Chapter Eight
Tristen followed Sean off the school bus Wednesday morning, his first day back at school. Barry had spent the ride scowling in his seat at the back of the bus. He hadn’t met Tristen’s eyes, which Tristen was taking as a good sign.
“Hey, Tristen,” one of the town kids greeted him.
“Have a nice weekend?” another asked him.
Tristen looked at Sean in confusion.
“You’re top dog now,” Sean said.
“Hi, Tristen,” Matilda said in a singsong voice.
Matilda and Cissy took up positions on either side of him as they walked.
Tristen girded himself for their mocking.
“Coming to the dance?” Cissy asked. She linked her arm with his.
He quickly disentangled himself. He might not be afraid of Barry, but that didn’t mean Tristen had no morals. He wasn’t going to flirt with someone else’s girlfriend.
“We’re coming,” Sean answered for him.
“Maybe the four of us…” Cissy made a circle with her index finger that included them all. “Could go together.”
Sean gave a smile, looking intrigued by the idea as Matilda curled her arm around his. Tristen didn’t have any particular objection to dancing or even more with Cissy. She was as much of a knockout now as she’d been last week.
“What about Barry?” he asked her.
“Barry’s old news.”
“You broke up?”
Cissy made a dismissive wave with her hand. “He knows the score.”
“What is the score?” Tristen asked. He wasn’t going to settle for such a vague explanation of her dating status.
“I gave him back his ring.”
“It’ll be a tight squeeze in my dad’s pickup,” Sean said. “Someone will have to sit on Tristen’s lap.”
Cissy giggled and raised her hand to volunteer, waggling her fingers with their pretty pink manicured tips. “I’ll do it.” She linked arms with Tristen again and leaned against him, the soft side of her breast pressing against his biceps. A raw shot of arousal blasted him in the solar plexus.
“Well, all right, then,” Sean said, clearly all in on the plan.
“You need to wear a seat belt,” Tristen said.
Sean shot him a look of disbelief.
“How about we meet you here?” Tristen asked.
“Are you kidding?” Cissy asked with a pretty pout.
She had kissable lips, Tristen would give her that. At least they looked kissable to him—not that he’d had a lot of experience. He’d once kissed Martha Collins and then Kathy Derringer at a party back in Deadwood. He wasn’t convinced he’d done it right, although they’d seemed happy enough with the experience.
“I don’t want Sean to risk his license,” Tristen said.
At their age, there was zero tolerance for traffic infractions. Sure, the girls were pretty, but they’d be just as pretty in the school gym as they were in the truck.
“We’re not going to get caught,” Matilda said.
“I’ll risk it,” Sean said.
“I promise I’m not too heavy,” Cissy said, sidling closer to Tristen.
Sean’s expression was telling Tristen very clearly not to blow this.
“How about Sean picks you two up, and I’ll meet you here,” Tristen said.
“I can do that,” Sean immediately agreed.
Cissy and Matilda looked confounded by the solution.
“Gotta get to class,” Tristen said, quickly breaking away before they could come up with an argument.
He would have to be made of stone not to like the idea of having Cissy’s soft butt planted in his lap for the ride to the dance. But there was no way he’d risk Sean’s license. If anything went wrong, Tristen wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
He spent ten seconds at his locker and then hustled to chemistry class, sliding up on his stool next to Lucy just as the final bell rang.
“High on yourself much?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“All the girls want to be with you. All the guys want to be you,” Lucy misquoted. “And all it cost was a split lip and a black eye.” She looked annoyed as she scrutinized his face.
Her attitude took him by surprise. “What the heck did I do to you?”
“Nothing,” she said, then stared straight ahead as Miss Knutson walked into the room.
“Seriously,” he whispered to Lucy. “What’s wrong?”
“So, you’re going to the dance with Cissy?”
“No.”
“I saw you with her this morning.”
“So?”
“It’s all over school that she dumped Barry to go after you.”
“Nobody told me that.”
“Mr. Beauregard?” Miss Knutson drawled from the front of the room. “If your conversation is that important, I’m sure you’ll want to share it with the rest of the class.”
