“How are you
doing?”
Kat would have stooped down, picked up a mitten-full of snow and tossed it at the back of the man who asked the question—for the third time in less than twenty minutes—if she weren’t out of breath and ready to drop.
Snow. Good Lord. Everybody told her late spring storms in Montana were not uncommon. Sometimes they left snow on the mountains. But why did it have to be this storm, this mountain, when her child was out in the elements, lost and hurt?
Her toes were numb. Her cheeks felt chafed from the icy breeze hitting her head on. She hadn’t slept a wink all night. But she wasn’t about to give up.
“I’m good thanks,” she said breathlessly.
Justin Oberman stopped and turned around. He didn’t say, “I told you so.” She gave him credit for that.
She put her hands on her waist, thankful she wasn’t carrying a pack the size of a small imported sports car as Flynn’s friend was. “I wasn’t expecting the snow to be so sticky,” she said in her defense.
“It’s a drag. I know. But it’ll be gone in a couple of hours if the sun comes out.”
She looked at the high, thin clouds. “Unless the next storm hits, first.”
“Exactly. That’s why we need to hustle. But from the location Mia gave us, their camp shouldn’t be far ahead.”
Mia and Bob Zabrinski had been in the air at first light, retracing their path to the area where they’d seen the hint of red the night before. That sighting may well have saved her son’s life. She’d never in a million years be able to thank this family for all that they’d done for her. Unless she and Brady went back to Texas—sooner rather than later, thereby removing any reminder of Bob’s possible infidelity. She could do that. Even if it meant leaving Flynn.
Kat hauled in a deep breath of icy oxygen. “I used to do all kinds of outdoor sports before Brady was born. I guess I underestimated how rugged this terrain was going to be.”
“I’m sure Brady did, too.” His tone was matter-of-fact, not accusatory.
“You must think I’m a terrible mom to lose her kid like this.”
“You must think I’m a terrible boss not to notice an underage kid on my job site.”
“He’s tall for his age.”
“Not
that
tall.”
She nodded, conceding the point. “Okay. We’re even.”
He gave a whistle and made the universal carry-on sign to the other four volunteers, who waited a few yards ahead of them. The foursome included Jeff and Kermit from her department’s paramedic group.
She felt so grateful for the concern everyone had shown. The outreach from the town nearly brought her to tears every time she thought about it. Although no one would take credit for the effort, Kat felt certain Sarah Zabrinski was running the show.
Kat’s throat tightened with emotion. The more Kat saw of Sarah in action, the more envious she was of the
legitimate
Zabrinski children. Sarah was the mother Kat used to fantasize about.
When Mom would leave Kat waiting at the curb after soccer practice until some parent or school administrator tracked Mom down—“Oh, dear, was it my day to pick her up?” Mom would cry—, Sarah was probably loading up her kids and half a dozen friends.
Kat craved that closeness so much, she probably over-protected, “hover-mothered” her own child. Even though a part of her knew Brady made impulsive decisions, which were often based on deep thought and research, he didn’t have the maturity to factor in cause and effect. And he sorely lacked the ability to empathize with people he loved—even her.
She knew he was going to be sorry he’d worried her, but only superficially. He’d try to understand, but she doubted he’d truly get it.
She pushed the thought from her head. She loved her son the way he was—challenges and all. Nobody would ever get that, but that was okay, too. She didn’t expect to have a perfect life. She wasn’t looking to fall in love and get married again. She wouldn’t put that kind of pressure and expectation on someone who wasn’t Brady’s biological father. Hell, even the man who could claim that connection didn’t have the empathy and patience Brady needed. How could she expect someone without a genetic horse in the race to give a damn?
You can’t. So stop thinking about Flynn Bensen.
They’d had some fun. She got her three-year sexual fix. Twice. Heck, maybe that meant she was good to go for six more years.
A shout cut into her pathetic ramblings.
“Over here.”
She recognized that voice. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.
“Flynn,” she cried. She stumbled toward the sound and nearly did a header over a rock.
“Whoa.” Justin lunged sideways to halt her fall. “We don’t want any more casualties. Follow in my trail.”
She did as instructed even though every instinct urged her to race toward the two figures slowly shuffling forward. Brady barely looked up. He seemed glued to the side of the big man who had one hand firmly gripping the boy’s shoulder. The lead rescuers reached them several minutes before Justin and Kat got there. The paramedics were on their knees, shoulder-to-shoulder, talking to Brady, checking him over.
Kat’s knees trembled, more from relief than fatigue. She made eye contact with Brady and smiled. Her son burst into tears and Kermit moved aside to make room for Kat. Emotions she couldn’t even catalogue charged through her the second she held her baby’s shaking body.
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” he blubbered, nearly incoherent. “I d…didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I know, Brady. I know. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Her gaze met Flynn’s. “Thanks to Flynn.”
He nodded shortly, but the intensity of emotion in his gaze stopped her heart momentarily. They had a lot to discuss. Later. First, they needed to get Brady home safe and sound.
“It looked to me like he fell or rolled off a ledge about forty feet above where I found him. He was unconscious for ten or so minutes while I was present. I have no idea how long before that. I kept his neck immobile until I could I check his pupils. No abnormal reaction. Swelling and tenderness around his left elbow. Could be a bone chip.”
Flynn answered a boatload of questions—all ones she recognized as standard protocol after a rescue. The paperwork would take hours to complete—later. Much later.
“Can we get moving, please?” Justin said, taking the words out of Kat’s mouth. “Another storm is coming. I’ll let the riders know we’re extracting overland. Who wants to be first?”
First?
To carry her son.
