Definitely relentless, she thought.
“That’s settled then,” he said with quiet satisfaction. “We’re engaged.”
NOW THAT THEY had been spotted, they let two of the fires go out and spent the night lying close by the one remaining, talking, occasionally dozing. The space blanket and the pieces of foam kept them off the cold ground, and the usual layers of clothing kept them, if not warm, at least not freezing. After they had rested some and slept a little, he made love to her again. This time was slow, leisurely; after he entered her it was almost as if they both dozed again, but he would rouse enough every few minutes to gently move back and forth. Bailey was acutely aware that he hadn’t put on a condom, and the bareness of his penis inside her was one of the most exquisite sensations she’d ever felt.
She came twice from that slow, rocking motion, and her second climax triggered his own. He gripped her hips and locked their bodies so tightly together not even a whisper could have slipped between them, and a muffled groan came from his throat as he shuddered between her legs.
After cleaning up and restoring their clothes to order, they slept some more. When dawn arrived they were awake, and waiting for the rescue team. They restored the area as much as possible, got all their makeshift gear packed up, then sat by the fire with the space blanket wrapped around them. Bailey was light-headed from hunger, and she felt strangely fragile, as if, now that the battle for survival was won, all her strength had left her. Sitting beside Cam was about the limit of her remaining capability.
They heard the helicopter just after seven, and watched it land on a more accessible patch of ground about a quarter of a mile below them. As the rescue team exited the chopper she murmured, “They’d better have food with them.”
“Or what?” he teased. “You’ll send them back?”
She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. He looked as hollow-eyed as she felt; yesterday had depleted them, and without food neither of them had recovered.
The ordeal was almost over. In a few hours they would be clean, warm, and fed. The real world was coming at them fast, embodied in the four-man team of helmeted mountaineers who were steadily climbing toward them, moving in a well-rehearsed symphony of ropes and pulleys and God only knew what else.
“You folks get lost?” the team leader asked when the four men reached them. He looked to be in his thirties, with the weathered look of someone who spent his life outdoors. He studied their drawn, battered faces, the long line of dark stitches across Cam’s forehead, and quietly told one of his men to do a physical assessment.
“The hiking trails aren’t open until next month. We didn’t know anyone was missing, so it was a big surprise when they spotted your fire yesterday.”
“Not lost,” said Cam, getting to his feet and tucking the space blanket around Bailey. “Our plane crashed up there”—he pointed toward the summit—“six days ago.”
“Six days!” The leader gave a low whistle. “I know there was a search-and-recovery mission for a small plane that went missing over near Walla Walla.”
“That would probably be us,” said Cam. “I’m Cameron Justice, the pilot. This is Bailey Wingate.”
“Yep,” said one of the other guys. “Those are the names, all right. How did you get this far?”
“On a wing and a prayer,” said Cam. “Literally.”
Bailey looked at the rescuer who was crouched beside her, taking her pulse and shining a light into her eyes. “I hope you have some food with you.”
“Not with us, no ma’am, but we’ll get you fed as soon as we get you back to headquarters.”
As it turned out, he lied. After they were lowered down the side of the mountain and everyone was loaded onto the helicopter, the decision was made that they needed medical care. The pilot radioed ahead, and then they were taken to the nearest hospital, a two-story facility in a small Idaho town.
The ER nurses, bless them, expertly assessed their most urgent need and rounded up food and coffee before they were even seen by a doctor. To Bailey’s surprise she couldn’t eat much, just a few spoonfuls of soup, along with a couple of saltines, that the nurse brought to her. The soup was canned soup, heated in a microwave, and it tasted like ambrosia; she simply couldn’t eat it all. Cam made a better showing than she did, wolfing down an entire bowl of soup and a cup of coffee.
After a quick exam, the doctor said, “Well, you’re basically sound. You need to eat and sleep, in that order. You’re lucky; your arm is healing well. By the way, when did you have your last tetanus shot?”
Bailey stared blankly at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a tetanus shot.”
He smiled. “You have now.”
After getting the injection, a nurse led her to the nurse’s lounge and the attached locker facility, complete with showers. Bailey stood under the hot water for so long her skin began to shrivel, but when she emerged she was squeaky clean from head to toe. The nurse gave her a set of clean green surgical scrubs to wear, and a pair of socks, over which she slipped a pair of surgical booties. She so didn’t want to put on her hiking boots again; she’d been wearing those things for six days, and her feet were as tired as the rest of her.
Cam wasn’t so lucky. He got stuck with an IV drip and a brain CT scan. Bailey sat with him while waiting for the IV bag to empty, which took a couple of hours. Only then was he allowed to shower and shave, his head was bandaged again, and he, too, was given a set of clean scrubs.