Tristen’s mind went blank. He couldn’t for the life of him think of a plausible answer. The seconds ticked by with thirty gazes on him.
“Costumes,” Lucy said. “He thinks he can come to the Halloween dance as a cowboy.”
The class laughed.
Miss Knutson frowned at him. “Save it until after class.”
Tristen nodded.
Miss Knutson turned to the whiteboard.
Tristen moved a pad of paper in front of him and wrote thanks, pushing it Lucy’s way.
You’re not welcome, Lucy wrote back.
Why do you care? he wrote.
Cissy is a user.
She’s a looker.
I don’t think she takes money for sex.
Tristen bit down on a laugh. He slanted a glance Lucy’s way and saw her grin.
He tore the paper from the pad, wadded it up, and stuffed it in his pocket.
You’re a mean girl, he wrote on a new sheet.
Me?! Try her.
Miss Knutson’s voice broke in. “You have thirty minutes to complete the experiment.”
“Cissy put glue in my hair in ninth grade,” Lucy told Tristen beneath the background noise as the class opened their textbooks and began gathering equipment.
“What did you do to her?”
“Put a bullfrog in her locker. I hope you read the chapter.”
“A bullfrog?”
“When she opened the door, it hopped right into her face.”
“No wonder she was upset.”
“Could’ve used a snake.”
“That’s your rationale?” Privately, Tristen had to admire a girl who was willing to handle a snake.
“She told everyone I wore a padded bra.”
“Did you?”
Lucy scowled at him.
Tristen quickly held up his palms and leaned backward. “Sorry. None of my business.”
“None of anybody’s business.”
Tristen quickly diverted his attention to the experiment. “We need three five-hundred-milliliter beakers.”
“Now I feel like I have to explain,” Lucy said.
“You don’t have to explain.”
“It wasn’t a padded bra.”
“Lucy, seriously. Don’t tell me anything.”
“I made a joke, okay?”
Tristen slid off his stool, intending to go for equipment. “We need a hot plate and the beaker stand.”
“I said my only hope was a padded bra.” She glanced down at her chest.
He couldn’t help himself. He followed her gaze, noticing she had lovely small breasts, pert and rounded.
“Tristen?” Miss Knutson’s voice was sharp.
His stomach bottomed out, and he ripped his gaze from Lucy’s chest, terrified he was about to be expelled for sexual harassment. He couldn’t breathe. He forced himself to look at Miss Knutson.
She pointed to her watch. “Twenty-five minutes left. Let’s get a move on.”
*
Wyatt’s 185 lifted off from the Denver airport and they banked north through a cloud-dotted sky toward Montana. While Wyatt made the required radio calls, Eli shrugged out of his jacket, tucking it in the back seat behind them. The airplane heater was pumping efficiently, and the engine hummed in time with the prop pitch.
The trip hadn’t been a monumental success. But it hadn’t been a failure, either. They’d found a couple of bulls they liked and had learned about a few more they wanted to check out.
Eli had talked to Chase this morning, and he’d learned that Maddy was doing extraordinarily well. Her doctor now thought the pains likely had nothing to do with her pregnancy.
As the plane headed north, skimming over the mountain vistas, Eli’s thoughts turned to Piper. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d been acting around her lately. It had occurred to him more than once in the past few days that he might be losing his grip on reality.
He shouldn’t be jealous of Lucas. There was no evidence that Lucas and Piper still had feelings for each other. But for some reason, Eli couldn’t shake the memory of their past together.
And he knew it was preposterous to think Chase would touch Piper. But when he’d seen the two of them in Chase’s bedroom, reasonable thought had had been replaced by a fog of jealousy. Eli couldn’t stand the thought of Piper with another man, any other man.
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt asked him through the intercom.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You look like you’re about to take a swing at somebody.”
“There’s nobody here.” Eli told himself to quit winding himself up over nothing. He uncurled his fists and lowered his shoulders. “I’m not likely to cold-cock my pilot.”
Wyatt smiled at that.
“What did Amelia say?” Eli asked, looking for a change of subject to distract himself.
