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Trent better come back here and fill me in on how he’s handling the Beryl thing because now I’m starting to get restless.
Where is Cole?Blue’s still missing, and that’s bad enough.
Awhomp-whomp-whompsound cuts through my antsy haze.A helicopter.
I’ve been around the Adventure Bro’s Helicopter Ski Tours operation long enough to know that sound inside out.
I can even guess where the chopper is landing—in the open stretch of dry desert grass, out to the west of the circle of yurts. My eyes lock with Maggie’s. She hears it, too,
Her eyebrows pop up. “Cole?” “I bet.”
But… why?Why would he sneak off while I was napping, and return in a helicopter? I stride for the door with Maggie at my heels. Trent falls into step with us just as we reach the pavilion’s front doors. “Do you know what’s going on?” he asks.
“No clue,” I tell him.
“It has to be Cole piloting that thing,” Trent says.
“Yeah, I bet,” I agree instead, as we all hurry around the side of the pavilion.
A large, red-and-white helicopter hovers over the field of grass, propellers one pink smudge over the top. The grass is flat, undulating like water. The noise is so loud out here, I wish for earplugs.
The chopper descends until the landing skids kiss the earth. When the propellers slow, the crazy-loud noise lessens, so I can hear myself think, finally.
Cole must have borrowed a helicopter from somewhere. Why?I can see him now, in the cockpit. He’s pulling a bulky headset off, fiddling with some levers in front of him. When the cockpit door swings open and I see him appear at the edge, my heart soars.
Seeing a guy give nose kisses to a baby animal early in the morning is dangerous.This?
Could be lethal.
Cole kidded me about fainting at the sight of him yesterday. Maybe that joke wasn’t that far off. I definitely feel lightheaded as I watch him drop down out of the helicopter cockpit in his aviator sunglasses, hair rumpled from his headset. Why is it that it’s so attractive, to see him in pilot-mode? I’ve seen him take off with choppers full of tourists, plenty of times. He and Trent run three or four tours a week, during peak season. But somehow, now that we’ve become closer, it’s different. It’s like I’m looking at my man… and he happens to be capable of directing a massive hunk of metal through actual clouds. He’snotmy man, but I did fall asleep in his arms last night, so I have every right to feel proud of him right now…
Or at least, I think I do.
Then I realize that other retreat participants are out here, too. And Danielle’s among the gathered crowd, in her tie-dyed apron and headscarf, and she’s looking proud and swoony, too.
Maybe it’s because Cole asked her out all those times. She smiles dreamily and turns to whisper something to the woman standing not far off. I can imagine the words:‘He’s from Silver Creek, like me. Actually, he asked me to be his date for a wedding. I might just say yes…A sense of competition spikesthrough me, as needle-sharp as those cactus quills that drilled into my palm yesterday.
When Cole turns around and puts his arms up toward the cockpit, though, my Danielle worries slip away, a puff of smoke carried away in a breeze.
Because he’s reaching for Blue.
My Blue.
No,ourBlue.
Adorable, fury, innocent, bleating Blue, who has apparently survived his adventure in the desert like a champ.
How can I feel catty towards Danielle when I’m busy looking at the sweetest baby goat in the whole world?
Now I’m walking…
Fast.
And that fast, happy walk turns into a run.
When I reach Cole, who has Blue bundled in his arms, I don’t hold back. I wrap my arms around him and Blue both and plant a big, wet, too-excited kiss on Cole’s cheek. At least I forgot to put lipstick on today. The kiss doesn’t leave a messy mark.
“You found him!” I gush, as I bow down to Blue,
