She nodded weakly. “I’ll hold on, Jake. I promise.”
Ten minutes later, a helicopter hovered above, its blades slicing through the icy mountain air with a deafening roar that drowned out the frantic calls of the rescue team inside. Snow whipped around them in a blinding frenzy, stinging Jake’s face and mixing with the sharp scent of pine and exhaust. He stood at the edge of the slope, his heart pounding as he watched the rescue basket lower toward Capri. She lay still, her face pale against the stark white snow, her leg bent at an unnatural angle.
“Eight of the nine missing have been located,” a rescue worker shouted over the din, his voice barely cutting through the thunder of the rotors. Jake nodded, a flicker of relief mixed with the gnawing dread that refused to release its grip. He was thankful, but Capri’s condition still consumed him.
As the basket rose, swaying precariously in the gusts, Jake reached up to steady it, his hands trembling against the metal. He followed the team who were now on the ground to his abandoned snowmobile, then turned to wave down the group now cresting the ridge. His hand signaled he was leaving the vehicle behind, but his mind remained on Capri.
Jake climbed aboard the helicopter, the vibrations coursing through him as the door slammed shut. He reached for her hand, cold and limp in his own, and gripped it tightly as if sheer willpower could hold her together. The sound of the rotors filled the cramped cabin, and the faint, sterile smell of the medical supplies was a stark contrast to the wilderness they were leaving behind.
The rescuers moved swiftly, their voices clipped and efficient as they worked to stabilize Capri in the narrow cabin. An oxygen mask was secured over her face, and a medic adjusted the straps on the splint that now encased her broken leg. Jake shifted out of the way as they worked, his heart hammering with every grim exchange of words between the team.
The helicopter’s rotors thundered in his ears as the aircraft lifted from the ground. When one of the medics paused to check equipment, Jake bent forward, brushing a tender kiss against her forehead. The warmth of her skin, though faint, sent a surge of determination through him.
“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “And I’m not leaving your side. Not now, not ever.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I?—”
“Shh. Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised.
As the helicopter tilted and banked in the direction of Jackson and the hospital, Jake tightened his grip on her hand. The chaos around him faded, leaving only the resolute promise that he would see her through this—no matter what.
8
St. John’s Health in Jackson was a little over an hour from the race site, but for Charlie Grace, the drive felt like a lifetime. The temperatures had dropped in the past couple of hours and now the roads were slick in spots, making the trip even slower. She gripped the wheel of her old ranch truck, her knuckles white, and replayed the afternoon’s events in her mind.
An avalanche. Capri. Buried.
“Faster, Charlie Grace,” Reva urged, her voice tight with worry.
“I’m going as fast as I can. This isn’t a new truck you know,” Charlie Grace snapped, immediately wincing at her own sharp tone. “Sorry, nerves.”
Beside them, Lila was furiously tapping on her phone screen.
“Who are you texting now?” Reva asked, glancing over with a frown.
“Camille,” Lila replied without looking up. “I need to let her know I won’t be home tonight so she won’t worry.”
Reva’s brows shot up. “Camille’s in Thunder Mountain? Isn’t she supposed to be at school?”
Lila’s thumb paused mid-text, knowing her secret was now out. Her expression turned guarded. “That’s...complicated. Let’s just say it’s a story for another day.”
Charlie Grace glanced at Lila, curiosity tugging at her. She opened her mouth to press for details but caught herself. Now wasn’t the time. She jammed her foot on the accelerator and refocused on the road ahead. Capri needed them. Everything else could wait.
The rest of the long, winding drive down the mountain passed in tense silence, the weight of their worry pressing down on them like the low-hanging clouds outside. Charlie Grace anchored her hands on the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles ached, her thoughts racing between the slippery mountain roads and the unknown waiting for them at the hospital.
Reva stared out the window, her hands twisting in her lap, while Lila occasionally glanced at her phone as if willing it to light up with good news. The closer they got to Jackson, the heavier the air in the car seemed to grow.
When the glowing sign for St. John’s Health finally came into view, Charlie Grace let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Almost there,” she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.
Reva straightened, her eyes fixed on the hospital entrance as they pulled into the lot. She pointed. “Hurry.”
Charlie Grace parked as close as she could, barely waiting for the truck to come to a full stop before she opened the door and followed the others to the entrance.
Charlie Grace’s foot tapped impatiently as she waited for the glass entry doors to slide open. When they finally did, she had to sidestep around an elderly man in a wheelchair and the curt nurse pushing him through the front doors. Charlie Grace mumbled, “Excuse me,” and darted inside, close on the heels of her friends.
The main lobby of St. John’s was functional and unassuming, designed for efficiency rather than comfort. The pale beige walls were interrupted by large directories and informational posters about health services, and the faint scent of antiseptic hung in the air. A central reception desk, with its rounded counter and cluttered computer stations, was the hub of activity as staff members directed visitors and answered phones.
Reva hurried forward, stopping in front of a woman with a round face and deep dimples. “Capri Jacobs. They brought her here by helicopter?”
