One thing at a time, Cameron thought, and climbed on.
It was after dark when Cameron caught a ride with a van load of searchers on their way back to Denver. The ride down from the mountain staging area was even more treacherous at night, but about halfway down he got a cell signal and was finally able to send Sarah a text. Ever conscious of losing the signal, he kept details brief.
Laura alive. En route to University of Colorado Hospital in Aurora.
Her answer to him was just as abbreviated.
On my way. Between planes at airport. Thank you forever for giving Laura back to me.
He wouldn’t begin to take credit, but he understood what she meant.
When they finally saw the lights of Denver in the distance, everyone breathed a little easier. By the time the van reached the community center where the initial search and rescue had been set up, it was almost eight o’clock.
Cameron unloaded his gear with the others and headed into the community center to change back into street clothes and get the rest of his belongings.
He came out a short while later, his stride long and hurried as he crossed the parking lot. It felt like snow, but so far the overcast sky was holding whatever it carried. He tossed his bags in the trunk of his rental, entered the hospital address into the car’s GPS and took off through the city.
His belly growled as he pulled up at a stoplight, a reminder that he hadn’t eaten since the sweet roll this morning. After all that had happened today, that felt like a lifetime ago.
When the light turned green he accelerated through the intersection, then swung into the first fast-food drive-through he came to and ordered. He ate as he drove, washing his meal down with a cold Pepsi and wishing he’d asked for coffee instead. But he had to admit it was a smart move, because he felt less shaky, which was good. And once he got there, he wasn’t leaving Laura’s side.
Still, the closer he got to the hospital, the more anxious he became. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, a sense of finality was setting in. He’d done all he could have done by helping find her, and whatever was happening now was out of his hands. He had to trust she hadn’t survived all that horror for nothing.
As he headed toward the entrance, he felt a raindrop, then another, but before he got into the building it had turned into snow. He lengthened his stride.
Learning she was in Intensive Care wasn’t surprising, but it amped up his concern. Visiting hours in ICU were on the hour, every hour, and brief. He glanced at his watch and headed for the elevator. It was almost nine.
* * *
Laura moaned as pain pulled her out of her semiconscious state. Something was beeping. The plane! The alarm! The plane was going down.
I don’t want to die.
Tears rolled out from beneath her eyelids as she waited for impact. Instead, she heard the muffled sound of soft voices, a faint cry of pain and then a woman’s soft, reassuring voice. But it wasn’t until she homed in on the sharp click of footsteps coming toward her that she tried to open her eyes, because she recognized the stride.
Cameron.
Something brushed against the side of her cheek, followed by the warmth of a breath and the sweet sound of a familiar voice near her ear.
“Hey, baby,” Cameron said softly, and leaned over the bed just long enough to kiss her forehead and slip his hand in hers.
It is Cameron! He found me.
“You’re in a hospital, honey. Your plane crashed. Do you remember?”
Images flashed behind her eyelids. The pilot’s face obliterated. Marcy’s eyes frozen open in death. Dragging Dan’s body across the door to keep it closed. Her fingers curled around his hand, his presence anchoring her to reality. “They died.” The tone of her voice reflected her horror. His grip tightened.
“I know,” he said softly.
Panic shifted within her. It was hard to accept she’d been saved.
“I prayed for you to find me,” she whispered, then licked her lower lip where it had cracked from the cold.
“And we did. Lots of people were looking for you,” he said.
She finally managed to open her eyes. Cameron’s face was blurry, as if it was melting. It took her a few moments to realize she was still crying.
“I hurt.”
“I know, darlin’, with good reason. You have a concussion, three broken ribs, a buttload of stitches on your leg and you’re fighting pneumonia.”
“Am I dying?” she asked, then watched his eyes darken and a frown spread across his forehead as he leaned closer.
“No. You’re getting well and coming back to D.C. with me to live happily ever after.”
Breath caught in the back of her throat.
“With you?”
He ran a finger lightly down the side of her cheek.
“I had planned to say all this on Valentine’s Day, which happens to be next week, but sometimes plans change. I love you, Laura, more than I thought it was possible to love anyone, and almost losing you just made me more certain of that fact. You have to hang in there, baby.”
The room was spinning, or maybe it was all in Laura’s head. She grabbed hold of his wrist, trying to stop the motion so she could focus on his voice, but things were turning faster and faster, sucking her down with them.
“I’m going to pass out,” she mumbled, and proceeded to do exactly that.
“Sir, visiting hours are over,” a nurse said as she approached the bed.
Cameron lifted Laura’s hand to his lips.
“Be strong and get well, sweetheart. I’ll be back,” he promised, and reluctantly walked away.
* * *
Time dragged for Cameron as he waited between visits. Exhaustion finally caught up with him as the waiting room cleared out. The quiet washed over him as he changed his chair for the sofa. The soft leather pillowed his body when he turned and stretched out. It was just for a few minutes, he told himself, grateful to be off his feet. But at six feet three inches tall, his long legs had nowhere to go except over the arm of the sofa. He fell asleep with one arm flung over his eyes to keep out the light. He’d set the alarm on his watch, though, and when it went off, his feet hit the floor before his eyes were fully open. He turned and staggered to the bathroom.
He was still wearing jeans, which had been part of his traveling clothes, but after the first hour in the waiting room he had made a trip out to his car for a fleece jacket to pull over his shirt. The waiting room, like the hospital, bordered on cold, and he was glad for the added layer. The thought of coffee was enticing, but there was no time. He wanted to see Laura again.
There were others in line with him, waiting for the doors to the ICU to open. Even though they all shared the experience of having loved ones with critical health issues, no one seemed inclined to talk, looking instead at the floors or the walls, anywhere but at each other.
Cameron was worried. The last time he’d seen her they had put her on oxygen, and she’d slept all the way through his visit. He knew she needed rest to heal, but seeing her motionless and so vulnerable scared him. He needed to reconnect, to hear her voice and see recognition in her eyes, to know she wasn’t getting worse.
There was a nurse beside her bed when he walked up.
“Everything