the glassed enclosure. Mick recognized one. Rosemary Dubuque. Privately, Mick had dubbed her Rosie the Riveter, because she was the one who most often delivered his nightly pain medication, and popped him with a needle in his butt none too gently. And all too gleefully, it seemed to Mick.
She looked up when Mick strolled to the counter. “Well, if it isn’t our pretty boy pilot. Don’t tell me you’ve finally come hunting for Tammy after going off and breaking her heart?”
That comment had the other nurses giving Mick the once-over.
“Actually, Rosemary, I flew two fallen climbers off a Glacier peak. I’d like to see how they’re getting along. I want to be sure they’ve been able to reach their relatives.” Mick wrote their names on the visitors’ sign-in sheet. “Frankly, I doubt my not calling Tammy broke her up all that much.”
“You’re right. In fact, if you’re interested,” she said, getting out of her chair to turn the clipboard around so she could read the names, “our Tammy no longer works here. She met a long-haul trucker and quit her job a month ago. They’re traveling the States in his eighteen-wheeler.”
That surprised Mick, but he was relieved. “Good for her. If you talk to her sometime, give her my best.”
“Humph! These two you’re asking about are still with doctors. Nothing’s come down to us yet except their admitting forms. No way to tell how long they’ll be tied up.” That was a broad hint for Mick to leave.
A delivery man from the gift shop strode up to the desk and plunked down the two vases of flowers Mick had purchased. Rosemary broke off, taking time out to sign for the bouquets. She inspected the cards stuck on plastic posts. “Well, aren’t you the Casanova? I must say, you do spread your charm around.” She set the vases behind the counter. “Someone will see that your ladies get these as soon as they’re assigned rooms. As I was about to say, if I were you, I wouldn’t hang around and wait.”
“You aren’t me. I’ll be in the waiting room. Please have someone notify me when Hana gets to a room. And Kari,” he added a half beat later.
Nurse Rosie might not have responded except that Mick didn’t budge from his spot until she nodded her assent.