Amelia had called Wyatt while they were loading into the airplane, and the two of them had had a long conversation.
During those few days he’d stayed in Granite Vale, Eli had come to like the quirky woman. Wyatt seemed in equal parts amused and exasperated by his landlord. That she entertained him was obvious. But he was obviously more grounded than her, and they frequently debated her grandiose plans for her old house.
“She’s decided to tear down a wall and expand the master bedroom,” Wyatt said, fiddling with the controls on the airplane.
“Which wall?” Eli had had a tour of the mansion while he was there and he brought up a picture in his mind.
“The one between her bedroom and mine. She wants me to move to the bedroom at the front. It’s smaller, but it is handy to the staircase.”
Eli could see how Amelia’s plan would work. “A big master bedroom is a good selling feature.”
“That’s what she said. She’s adding a bathroom too, with a big soaker tub and a walk-in shower.”
Eli had looked through dozens of house plans while they made plans for the ranch. He knew standards had changed for master suites in the years since Amelia’s old house had been built.
It was probably a good idea. But Amelia wasn’t the most skilled carpenter in the world.
“That sounds pretty ambitious,” Eli said.
“Ambitious is her middle name.” Wyatt sounded skeptical about the latest idea, but there was something underneath that tone, something indulgent, almost tender.
It made Eli curious. “What do you think of Amelia?”
“In what way?”
“You spend a lot of time with her. She’s very pretty. You must have thought about—”
“Don’t you start sounding like Maddy.”
“It’s just a question.”
“You’ve met Amelia.”
“Fair enough.” Eli would be the first to admit Amelia mostly seemed half a bubble off.
“She’s great, but she’s certifiable.”
Eli couldn’t help but laugh at the description.
A few snowflakes hit the windshield as they turned north.
“Let’s talk about Piper,” Wyatt said.
Eli sobered. “Let’s not.”
“You started it.”
“And I’m ending it now.”
“How do you feel about Piper? She’s very pretty.”
“Stop,” Eli said.
Wyatt chuckled. “Not so much fun having your family plan your love life, is it?”
“Piper’s not my love life.” As Eli said the words, an image of Piper naked in his arms came up in his mind. It planted itself there.
The engine coughed, and Wyatt made a few more adjustments.
They were silent for a few minutes. Eli was relieved that Wyatt didn’t resume the conversation about Piper.
The engine coughed again, and Wyatt pushed forward on the stick, changing the pitch of the prop.
At nearly seven thousand feet, they were following a jagged valley northward. Through the scattered snow, Eli could see a river below them rushing between the rocks and the evergreen trees.
At they descended, Wyatt’s silence began to get unnerving. His expression was neutral. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
“Everything okay?” Eli asked.
“We’re decreasing altitude,” Wyatt said.
“Why?” Eli asked, checking out the high mountains that were now on both sides of them.
The engine coughed and sputtered, this time sounding like it was struggling.
“Is something wrong with the engine?” Worry ticked into Eli’s brain.
“We might have picked up some moisture in the fuel lines.” Wyatt didn’t elaborate.
“Are you going to tell me what that means?”
“It’s freezing now, icing the fuel line. It should be warmer lower down. That’s why we’re descending—to thaw out the ice.” Wyatt sounded calm.
Eli had no idea what to make of the situation. “Is this normal?”
“It’s not unusual. It’s not desirable.”
“No kidding.” Eli wanted more information. But he recognized that Wyatt had gone from brother mode to professional pilot mode.
The issue might be minor. It might be perfectly ordinary and about to be solved. But Eli didn’t want to disturb Wyatt’s train of thought.
The snowfall was growing thicker, and the visibility closed in around them.
Wyatt reached for the tablet on a bracket between them. He flipped off the intercom and made a radio call. Then he switched channels and called again.
The engine lurched then went completely silent. The prop stopped turning.
Wyatt abandoned the radio and put both hands on the stick.
Adrenaline rushed through Eli, and his heart rate switched to deep thuds against his ribcage. He was afraid to ask any more questions.
Wyatt tapped the tablet, glanced out the windows, fiddled with the controls, and pushed the stick further forward.
