Page 281 of Her Reluctant Hero
“Everyone’s good. You can’t make it, and you won’t. You’re going down in the chopper.”
“Going down is what worries me,” Gabe said wryly. “Send Peyton back. Kim hit her in the head with her Pulaski.”
“Still trying to be boss,” Peyton chided and rolled her eyes at Doug, who hid a grin.
“Peyton will be just fine,” Doug said. “The chopper’s bringing us water, then we’re out of here. You’re on your own.”
Gabe opened his mouth to say something, but instead coughed until Peyton feared he’d crack a rib.
“Damn it, where are they?” Doug scanned the sky.
God, it hurt to see Gabe in pain, out of control. It hurt even more because his helplessness had to make him crazy, especially in front of Doug. Though she doubted he’d happily show her any weakness.
Above them a helicopter soared by, looped back to hover about twenty feet from where Gabe lay. The rotors kicked up dust and ash and Peyton leaned forward to shield Gabe with her body. Doug covered his face with a bandana and ran toward the helicopter, leaned in to shout something at the pilot before he turned and gestured for Peyton.
“Come on.” She helped Gabe to his feet. He leaned heavily on her and she staggered under his weight. The dust in the air sent him coughing again, halting their progress.
One of the helicopter crew ran out to help her, took most of Gabe’s weight and dragged him to the chopper before dumping him in the back.
“Have you got room for me?” she yelled at the pilot, after inspecting the cramped interior.
Before the pilot could answer, Gabe gripped her wrist. “She’s coming with us,” he choked out. He glowered at Peyton then. “If I have to do this, so do you.”
“Big baby,” she muttered and crawled in beside him. “I’m Mr. Big Hot Shot,” she mocked. “I’m not afraid to fight fires but I’m afraid to fly.”
“I heard that,” he said.
“Good.” She sought in vain for a seat belt beneath her, instead settling for a death grip on the bar beside her head.
The crewman handed bottled water back to them and Peyton released the bar to lean forward. “We need to get an oxygen mask on him.”
“No. We don’t,” Gabe contradicted.
“He inhaled a lot of smoke out there.”
“It can wait. Damn it, Peyton, I hate those masks.” Another round of coughing had Peyton exchanging a glance with the crewman. The man handed her a portable tank and a mask with a pointed look.
“As long as you put it on him.” The crewman laughed.
Gabe tried to look fierce as Peyton slipped the mask on his face.
“Oh, I’m scared,” she said.
He yanked the mask off, struggling not to cough.
“Gabe,” she scolded.
“Peyton,” he echoed, holding her eyes for a long minute before his drifted shut. “You did good out there. Real good.” And then he passed out.
