“I’m going down,” he said, gripping the rope with both hands.
“Maybe you should wait for the rest of the team,” Artie Meyers suggested.
Quinn and Artie were the first to arrive. Not a surprise since it was the middle of the day when most Snoquamish County Search and Rescue volunteers were at work. More would be coming soon, but as one of the first two at the scene, Quinn took the field command position. That’s about as far as normal protocol would matter to Quinn today. He wouldn’t get bogged down by procedure, not with Billie’s life at stake.
“I’ll radio when I get to her.” Quinn nodded at the middle-age man and started his descent.
Quinn had to pretend this was a routine rescue, that Billie wasn’t lying broken and bleeding on the plateau below. He had to act as if the injured party wasn’t the woman he’d rescued over a year ago and taken into his life to help her get back on her feet.
The only woman who’d touched a spot inside of Quinn that he thought had been destroyed by a brutal childhood, war and loss.
He shifted his boots against the mountainside and steadied his descent, trying to rein in his panic. He needed to get control of his thoughts, needed to think of Billie as a random, injured hiker.
The text he’d received half an hour ago flashed across his mind: Female victim, thirties, fell while hiking. He hadn’t been sure he’d be able to leave his business meeting to join the team.
Then Aiden, Quinn’s friend and Billie’s boss, sent another text: the victim was Billie.
Billie knew better than to take off into the mountains without hiking buddies. The rule was at least three in a group so that if someone was injured, one hiker could stay with the immobilized party while the third person went for help.
Billie was smart and sensible, yet she’d fallen off a trail close to where she and her husband had been stranded for days, and her husband had sustained a blow to the head from a fall that ultimately took his life.
Was this some kind of penance? Return to the scene where she’d been unable to save her husband in order to drive home her personal failure?
The rope slipped between his gloved fingers and he tightened his grip. He had to focus on helping the victim and stop analyzing his friend’s motivations for coming out here alone.
A friend? Is that what she was? The frantic beating of his heart when he’d read Aiden’s text indicated otherwise. Quinn couldn’t remember driving to the trailhead, or specifics of the conversation he’d had with Aiden. Everything was a blur except the rope between his fingers and the chill seeping through his jacket.
And, of course, the thought of Billie lying on a mountain plateau bruised and broken, and no doubt terrified.
But alive. God, please let her be alive.
Back up, buddy. God doesn’t listen to guys like you, remember?
He must have dropped a good fifty feet before he touched down. Corralling his panic at what he’d see when he examined Billie up close, Quinn took a deep breath and kneeled beside her still body.
“Billie?” he said, brushing copper-streaked dark brown hair off her cheek. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?” The endearment slipped out.
He pulled off his glove with his teeth and pressed his fingers against her neck. He realized he held his breath.
A strong and steady pulse beat against his fingertips. A sigh of relief escaped his lips.
“Thank you,” he whispered, not sure if he was thanking God for watching over her or thanking Billie for her incredible strength.
He cleared his throat and pressed the button on his radio. “The victim’s alive. Send a litter down ASAP, over.”
“Roger that. How many team members will you need to secure her to the litter and lift her up, over?”
“It’s a small area. I can manage it by myself.”
“Roger.”
Quinn took off his pack and pulled out a thermal blanket. He covered Billie, tucking the blanket snugly around her body. Glancing at the sky, he hoped the weather would hold until they got her out of here. They’d strap her securely to the litter and raise her to the trail. Her injuries would determine how they’d get her out of here, either by helo or ambulance.
A moan drew his attention to Billie. She opened her normally colorful eyes—usually rich with hues of amber, green and warm brown—now a dull dark gray.
He forced a smile. “We have to stop meeting like this, Wilhelma.”
“Quinn? What are you doing here?”
She must be in pain if she wasn’t scolding him for calling her by her full name, a name she disliked. “I’m on speed dial for damsels in distress, remember?”
“Yeah, right.” She closed her eyes.
He couldn’t admit the truth: that after Billie got the job at one of Quinn’s properties, Quinn asked his friend and resort manager Aiden McBride to keep Quinn in the loop. In other words, let Quinn know how Billie was doing.
Quinn couldn’t help himself. He’d felt a connection to her, a connection he chose to ignore because he excelled at hurting the people closest to him. He’d already hurt Billie in so many ways, ways she didn’t even know about.
Even though Quinn kept his distance from Billie, he’d appreciated the updates from Aiden: Billie excelled at her job as a restaurant hostess, was making friends in the community and was active in the local church. She had blossomed after leaving Quinn’s life. He was glad, even if some days he missed her so much it physically hurt.
“Injuries?” he asked her.
“Head mostly. I’m okay.” She tried to sit up.
“Lie down. You don’t want me to get in trouble for not following protocol.”
“Fine.” She lowered herself to the ground. “How did you get here so quickly?”
“I was in a business meeting nearby. Aiden texted me after Bree got the alert from your personal locator beacon. She would have been here, but she was stuck up north on business. Sheriff’s office also got a call from another hiker who saw you fall.”
“Another hiker.” She opened her eyes, panicked. “Did he see the guy who attacked me?”
Every muscle in Quinn’s body tensed. “Someone attacked you?”
“He grabbed me and I pulled away and lost my footing. He was wearing a denim jacket and gym shoes and he asked me about Rick, and...and...”
Her breathing sped up and her cheeks flushed. Quinn guessed her blood pressure was in the triple digits.
“Shh.” He placed an open palm against her cheek. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now you’ve got to lie still and relax.”
With a few shallow breaths she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. The feel of her skin against his hand spread warmth up his arm. No other woman had this kind of effect on him. A part of Quinn ached to explore the dynamic further, but he’d never do that to Billie.
She suddenly turned her head, breaking the connection.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Try again.”
She opened her eyes, now tinted with amber and golden hues. He relaxed a little.
“You don’t believe me about the man on the trail.”
“I do believe you, but I’d like to deal with one thing at a time. I know you’re the master multitasker, but I’ve got a guy’s brain, remember?”
He thought