“Uh…” Eli finally said, not really knowing what to ask, but needing some kind of information. He didn’t want to default to terrified if seriously worried was enough.
“I’m still looking for warmer air,” Wyatt said.
“On the map?” Eli asked.
Wyatt shot him an expression of exasperation. “Below the snow line, I can restart the engine.”
That sounded reassuring. Okay, seriously worried was enough. If Wyatt could restart the engine, they’d be fine. They’d simply continue flying home.
The mountains were still rising up on either side of them, but the snow had gone slushy. Rain couldn’t be too much farther down.
Wyatt adjusted a few controls, drew a breath and turned the key. The starter whined, but the engine didn’t turn over.
He tried again.
Nothing happened.
The snow was mixed with rain now, and the ground was getting uncomfortably close.
Wyatt banked the plane to the right.
Eli found himself hanging on. He had no idea why he thought that would help. If the plane crashed, there was no amount of bracing himself that was going to make a difference.
It hit him full force that he might be about to die. He and his brother might both be about to die.
Wyatt headed down a smaller valley, decreasing altitude with every mile. He turned the key once more.
Though Eli held his breath and prayed, nothing happened.
“Put on your jacket,” Wyatt said.
Eli grabbed his jacket and shimmied into it.
“Are we going to crash?” he forced himself to ask.
If the worst was about to happen, he wanted to say goodbye to his brother. He wanted to tell Wyatt that he loved him, that he admired and respected him, that he was endlessly grateful to have had him for a brother.
His thoughts flashed to the rest of his family, to Lucas and Maddy and Riley. Then they settled on Tristen.
He’d only just met his son. He hadn’t really even gotten to know him. Had he been too hard on him? Had he taught him anything? Had there been time for Eli to have the slightest influence on Tristen’s life?
And Piper, Piper…
“We’re going to land.” Wyatt’s voice interrupted Eli’s thoughts.
“In the trees?” Eli admired Wyatt’s composure, but it didn’t matter whether you called it a crash or a landing, it seemed like they were in a whole lot of trouble.
“I’m looking for a sandbar.”
“Oh, a sandbar.” Eli clamped his jaw shut. He wasn’t angry with Wyatt. He was angry with fate. He didn’t want to die here and never see Piper again.
He didn’t want Tristen to grow up without a father. Maybe Lucas would step in. The idea of the three of them as a family was almost physically painful. But it would be better for Tristen. It would be better for Tristen if Lucas was in his life.
The river was growing closer. The trees were growing closer. Eli was getting a better and better sense of just how fast they were flying and just how hard the landing was going to be.
“Wyatt,” he began. “You know I’ve always—”
“Don’t,” Wyatt ordered. “Let me fly.”
“But—”
“Is your harness tight?” Wyatt reached over to check, like Eli was a kid or something.
“Yes, it’s tight.” Not that Eli thought it would help.
Rain was bouncing off the windshield, and the ground was screaming toward them at a frightening rate.
“Hang on,” Wyatt said.
Eli hung on. His eyes went wide as he took in the frightening sight of the rocks and the rushing water, and the blanket of spiky evergreens on either side.
This was going to hurt.
And then suddenly, the trees parted. A narrow sandbar appeared.
Hope surged in Eli as Wyatt lined up on the sandbar.
“Will this work?” Eli asked, desperate for any slim hope they might have.
Wyatt ignored him.
The sandbar rushed up. It wasn’t sand at all, but a strip of rocky ground.
The wheels hit hard. The plane bounced in the air. Then it hit again, jarring Eli’s teeth. All he could do was hold on as the plane bounced and skidded over the rough terrain.
Amazingly, Wyatt was still working the controls as the strip narrowed, the river closing in on one side and the trees closing in on the other. The plane ground against the rocks, metal screeching in Eli’s ears.
But they were slowing down.
Eli could barely believe they were alive.
Then the left wheel hit something big, the plane rocked and spun and crashed against the trees. Metal groaned and glass shattered in a high pitch, raining down around them.
Eli’s head hit the side window, cracking it.
