Page 28 of Colton in the Wild
“Take it easy,” he said. “It’s Dad, and he knows the situation. He can’t land here, so we have to head back to the beach, by the plane.”
She only nodded. She was trying to fold up the blanket, but he grabbed it and what was left of the four emergency ration bars he’d taken out, and stuffed it all into the pack. He’d straighten things out and restock the bag when they got to base. Or maybe the next day, after he’d had about twelve hours of sleep and time to recuperate from the terrifying fear of losing Hetty.
Once he had the backpack settled on his shoulders, he turned to look at Hetty. She was propping herself up against a cave wall, but, even so, looked far too unsteady for his comfort.
“Don’t get mad at me…” he began.
“I’ve sworn off.” She managed a smile, but it was a bit wobbly. “Temporarily anyway.”
“Good. Because we need to get back to the beach ASAP, and you trying to walk is going to really slow us up.” He didn’t mention it could well start her bleeding again, and she’d already lost too much.
“I can—”
He cut her off. “I have no doubt you could, if you had to. But you don’t have to, Hetty. You’re not alone.”
That was when he moved and, in one swift but very careful motion, picked her up in his arms, settling her against him as he had before.
“Spence, no,” she protested. “From where I was shot to here is one thing, but all the way back—”
“Hush.” He pushed away the errant thought that he would like to hush her by kissing her so hard and deep she couldn’t talk. But this was hardly the time, and she was in no condition. And he was starting to wish he’d never let loose his feelings to her last night, because they seemed to think they now had free rein. “It’ll be fine.”
He knew it would be. She was no lightweight. She was only about four inches shorter than his own six feet, and she was fit, with lots of muscle, but now that getting her out of here and to medical help was within reach, he felt like he could run a marathon carrying her. He just had to hope the adrenaline pouring through him would last long enough to get her to the helicopter.
It was tough going, and having to make sure there was enough clearance between the trees to get her long-legged frame through without jostling her wound, made it even trickier. Plus he had to be alert to everything around them, just in case the shooter really was still around.
He didn’t know how long it really took, but it seemed far too long before they broke clear of the tree line and he saw the RTA helicopter sitting in the clearing above the beach where the plane was tied off, just as they’d left it. And climbing out of the plane’s cockpit was his father. As nimble as ever, Ryan Colton jumped from the portside float to the beach and headed toward them at a run.
When he reached them, Spence could see his father’s expression was grim and angry. He’d obviously seen the mess in the cockpit, the bullet hole, the ripped-up control panel, broken dials and destroyed radio. But he took one look at Hetty and instantly his loving father was back.
“Don’t you worry, Hetty. I radioed ahead to the trauma center and they’re on standby for us. You’ll be fine.”
She managed to smile at the man who was acting more like doting parent than boss at present. “I’m okay. I just feel a little woozy, that’s all.”
Spence wanted to hold her the entire way, but it wasn’t practical inside the ’copter. So they stretched her out on the second row of seats, secured her as best they could, and his father went back to the controls.
Dad glanced at him, gaze fastening on the cut on his forehead.
“I’m fine,” he said before he could ask. “It’s just a cut from the glass, I think.”
“You’ll need to strap in for takeoff,” his father said with a nod toward the copilot’s seat as he put the headset back on. Then he gave Spence a sideways look. “After we’re airborne, you can get up to check on her every five minutes if you need to, but you buckle up the rest of the time.”
“Yes, sir,” Spence said, because when Ryan Colton gave an order in that tone, that’s what you did. And he had to admit, he felt a little comforted when he watched his father’s competent hands work so swiftly. He put on the copilot headset, but kept one ear clear so he could hear any sound from the back.
“Hey, it could have been worse,” Dad joked, clearly trying to lighten things up. “You could have really crashed.”
“With Hetty flying?” Spence said. “Not a chance.”
“Good point. Okay then, you could be driving.”
Spence gave a half-hearted laugh at his dad’s obvious try at Alaskan humor—applicable because driving to a medical facility would be impossible due to the simple fact of no roads that didn’t take them a hundred or more miles out of their way.
And hours of time Hetty might not have.
He’d noticed that there had been some fresh blood at the wound site when they’d put her down across the three seats that formed a bench in the back. Not a lot, but any was too much as far as he was concerned.
“Dad?” he said quietly. His father looked at him as the rotor picked up speed and volume. Spence couldn’t help the tightly wound tension in his voice when he added one word. “Hurry.”
“All possible speed,” Dad promised, and Spence knew he meant it. And it wasn’t just because Hetty was a crucial part of RTA. She was, but she was also a part of the extended Colton family. And if there was one thing he was utterly positive about in life, it was that Coltons came through for family.
