He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to fail her, like he’d failed his brothers. They were going to die out here.
“You’ve made me believe I’m worthy of a life that’s truly mine.” Kensie’s voice cut through his thoughts, a strange raspy croak that sounded nothing like her normal voice. “I want you to believe what I already know. That you’re worthy of a good life, too. Even if it’s not with me.”
She thought he didn’t want a life with her? He didn’t have the energy to correct her, but keeping her talking wasn’t a bad idea. It would keep her awake. Falling asleep was a quicker trip to hypothermia.
But she was wrong. He wasn’t worthy. His right leg was failing him. He couldn’t even lift it anymore, just slide it forward and pray he didn’t lose traction and send them both tumbling down the mountain.
He glanced at Rebel and her soft brown eyes stared back at him, weary but determined. Rebel was still going on force of will and love for him and Kensie. She’d never give up, his dog, his partner.
In that instant, a new kind of strength filled him. A strength that wasn’t his own.
He glanced at the sky and he could almost feel his Marine brothers, watching over him, helping him. “Thank you,” he rasped.
Then he heard the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life. The familiar whomp whomp whomp of a helicopter.
He lifted his gaze skyward once more and there it was, circling overhead. A spotlight shot past them, then darted back. They’d been found.
Colter’s leg gave out and he collapsed.
Chapter Twenty-One
Colter woke with a start in an unfamiliar hospital bed. The beeping of the heart monitor next to him accelerated as the past few hours came back to him. “Kensie!”
“She’s okay,” a nurse reassured him.
Colter took a few deep breaths, getting his heart rate under control. This had happened several times already.
The helicopter he’d spotted from the mountain was a police chopper, sent out after his text to 911 had gone through. It hadn’t been able to set down for them on the wooded mountainside, so Colter had forced himself up. Beside him, Kensie had managed to do the same with Rebel pressed against her side. Together, the three of them had limped as far as they could, until finally a rescue team met them.
Now they were here, getting checked out. As hard as he’d tried to stay awake, Colter kept drifting off to sleep.
Beside him, Rebel pushed wearily to her feet and the nurse gave his dog a stern look.
“She shouldn’t be here.” The nurse repeated the same thing she said every time he woke.
“She’s my service dog.”
The nurse grunted, clearly not believing him. But hospital administration had—or, at least, that’s what he’d assumed, until a doctor had winked at him then bent down and checked Rebel’s leg, too. The doc had said his wife was military and he knew a soldier dog when he saw one.
Rebel seemed to like that and let the doctor examine her. He’d put ointment and gauze over each of her paws and then gently wrapped her leg. Thankfully, she hadn’t torn anything, just aggravated the old injury. It just needed time, the doctor told him. Much like Colter’s own leg.
They’d stripped off his wet clothes and soaked his hands, feet and nose—which all had minor frostbite—in warm water. Now his hands and feet were bare, wrapped in gauze, and he was in a hospital gown.
He knew Kensie had also suffered from frostbite, that she’d been experiencing hypothermia. But they’d assured him she would survive, then rushed her off to surgery to remove the bullet from her leg. That was the last he’d seen her.
Colter glanced at the clock on the wall, trying to remember what time they’d arrived. “What’s taking so long?” he asked the nurse.
“We’re making sure we address everything,” she replied, a little more patiently than she’d responded to Rebel’s presence. “She’ll be okay.” Then she glanced over at the door. “You’ve got visitors.”
His gaze shot up. Rebel’s did, too, surely expecting the same thing he did. To see Kensie standing there, smiling tiredly. Instead, he discovered a pair of police officers.
He didn’t know either of them. They were wearing uniforms from a town northeast of Desparre, closer to where the helicopter had found him, Kensie and Rebel.
The pair stepped into his room, both serious cops who looked like they’d been on the force a long time. The nurse left, closing the door behind her, and Colter’s heart pounded. “Did you find them?”
When the rescue team had arrived, Kensie’s first words had been about her sister. She’d been frantic and desperate, barely making sense, so Colter had filled in as best he could with aching lungs and a body that wanted to just lie down and sleep.
He’d been asking for updates every time he woke, but no one seemed to know anything.
“We sent a tactical team out to the cabin,” one of the officers replied. “It was partially cleared out. We’re tracking the Altiers now. We’ve talked to the nearest neighbors—a couple of miles away—and learned it’s a family of seven. The parents and five children. The neighbor confirmed the oldest girl is named Alanna.”
The news sent a shock through Colter, even though Kensie’s reaction when she’d seen the girl had already told him it was her.
“Our team is still searching. We’ll let you know as soon as we