He had to shake the sense back into himself. But the world had gone silent. The movement had stopped.
“I can’t believe we’re—” Eli looked at his brother and froze.
A tree had pierced the windshield and the pilot’s window, and was pressed sideways against Wyatt’s chest. Wyatt was slumped in his seat, blood rushing from his forehead.
Eli grabbed the release on his seat belt, but it was jammed. “Wyatt? Wyatt?” He pulled harder, but the buckle wouldn’t give.
He reached for his belt, unsnapping the case for his pocket-tool, ripping it out and opening a blade.
“Wyatt? Talk to me, man.”
Wyatt’s face was unnaturally pale. Blood was stark against his skin, running over his left eyebrow down his temple and cheek and dripping to his neck.
Eli needed to stop the bleeding.
He sawed his way through his harness, clambered free of it, and got up on his knees in the cramped cockpit.
As he sized up the tree trunk that had his brother pinned, the unmistakable scent of smoke hit his nostrils. He jerked his head around to see tendrils of dark gray creeping out of the engine. He knew the plane was nearly full of fuel.
He forced himself to calm down, to take a breath, to get the panic out of his brain.
Wyatt had kept it together to land the plane. Eli was going to stay cool enough to get his brother out of here.
He unbuckled Wyatt’s seat belt. Thankfully, it opened easily.
He did a quick check for broken bones, but Wyatt’s limbs seemed fine.
Then he pushed on the tree trunk, bending the poplar forward. He managed to make an inch or so of space. But it wasn’t nearly enough.
Wyatt moaned, but he didn’t wake up.
Eli pushed against the tree again, but he knew it was useless. There was no way to make enough space to free Wyatt.
Eli needed to buy himself some time. He reached into the back of the plane for the fire extinguisher. Then he shoved open his door and climbed out into the rain. He hoped the rain would help dampen the fire, but he knew water wouldn’t help with a fuel or electrical fire.
There were flames flickering out of the engine now, and he unloaded the fire extinguisher into them. They petered out, and he moved quickly to Wyatt’s door.
He grabbed the tree and pulled with all his might. It moved, but still not enough.
The flames reignited in the engine, and he could smell the gas. It was trickling out of the tank and pooling around his feet.
Eli swore into the air and pulled harder. The tree cut into his hands, but he barely felt the sting. He had to get Wyatt free.
The flames curled higher, and black smoke billowed around him. It coated his lungs while the heat from the fire got stronger and stronger.
He found himself glad Wyatt was unconscious. If the worst happened, and they both burned alive, at least Wyatt would be oblivious.
They weren’t going to burn.
Eli wasn’t going to let that happen.
With a final burst of desperation, he planted his back against the plane, braced his feet on the rocks and shoved hard. Using the power of his thighs, he moved the plane about a foot.
He tried again, grunting with the effort.
This time it moved farther, backing the tree out the window.
Wyatt moaned again.
“Hang in there,” Eli told him, giving one final shove.
The heat was growing unbearable, and Eli knew the fuel was going to ignite any second.
He wrenched open the door, dragged his brother through the opening, threw Wyatt over his shoulder, and rushed across the uneven ground, struggling to keep his footing.
He spun behind a couple of trees, just as the fuel tanks blew.
He felt a blast of heat then the world went completely silent. Shrapnel rained around them, and he covered Wyatt as best he could.
They were alive.
For the first few minutes, that was Eli’s only thought.
Then the smoke started to clear. He felt the rain again. He could hear the rush of the river, and he turned to look at the burning airplane.
Eli took stock.
Okay, they were alive. But they were wet. It was cold and getting colder. And they were stranded in the mountains in a gathering storm.
*
Piper told herself she wasn’t missing Eli.
How could you miss someone who was barely even a part of your life?
He’d only been gone three days this time. And they sure hadn’t been close before he left. She tiptoed around him all the time now, worried anything she said or did might increase the tension between them.
Still, she was waiting for him to come home. Something seemed incomplete while he was away. She’d been finding little things to do since he left, busy work that was mindless since her ability to concentrate seemed to be gone.
