Page 52 of Suddenly Tempted
He left the note on the table, beside their unfinished game of cards. He carefully rested the pen on the paper. Sadness gnawed at his heart, and once again he wondered if he was doing the right thing. No. This was the right thing, he was sure of it. For once, he wasn’t acting out of selfishness. He was doing it for her, for Darcy. And he couldn’t believe how much it hurt.
He hoped the letter would make her angry, because anger was easier to carry than sadness. It was better for her, a cleaner break. But the truth gnawed at him — he wasn’t good enough for her. He, the man who could have anything, was unworthy of the one thing he realised he truly wanted. That irony cut deeper than he expected, a reminder that for the first time in his life, having it all wasn’t enough.
A bright stream of sunshine burst through the windows of the outpost and through the bunkroom door, Devlin saw Darcy stir on the bed again, her hair fanning out around her face like a halo. He needed to go before she woke up. Taking one last look at the woman who had somehow broken through to his core, he then paused at the table, staring at the note, hoping he had done the right thing — for her.
It would be too difficult to carry the suitcase, he thought, so he opened it up and reached inside.
The tin seemed heavier now than it had two days ago. He was amazed it was still sealed shut, given what it had been through. He ran a hand over it gently, feeling his throat close at the thought of what it contained. Puffing out his cheeks, Devlin took a breath to compose himself. He could put up his wall again, protect himself from what he knew was coming. He slid the tin into his coat pocket and left the suitcase next to the leg of the table before tiptoeing his way out of the living quarters. The storm had blown through, and the mountain was utterly silent. The first few rays of sunlight were rising in the entrance hall, too, so bright that it seemed as if the peaks of the mountains were on fire. By the depth of the lights of the helipad he could see that a good few feet of snow had fallen overnight, but not enough to slow him down.
He checked his watch to see that it was 6.45. It was getting late. He should really have left by now, but he had the decency to wait until he heard the distant rumble of a rescue helicopter for Darcy before opening the door. Snow tumbled in and he kicked his way through it, shutting the outpost tightly closed behind him, doing one last thing to keep Darcy safe. The cold hit him like he’d fallen into a deep, dark lake, making his body shudder in protest. His arm felt like it was burning. Everything ached, and despite the sleep he’d had, he felt utterly exhausted. Devlin had no idea how he was going to be able to get to where he needed to get to, except that he was just going to have to put one foot in front of the other and push through. He knew that he should wait here, with Darcy, that he should climb on board the chopper with her and ride home to the warmth and some proper food and a doctor who could mend his broken arm.
Instead, he pulled up the hood of his jacket, clutched the tin to his chest, and trudged out into the snow.
Chapter 27
DARCY
The sound of thunder drew Darcy up from dreams of cold ice cream and warm cuddles. She rolled over, smiling, remembering the way she had felt last night. The happy, belly-aching warmth of how Devlin had made her feel. Thunder was good. It meant the storm was still raging. It meant that she would have more time here with the man who had made her feel like this outpost in the middle of the mountains was home. She gathered him close, pushing her face into the familiar smell of him, reaching for his arms, his hands, then his legs, and — he was softer than she remembered him being. Downy. Squashy. Smelled a little mouldy.
“What?” she said, sitting up. The thing she held in her arms wasn’t Devlin at all — it was a pillow. For a moment she was grateful for that fact, because it was covered in her drool. Then she blinked the fuzziness from her vision to see that the bunkroom was completely empty.
“Devlin?” she called. The thunder outside was louder than ever, and with a jolt of her heart, she realised it wasn’t thunder at all. It was a helicopter.
She clambered off the bed, threw the blanket around her body, and ran to the window. The snow had piled up on the other side of the glass, but past it she could see a huge, bright-orange helicopter spinning lazily as it dropped towards the landing pad. Its rotors kicked up another storm of snow, flecks drumming against the window.
“Devlin?” she cried, running through the bunkroom and out into the living quarters. “The helicopter is here!”
As disappointing as it was to know that her time alone with Devlin had come to an end, she was excited to be heading home. She couldn’t wait to have a warm bath, a proper bed, a decent meal. Then maybe, just maybe, she and Devlin could carry on where they had left off last night.
She smiled to herself as she skipped back into the bunkroom and found herself the warmest snow-gear she could get her hands on. It had been one of the most wonderful nights of her life and her skin fizzed at the memory of his touch as she pulled on a jumper and a pair of oversized trousers.
“Devlin?” she called again, checking the bathroom.
It was empty so she washed her face and ran some water around her mouth as she called his name again, a feeling of dread starting to work itself up from her stomach.
He’ll be outside, directing the helicopter where to land, she thought.Or in the office, radioing for a new box of Frosted Flakes to be delivered to his hospital wing.Tying her trousers tight and pulling on some socks, Darcy headed back out to the living quarters.
“Devlin, we’re being rescued,” Darcy shouted one last time, rushing past the table and almost tripping on the empty suitcase. The dread exploded into full-blown panic.
She ran to the hallway and the front door. The floor here was covered in snow, as if the door had just been opened. Darcy checked the garage to find it empty, then grabbed the front door and hauled it open. The cold gripped her like a fist and she squealed as the snow fell on her stockinged feet. Clutching her arms to her chest, she stumbled outside just as the helicopter was touching down.
“Devlin?” she cried out. “Where are you?”
He didn’t answer, and he didn’t need to. She could see the deep holes that his footprints had made in the snow, leading around the landing pad and disappearing up the slope.
“What are you doing?” she yelled into the sunlit snow, though she knew he wouldn’t hear her.
There was no time to think, though, as two figures in orange thermal gear were already climbing out of the helicopter and running towards her. She retreated into the outpost so that they could get through the door.
“Darcy?” said one, pulling off a pair of reflective goggles and a hat to reveal a kind, wrinkled face. Darcy nodded at him, suddenly gripped by an intense round of shivers. The man put a gentle hand on her arm and steered her through the door, back into the living quarters. “Come on, let’s get you warm. We don’t want you catching hypothermia now you’re about to be rescued.”
The other ranger took off her hat and goggles and gave Darcy a smile that was full of compassion and relief.
“We’re so glad to see you alive,” she said. “Our choppers saw the wreckage of the bird you were flying in. You both did well getting out of that and making it here, especially in the middle of a storm like the one we just had. Are you ready to leave? We can have you down the mountain in fifteen minutes. How about that?”
“Leave?” Darcy said. “What about Devlin?”
The two rangers shared a look, then the man turned to Darcy with a sigh.
