Chapter Twenty-One
Chance stopped and turned. He acted as though he’d heard someone call his name. Jane didn’t hear anything new. “What?”
He didn’t answer. Of course. She peered across the bleak landscape. Maybe he’d spotted a new challenge to defeat. Something to keep his spirits up, like a rattlesnake or landmine.
Chance shielded his eyes and searched the sky. Jane’s stomach knotted as his intense focus tightened. Then she heard it, too—a faint beat. Her spine stiffened. The sound grew louder, lower. Helicopter blades? Her heart jumped. Rescue.
“Piece of cake.” He opened his pack.
Jane shrieked, then pointed. “There! I see it!”
“Good eyes.” He extracted a small canister and ripped a pull-tab off. Bright red smoke hissed free. “I told you we’d be fine.”
Chance waved the smoke signal, and Jane waved her arms.
He laughed. “Thanks for the help.”
“Oh, be quiet!” She wanted to drop to her knees and thank God—and she wanted to kiss her white knight. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing with everything she had as they watched the helicopter in the distance change course and move their way.
A sudden, painful realization hit her like an avalanche. This was it. Their journey was over. Would she see Chance again?
After an eternity spent searching for their rescue helicopter, it suddenly seemed to arrive too fast. The blades displaced the air, and it had grown from near a pinprick in size to a massive black beast.
Sand swirled as it descended from above them. Chance pulled her makeshift veil farther over her face and then covered his eyes. “Your chariot awaits.”
She stole a look at the helicopter hovering above them.
Ropes dropped. Chance gestured to the man who hung out the side.
She couldn’t understand their hand signals.
Looking up and then down again, her balance faltered.
Dizzy, she didn’t feel as strong as the last time the chopper had come. Jane gripped his arm. “I can’t.”
“What?” He ripped the black fabric from her head and shoulders.
He couldn’t hear her, and he wasn’t paying attention. Did he expect her to hang on a rope? She’d fall. With rescue in sight, pure exhaustion whipped through her mind and muscles. “I can’t.”
Black spots scored her vision. She swayed. Her knees threatened to buckle. Jane closed her eyes, barely feeling Chance pull her close, tightening his grip around her like a belt.
“Jane?”
She didn’t want to open her eyes.
His hands cupped her cheeks. “Come on. The hard part’s over.”
Her eyes met his, then dropped to his mouth.
“I’ve got you.”
She noticed the ropes between them, the harness and the carabiners clipped between them. The slack tightened.
“Good to go?” he asked.
“Good to go.” She stepped into his embrace, wrapping a hand around the rope. The harness pulled, and the helicopter rose. Her dirty sneakers dangled, and they lifted higher and higher.
Jane closed her eyes and clung so tightly to Chance that she probably cut off circulation to some of his important body parts. Days-old stubble grazed her forehead, and the arm around her remained steady and strong as a steel bar on a rollercoaster.
They swung, turning and jerking as they were pulled to safety while traveling across the desert. She took one last look at where they’d come from, then buried her face into his protective hold. Even as the ropes jerked, his arms never once wavered, and she never felt unsafe.
She turned from his chest and saw the opening of the helicopter. A uniformed man reached out and pulled her aboard. He did most of the work. Her legs were jelly.
Jane turned to Chance. He easily hopped in, released the carabiner clip, and met her gaze.
“You did great, Mary Poppins.”
Her weak smile barely showed. An overwhelming urge to bawl like a baby clogged her throat.
“Jane?” the man in front of her said as though it weren’t the first time he’d tried to get her attention.
She noticed he had his fingers on her wrist as though he were checking her pulse. But her attention followed Chance. He moved to a bench and pulled on a headset. He seemed to hold more than one conversation between the guy next to him and whoever was talking in his ears.
A pinprick jabbed her arm. She watched the man, maybe a medic, start an IV bag of fluids.
He ran through a battery of questions, ranging from who the president was to where she was now.
Her bleary vision clouded, and she curled into a ball.
The helicopter’s vibrations and white noise lulled her toward sleep, but she shot up.
“Where’s the little boy?” Her heart raced. “Teddy. Is he okay?”
The man shined a light in her eyes.
“Stop.” She batted his hand away. “You already did that.”
“Ma’am—”
“Is Teddy Thane okay?”
“We’ll update you shortly.” He flashed the light again. When he finished, he produced a bottle of water. “Thirsty?”
She clutched the cold bottle, taking a greedy gulp.
“Slowly.” He eased it from her lips. “The IV fluids will hydrate without cramping you up. Slow, small sips.”
She obeyed, taking small drinks as instructed until his scrutiny waned, and gave him the okay to check her over.
Chance slid onto the bench next to her, bottle of water in hand. “Doing better?” He offered her another of the protein bars that she didn’t like.
Appreciatively, though, she took it. “I haven’t heard how Teddy’s doing.”
He nodded then motioned to the man who’d hung out the helicopter and pulled them in.
“Teddy Thane doing okay?” Chance asked.
The man nodded, but she couldn’t hear what he said. Chance fitted a set of headphones over her ears.
“The kid’s doing well,” the man said. “Cleaned up and playing on his iPad, last I heard.”
“Thank you—” She realized she didn’t know his name. “Thanks.”
Chance hopped at the opportunity to make introductions. “Jane, this is Hagan Carter.”
Hagan nodded. Their conversation continued. She laughed at their banter. Despite where they’d come from, the men surrounding her seemed relaxed, doing their jobs today could have been any other day.
Suddenly, she shivered and couldn’t fight her jittery chill. Days of adrenaline spikes had run their course. She was more depleted than she knew possible, and the warring emotions of fear, gratitude, and fragility overwhelmed her.
Chance slipped his arm around her shoulder and held her close, whispering that all would be okay.
Hagan and the medic faded away, and Jane reveled in his attention.
She wasn’t used to relying on someone, but right then, she needed his support.
As he continued the low, rhythmic croon that everything would be all right, she believed him for the time being.
Jane dropped her head onto his shoulder, and he rested his chin on the top of her head.
Tears pricked. Soon, she’d have to let him go, and that pained her.
A realization hit her as though cymbals had crashed in her ears.
He wasn’t just the good-looking white knight with a backside she liked to ogle.
He was the man who saved her life, who lived on the other side of the world, and who she’d fallen for somewhere on their journey through the depths of hell.