Page 273 of Her Reluctant Hero
“Damn it, Gabe, this is a plane, not a chopper,” the pilot snapped. “Sit the hell down.”
Unwilling to take his word for it, Gabe scanned the land below for a stretch, anyplace he could get off. “I have to get down there.”
“You don’t have your gear,” Jen said, her voice maddeningly calm as she stepped up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll call Doug’s crew. They can get to her.”
Gabe whirled, shoving her placating hand away. “I will not sit down and wait while she’s in danger. And you might want to remember where Doug is, and who might have put him there.”
“Gabe—” He recognized the stubborn expression on her face, but he was ready to out-stubborn her. Peyton was down there.
Peyton. He loved her. And she could be dying, maybe dead, Goddamnit, and he couldn’t get to her. This was how she must have felt when Dan died, how she thought it was her fault, if she’d only done something differently. If only he’d followed his instincts, the ones that never failed him, she’d be safe now.
He turned to the pilot. “I have to get to Bounty. I need Doug Sheridan to help me.”
“Are you insane? We have the president of the United States aboard. I can’t just fly any damn where. Besides, Doug’s in jail. They aren’t going to let him out just because you say so.”
“Doug Sheridan, the man they say set this monster?” the president asked sternly.
Jen’s body jerked at the words—crap, the old man didn’t know Doug was Jen’s husband— but Gabe turned to meet the president’s eyes. “He’s accused, sir, but he didn’t do it. That woman down there, and I believe her brother, are the ones who set the fire.”
“Give me the radio.” The president leaned toward Tony. He gave Gabe a last look. “You’re sure this guy is innocent.”
“Mr. President, you just saw that woman strike down the reporter. What other reason would she have to do that, unless Peyton found out something?”
Again, the president hesitated, and Gabe’s chest squeezed in anticipation. Then Hutchinson took the radio from Tony and called dispatch. “Give me the sheriff’s office.”
*****
Peyton opened her eyes to a blurry world, no longer in the ash, but in grass high enough that she couldn’t see without raising her head. It only took a moment before she remembered where she was, and the pounding in the back of her head reminded her of what she was doing here.
Kim.
A scent, a sound too familiar had her blinking and lifting her head from the ground.
Flames leapt higher than a man’s head in the forest not two hundred yards away. A sense of unreality swamped her. This wasn’t happening again. How many times could one person survive this?
She blinked, wiped her sleeve over her eyes, already sweating against the pulsing heat from the fire down the mountain.
Swaying, she staggered to her feet, lifted a hand to the back of her head and pulled it away sticky with blood. She needed help. She scanned the area. No Kim. No pack. She felt at her hip for the envelope sized fire shelter. Gone. Her stomach dropped.
No help. She was on her own.
*****
Once again Gabe’s emotions had clouded his common sense. All he could think about was getting to Peyton, tools or no tools, plane or no plane. As long as she was around for him to worry about, he had no business in a command position. Good thing the president had understood his agitation, because those Secret Service guys glowered as if they were ready to throw Gabe out of the plane, which wouldn’t be bad, if he had a parachute and his gear.
Doug waited for him at the airfield in Missoula, approached the plane matter-of-factly, already decked out in his gear. Joe-fucking-superhero. He nodded to Gabe and moved past him to greet the president, who debarked to follow Gabe curiously. Then Doug turned and gestured for the two men and their entourage to follow him to the barracks.
“I packed a parachute for you. It’s a little different from the ones you used to use,” Doug said over his shoulder. “I’ll show you how to steer the toggles. We’ll reconnoiter for a drop point before we jump. Just try not to land in a tree, all right?” He shoved a pack at Gabe with a crooked grin.
Despite Gabe helping Doug the past few days, he didn’t want to be in a position of need. His hands tightened around the pack. He’d vowed never to put on another parachute, but now he had no choice. “Let’s go.”
Doug stood still, all patience. Sure, he could afford to be. His woman wasn’t on the mountain, her life in danger. And he’d been released because the president himself pulled some strings. Since he hadn’t yet been sentenced, well, here he was.
“These are my guys, Fred and Josh,” Doug said. “In case we need extra hands out there.”
Gabe didn’t care for that idea. Two more lives to worry about.
“In case Peyton or one of us gets hurt,” Doug continued. “Okay with you?”