Brady seemed reluctant to go with a stranger, but Flynn leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Brady nodded and looped his arms around Kermit’s neck. The pair made a flawless about-face and started re-tracing their snowy path. Flynn and Justin flanked Kat as if worried about her ability to make it out. She would have protested if she weren’t exhausted and so relieved she wanted to lie down and cry.
Flynn took her hand and squeezed, as if reading her mind. “I didn’t expect to see you, but I’m glad I did. Brady was almost at the end of his rope. He needed a hug from his mom.”
“Everyone tried to talk me out of coming along, but I know my son. He hides his emotions well, but when a meltdown happens, not everyone can handle him.” She looked at Flynn. “How’d he do last night?”
“Good.”
She doubted that was true but didn’t press for details.
One foot in front of the other,
she told herself.
The mantra lulled her into the gait of a mindless drone—until she heard Justin tell Flynn, “The Zabrinskis want a meeting tomorrow at your office.”
Kat’s toe snagged on something buried in the mushy snow and she lunged forward. How Flynn caught her she couldn’t say, but one second she was stumbling out of control and the next she was pressed tight to his chest, her cheek buried against the cold, slick material of his jacket. His strength enveloped her, making her feel safe in a way she hadn’t felt…well, ever.
A small sob escaped her throat.
He patted her back. “Everything’s going to be okay, Kat. You have to trust the process.”
“I…I…can’t.” Nothing good had ever come from trusting others. She’d trusted her stepfather to do the right thing with her mother. She’d trusted doctors and caregivers, only to watch her mother continue to decline. She’d trusted her mother—her biggest mistake of all.
He used one finger to nudge her chin upward so he could look into her eyes. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you or your son.”
As much as she wanted to believe him, she knew it was up to her to take care of Brady. Brady came first. Brady would always come first. What man in his right mind would want a woman with the kind of baggage she brought to the table?
“We’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Flynn motioned to Justin and the two each took a side, creating a virtual sling between them. Pride, she realized, was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She needed their help and was damn glad to take it. The sooner she got back to the zip line, the sooner she could hold her little boy. Nothing else mattered—not even a Zabrinski inquisition.
*
Flynn stood in
the doorway of the hospital room and watched mother and son for a good five minutes before either noticed him. Kat and Brady had both argued with the emergency room doctor who examined Brady and declared the need for twenty-four hours of hospital observation.
Brady sat cross-legged on the bed in flannel Spiderman pajamas. He seemed his
usual
self. At least, he wasn’t the shook-up, frightened kid Flynn found at the base of the cliff.
Kat had pulled up the lone visitor chair so she could rest her chin on her upturned palm while Brady moved a chess piece. She looked beautiful, of course, but exhausted. Was Flynn the only one who saw the fresh lines of worry and stress around her eyes?
“Hey,” Brady said. “It’s Flynn.”
Flynn walked in, the gift he’d bought behind his back. “It’s me. I hear they’re springing you today. Are you that difficult a patient?”
“No. My brain isn’t bleeding. I can go home, now.”
He started to slide off the bed until Kat stopped him. “Not yet, soldier. Not till your release papers come.”
“Mom.” He used the three-syllable version of the word.
Kat looked at Flynn. “Still one test result to come back, but he’s fine.” She swallowed. “Thanks to you.”
Flynn produced the wrapped present from behind his back and tapped it to his forehead. “Hey, I can’t play hero if I don’t have people falling off mountainsides from time to time.”
“Is that for me?” Brady asked.
Flynn nodded. “I heard you’re supposed to take it easy for a few days. I thought this might come in handy.”
He walked closer and handed Brady the package.
Hunks of wrapping paper flew in every direction. A healthy Brady didn’t lack for exuberance.
“Cool,” Brady said.
The DVD was a recent release that came highly recommended by the store clerk. “Can I start it, Mom? Please? You know how long it takes to get things done around here.”
Kat sighed and ran her hand across her face. “Okay.”
Brady settled back against the pillows and balanced Kat’s laptop across his knees. A handy-dandy pair of ear buds provided Kat and Flynn a bit of privacy. She’d texted him earlier asking to meet.
“Should I try to round up another chair?” he asked.
“No. You take this one. I’ll sit on the window ledge. I spent part of the night there staring at the rain on the window, imagining what it would have been like for Brady on the mountain if you hadn’t found him.”
“But I did.”
“And you kept him safe. Justin talked about how you felt after the woman you tried to rescue died. He was worried that something might have happened to Brady and you’d be tortured by indecision. Stay put or walk out at night.”
Justin had confessed as much yesterday when they reached the deployment area. They hadn’t talked for long because Flynn needed a hot shower and a meal before filing his incident report. He’d been brutally honest—except for the part about how and when he and Kat realized Brady was missing. He still felt bad about that, and according to Justin, Kat was beating herself up about being a bad mother.
“I brought you a present, too.”
“Me? Why?”
He handed her the small, wrapped box. He’d spotted it that morning when he walked into the kitchen for his coffee. One of the jewelry ladies had been working on it and brought it out of the area where they did most of the work to share with the others. He didn’t recognize the type of stone but he’d immediately fallen in love with the design—a small heart nestled in the center of a larger heart, cradling the pretty bluish purple stone.
“It’s Montana sapphire,” he said as she pulled out the ring to look at it.
“It’s gorgeous. Is it Bailey’s work?”
“One of her designers. She just finished it this morning. It reminded me of you and Brady.”
“It’s fabulous, but I shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it. I’m a terrible mother.” The last came out with a small cry.
He shot to her side. “No. You’re not. You know that’s the truth. Not a parent alive can watch their child every minute of every day. Brady and I had a talk about choices and consequences. He made a choice and paid for it dearly.”