Today, she’d chosen the dining room table. She’d finished rubbing polish into it, buffing it to a deep shine. Then she set out some decorative placemats and moved a fall flower arrangement from the sideboard to the center of the table. Now she was lining up the chairs in formation around the table.
She should bundle up and take a walk next. It was cold out there, a wind whistling down the valley. But maybe the fresh air would zap her brain back into submission, keep her from remembering Eli’s smile, his laugh, his lovemaking.
As her mind wandered into dangerous territory, she drowned it out with a silent, primal scream.
She left the dining chairs and headed for the mud room to get her boots and jacket. She was definitely getting out of here.
Chase was in the kitchen. That was a surprise in the middle of the day. He was on his cell phone while Maddy stood watching him talk.
Piper caught a glimpse of Maddy’s face, pale and looking frightened. She stopped short then moved quickly to Maddy’s side. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
“What can we do?” Chase asked, his tone firm and clipped.
Piper touched Maddy’s shoulder and whispered. “What?”
“It’s the plane,” Maddy said, a quaver in her voice. She gripped the breakfast table to support herself.
“What plane?” Piper asked.
Chase ended the call. “They were somewhere over the park,” he said to Maddy. His own voice had gone bleak.
“Who? What?” Piper looked to Chase then back to Maddy.
“Wyatt’s emergency locator beacon went off,” she said.
Piper stomach sank. When she tried to talk, it came out as a whisper. “Does that mean…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“We don’t know what it means,” Chase said. He swallowed and squared his shoulders.
“They crashed,” Maddy said.
“All we know is that Wyatt hit the beacon.”
Piper knew there was only one reason to hit the emergency locator beacon. Their plane had been going down. The park—Chase had just said they were in the park. That meant they’d gone down in the middle of some very rugged mountains.
A sob escaped, and she quickly covered her mouth with her palm.
“Mom?” Tristen walked through the door from school. His gaze swung as he took in the three adults. “What happened?”
“Nothing is confirmed,” Chase said to Maddy. He moved to her and drew her into his arms.
“Mom?” Tristen asked again.
“Wyatt set off the emergency locator beacon in his plane,” Piper answered.
Tristen stared at her in silence.
“We don’t know what it means,” Piper parroted Chase’s words, even though she had the most horrible sinking feeling.
They all knew what had happened. They just wanted to pretend it hadn’t. They had to pretend it hadn’t, because the alternative was to give in to the horror.
“Eli was with him,” Tristen said.
It wasn’t a question, but Piper answered it anyway. “Yes.”
“Do they have a radio?” Tristen dropped his pack onto a chair. “Can we call their cells?”
“I just talked to Search and Rescue,” Chase said to all of them. “They can’t raise them on the radio. There’s no way a cell phone would work out there.”
“So what do we do?” Tristen asked.
Piper had to sit down. Her legs wouldn’t support her. She looked at the chairs around the breakfast nook, but they seemed too far away.
She reached behind herself and gripped the counter, sinking down to sit on the floor.
“Mom.” Tristen’s voice seemed to come from a long way away.
“Mom,” he repeated. And then he was crouching down beside her.
She tried to blink him into focus and realized there were tears in her eyes.
“Don’t you dare give up on him,” Tristen said. “He’s okay. I know he’s okay.”
She forced herself to nod. How could she tell Tristen that odds were his father was dead? Eli was dead. So was Wyatt.
Maddy had just lost two brothers.
Piper told herself to get the heck up off the floor. Tristen had probably just lost his father, and Maddy had lost two of her four brothers. Piper didn’t have the right to collapse in a puddle of grief. Other people were grieving too. Other people had lost more than she had.
Tristen took her arm, and Piper willed the strength back into her legs. Even in the thick of her emotions, she couldn’t help noticing how much bigger her son had become, how strong and sturdy.
“They’re looking for them?” she asked Chase as she rose, digging deep for a trace of optimism.
“Search and Rescue has a chopper ready and waiting,” Chase said.
“What are they waiting for?”
“A break in the weather.”
“How accurate is the beacon?” Maddy asked. “Do they know exactly where they are?”
