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“I think your phone is ringing.” It was muffled under all the clothes, but it seemed like the third or fourth time I’d heard the same sound.

He shrugged and ignored it until it happened again. We both made our way out of the water and shared the towel to dry off enough to get dressed again. Once Lucky had his shorts back on, he pulled his phone from the pocket and frowned at it. Suddenly, the phone was shaking in his hand as he tried to dial.

“It’s Bennett,” he said, putting the phone to his ear. “Five missed calls.”

I finished putting my shoes on and moved to help Lucky do the same as he began talking to his father. By the time he got off the call, we were halfway back to the truck Lucky was practically running by then.

“Lucky, what is it?” I asked as I grabbed his arm to keep him from tumbling over a large log.

His voice was shaky as he said, “It’s Xander. He got called in on a search for a missing child early this morning. How the hell didn’t I know that was happening? I could have helped.”

I could tell there was more to the story, so I took Lucky’s hand in mine and led him back to the truck. I unlocked it and opened the passenger door for him. “Did they find the kid?”

Lucky’s hand carded through his damp hair repeatedly. “Yes. But he fell into a sinkhole and can’t get out. It’s near some snowmelt runoff and the water is making the whole area even more unstable. Xander rappelled down to the little boy but then the tree he was anchored to fell over, cutting off easy access to drop another rope. We’re not sure how injured Xander is from the fall since he’s a stubborn asshole. Bennett’s beside himself with worry. I’ve never heard him that scared, Zach,” Lucky admitted. The near terror in Lucky’s voice was proof that his father wasn’t the only one who was scared. I closed my fingers around Lucky’s.

“He’ll be okay, baby,” I said.

Lucky nodded but it was clearly forced.

When I started the truck and pulled onto the road, Lucky stared out the window. He was tapping his foot incessantly. “I can’t,” he finally said.

“Can’t what?” I asked as Lucky began tapping at his phone before holding it up to his ear.

“Bennett wants me to go home but I can’t just sit there waiting to hear something.” Lucky’s whole body tensed when his call went through. “Chaska, shit, I’m glad I caught you. Can you—” He paused while listening to the man on the other end. “Fuck! Why…? Never mind, congratulations. I can… No, no. I have a pilot. I just need a helicopter with the right equipment.”

He listened some more, pointing with a long index finger when I needed to turn onto a different road. I had no idea where we were heading, but I knew better than to argue with him during an emergency involving his family.

“Chas, he’s a licensed SAR pilot, longline certified, and… shit. Chas, dude, he’s an instructor. He’s my instructor.” The man on the other end continued to speak, presumably to argue with Lucky about why he couldn’t lend us whatever helicopter Lucky was asking about. Lucky cut him off when he whispered, “Chas, it’s my dad. He’s trapped in Foxfire Gulch. We both know how long it will take a SAR team to get here from Denver. Xander doesn’t have that kind of time.” Lucky’s voice cracked with his last sentence. I reached across the console and wrapped my fingers around Lucky’s free hand. He kept his eyes downcast but his hold on my hand bordered on painful.

“Thanks, man, I owe you,” Lucky said softly before disconnecting the call. He barely paused before dialing again.

“Dad, I’m headed to Chaska’s. Zach and I are going to get Xander using one of his helicopters, okay? Just hang tight.”

I could hear Bennett’s shouted tone through the phone, but Lucky cut him off. “Dad, there’s no time to explain but I can do this. You need to trust me.” His voice was suddenly steady and firm. “I’m certified in airborne search and rescue. So is Zach. We’re going to get him back. I promise you.”

He hung up while Bennett was still shouting on the other end, and I wasn’t clear on whether Lucky had ended the call to protect himself from Bennett’s strong emotions or to focus on the task at hand. Either way, I needed him to know I had his back.

“Who’s Chaska and can I trust his bird?”

Lucky turned to me and let out a breath. “Yes. Turn right here and pull into the gravel parking area. Chas is the closest thing to a search and rescue pilot we have. He normally runs short flights to Denver for charter and medical emergencies, but when anyone goes missing, he’ll take the chopper up and search from the air.”

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