Read Online Expect the Sunrise by Susan May Warren - Free Book Online

faced him, surprise in her eyes. “Okay, lay these out in piles so we can assess what we have.”
    Precisely what he’d have done. Or maybe he’d already be leading them in a hike out of these mountains, heading south. With the ELT tucked under his arm. They came with batteries and a remote transmitter.
    Except for the basic desire to sleep in a warm bed, exactly what did he have to hurry home to? His brother’s grave? Awaking each morning to the choking weight of failure? Maybe he should be joining Ishbane with chills and feelings of doom. He should step aside and let Ms. Pilot Extraordinaire do her thing. Especially if he wasn’t planning on being an FBI agent anymore anyway. No need for heroics.
    She added a flashlight and four chemical light sticks to the pile, then a tarp, two space blankets, a spiral of climbing rope, a bag of climbing paraphernalia, two ponchos, a pair of gloves, and sunscreen.
    “You seem prepared,” Mac commented.
    She said nothing and added a thermal cap and two pairs of wool socks and a couple packets of chemical hand warmers.
    “Were you planning on crashing?”
    She stopped, and he instinctively braced himself. “Yeah, absolutely because I think it is oh so fun to be out here, my friend seriously injured, the responsibility of six people on my shoulders. I do it for kicks—take passengers out with the promise to get them to their destination safely, and then I purposely crash the plane. Actually I’m writing a book on psychological responses to stress. Consider yourself a test subject.”
    “Sorry … I was joking.”
    “Not funny. We’re in a world of trouble here, Mr. McRae, and my one thought is making sure no one dies. So, please, help or get out of the way.”
    “You’re not in the least interested in anyone else’s ideas? On what we should do to get out of here?”
    She actually frowned at him, an expression of confusion that he would have thought funny if she wasn’t so serious. “Yeah, sure. This is a committee. What do you think we should do, McRae? Fish? Hike? Maybe sing camp songs?”
    He held up his hands. “Sorry. I just thought maybe we could talk about what we need to do.”
    “We will—after we figure out how bad the situation is.” She sighed, and he saw her shoulders sag a little. “I’m sorry, McRae. I know you’re trying to help. Right now, just sit down and try to stay warm. I promise I’ll take care of you.”
    Whoa. No one had ever said that to him before with such seriousness. He felt like a first-grader, outside in his shirtsleeves during a fire drill. Everything inside him simply stilled, confused. He’d never not taken charge, and he didn’t do helpless. Never had.
    Still, he could see stress shimmer off this woman, and while he’d had his doubts about her abilities, she did appear to have her wits about her, even if she did wear her prickly side out. Besides, he was on vacation, not responsible for anyone, right?
    “Call me if you need me.” He sat beside her, watching, wrestling with his ego. He had nothing to prove to anyone.
    She pulled out a canister of water, four survival bars, a packet of coffee, a pot, a mini-stove, and a metal canister with what he assumed held camp gas. She sat back, her hands on her legs. “Oh no.”
    “What?” From his first glance, it seemed she’d brought everything but his aunt Brenna’s canning kettle.
    “I thought I’d packed a tent.” She put a hand to her forehead, then absently ran her fingers along the bruise. “What was I thinking?”
    For a moment, past the can-do attitude and the snippy way she’d drawn the line in the sand, he recognized regret. The expression that said why am I so stupid? zeroed in on a tender place inside him and squeezed. Wow. Okay, just breathe through it. Regret did that—snuck up on him when he least expected it.
    Thankfully he was a lifetime away from his job now. The plane crash felt like an abrupt dividing line between the man he’d been—pushed by his job,