“They can pinpoint their location,” Chase said.
Piper couldn’t help picturing a crumpled airplane on the side of a mountain. Would pinpointing and hurrying even help? Would they only find bodies when they got there?
She told herself to stop being morbid, but she couldn’t seem to help it.
“Mom, stop thinking the worst,” Tristen said, censure in his tone.
Piper closed her eyes and struggled for positive thoughts. Instead, she pictured Eli’s funeral, flowers, a gravestone, a polished casket… Her gaze was drawn to her hands. She could smell the polish on them.
She gave a whimper of pain. How would she live with herself if he was gone? She’d kept his son from him. How could she have done that? She’d been cruel to make Eli miss raising Tristen.
“Mom.” Tristen’s tone was sharp. It penetrated her dark thoughts.
She had to keep them to herself. She had to pretend there was hope.
“They’re coordinating the search out of Bozeman,” Chase said.
“Dad’s alive,” Tristen said to her. “I can tell he’s alive.”
Piper managed a small smile. She wouldn’t let herself upset Tristen. She wouldn’t voice her fears to anyone. But she knew deep down that blind hope wasn’t going to change the truth. Eventually, they were all going to find out the truth.
“Can you go get Riley?” Chase asked Tristen.
“Maddy, you and Piper meet me out front. I’ll get a truck.”
They all left the house, and Piper climbed into the back seat of the pickup with Maddy—Riley between them.
She reached across Riley to squeeze Maddy’s hand. Maddy especially needed her right now.
Maddy’s face was pale. Her eyes were red and shiny. And she didn’t seem to realize her hands were trembling.
Piper rubbed Maddy’s shoulder. “Wyatt is an incredible pilot.”
“I know.” Maddy’s voice was trembling too.
“Let’s take this one step at a time.”
Tristen turned in the front seat. “You have to have faith.” His voice was deep and sure. He sounded like an adult. “Eli is strong. He’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. He’ll know what to do.” Tristen nodded to the distant mountains. “They’re waiting for us out there. They’re waiting and we’re coming to get them.”
Piper felt a burst of pride in Tristen. She was moved by the way he talked about Eli. She was grateful for the progress in their relationship. In the next second, she was terrified that it had all come to a sudden and horrifying end.
“Can you try Lucas again?” Chase asked from the driver’s seat.
Piper mentally shook herself once more. “I’ll do it.”
Chase had gotten through to Zane while they were leaving the house, but Lucas hadn’t yet returned his message.
Piper selected Lucas’s number, still rubbing Maddy’s shoulder as she held the phone to her ear.
“Piper?” Lucas answered.
“It’s me,” she said.
“What’s up?”
“I have…” She didn’t know how to do this. She swallowed. “There’s been an accident.”
Lucas’s voice was instantly alert and concerned. “Where are you? Are you all right?”
“It’s not me. It’s Wyatt and Eli. Their plane went down.”
Lucas didn’t respond.
“Over the park,” she told him. “Their beacon’s gone off.”
“Are they all right?” Lucas asked, his voice hollow. “Are my brothers alive?”
Piper’s throat thickened. “We don’t know.”
“Where is everybody?”
“Maddy is here. So is Chase. We’re driving to Bozeman. They’re coordinating the search from there. Chase talked to Zane.”
“I’m on my way,” Lucas said. “Do they need anything? More people? More planes? Money?”
“Search and Rescue is waiting on the weather,” she said.
“You mean they’re not out there already?”
“They have his location, their location. They’ll go in as soon as they can.”
“Tell them…I’m…” Lucas swore. “I’m coming,” Lucas said and signed off.
“He’s mad that more’s not happening,” Maddy said.
“He’s definitely frustrated,” Piper said. “But he’s on his way.”
“He wants to do something,” Chase said. “We all want to do something.”
Piper wanted to do something. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to rail at the heavens for the unfairness of it all.
Eli didn’t deserve this. He was way, way too young to die.
But she gritted her teeth instead. She held her tongue. The last thing Tristen or Maddy or anybody else needed to hear about right now was her overwhelming feeling of dread.