CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Georgia knew nothing about navigating through the mountain terrain, so she and Sue Ann had taken to feeding and watering all the search-and-rescue volunteers. The storm had broke, so the majority of people had already departed by the time she and Lucky had arrived back in Hope Falls. Those who hadn’t were sent off with thermoses of hot drinks and food to keep them going.
Hours passed without a word from anyone, and as the afternoon dragged on and the temperature plummeted, Georgia’s mind drifted to the fact that Everett had to have spent the previous night unprotected on the mountain—during a storm. If he’d survived the avalanche and survived the elements, what were the chances he could do so another night if they didn’t find him before darkness fell?
Fear gripped her as she paced back and forth across the fire station, where the search-and-rescue base had been set up. The minutes ticked by, feeling like hours, with no news from the teams up on the mountain.
“Hey.”
Her head sprang up as Lucky entered the common area.
“Any word from Deanna?” she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
She took the few short steps to the table and slunk down into the seat. Helplessness was difficult to accept. Nothing she could do would help or change the eventual outcome. Georgia knew this, but knowing it and accepting it were two very different things.
Lucky crouched in front of her. “It’s better than bad news,” he said, his voice rough.
She was sure he wanted nothing more than for Deanna to be back there, safe, and within sight. Georgia did as well—she just wanted Everett there, too.
“Why don’t we play cards while we’re waiting around? This is a fire station. There has to be some around here.”
She nodded, not actually interested. But maybe he needed this. He’d been so comforting and attentive to her, and she hadn’t thought about the fact that he had his own worries at the moment. Her friend really was marrying a great guy.
Forty-five minutes passed while they went through the motions of a few rounds of Crazy Eights. Then Sue Ann returned with supplies from her diner. She set a package of buns on the far end of the table and came to stand beside them, the corners of her mouth turned down.
“I heard some news from the chief as I was headed back in here.”
Georgia sprang up from her seat. “Well, what is it?” she asked with impatience.
“They found the snowmobile Everett was using.”
“That’s good news, then, right?” Georgia asked, looking between Lucky and the older woman.
Sue Ann bit her lip before responding. “A portion of it was sticking out of the snow where the avalanche hit. They dug it out, but there was no sign of Everett.”
Georgia stared at the woman, trying to process her words. She’d heard them, understood their individual meaning, but she couldn’t put the pieces together to figure out what Sue Ann was saying. It was almost as if she were outside herself.
“Oh, honey.” Sue Ann wrapped her arms around her with tears in her eyes.
“What’s the plan now?” Lucky asked behind her.
Still embracing Georgia, Sue Ann answered with, “Two options. Either he was swept away in the avalanche and is buried out there somewhere.”
Dead. What Sue Ann hadn’t added on to that sentence was that he’d be dead if that were the case.
“Or he avoided the avalanche and is still out there. They’re going to continue their search until it gets dark in case it’s the latter.”
Georgia pulled away. “So, they’re still looking for him?”
Sue Ann nodded.
“Good. Good… They’ll find him, then. They’re going to find them all, and then everything will be okay.” Her hands began shaking.
Sue Ann led her over to the couch the firefighters used to watch TV. “Lucky, can you grab Georgia a blanket, please?” she asked once she was seated.
Sometime later—it might have been a minute, or it might have been an hour—someone threw a blanket around her shoulders. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she realized she was in shock. She sat there, numb and unspeaking, hearing the voices around her from time to time but not understanding what they were saying.
Eventually, her lids grew heavy, and though she fought to keep them open fatigue won out. She leaned over to lie on the couch determined to close her eyes for only a brief moment. The last thing she thought before sleep claimed her was that Lucky was right—sometimes, all you had was hope. She wasn’t going to give up on Everett. Not yet.