She parked outside the station house, next to a forest service vehicle. Owen Jackson, a park attendant, had been appointed to take her place this morning. He sat behind the front desk, across from Sam Rutherford.
Sam was a local rock climbing celebrity, a recluse and the last person on earth Hope wanted to see.
Her mood plummeted further. Sam must have reported the plane crash. Shed been hoping for an unreliable witness, maybe a hippie backpacker whod taken some psychedelic drugs and confused a shooting star for a horrific accident.
Sam glanced over his shoulder at her, his dark gaze skimming her body. Recognition and unease registered in his eyes, but he didnt flinch or tense his muscles. Instead, he returned his focus to Owen, as if waiting for an introduction.
How dare he pretend not to know her?
The two men appeared comfortable with each other, which didnt surprise her. Sam had recommended Owen for an entry-level position last summer. He donated fat checks to the park every year, so his suggestions were greeted with polite consideration. Hope had interviewed Owen herself and found little fault with him, other than a felony record. Hed worked on a prison forestry crew, so he had wildfire experience.
Ranger Banning, Owen said, rising to his feet. He was a lean, cagey young man with close-cropped blond hair and haunting blue eyes. There was a thin red mark on his neck, and a larger, thicker welt on his hand. When shed inquired about the scars, he told her that hed had some tattoos removed.
Since his start date, Owen had been a model employee. He had a quick mind and a strong back. Unlike some of the young male park attendants, he didnt hit on tourists or drink too much. Hope had come to like him.
She wondered, and not for the first time, what connected a former inmate to a former Olympian. According to a rumor spread by women whod struck out with one or the other, they were lovers.
Hope had personal evidence to the contrary.
This is Sam Rutherford, he said.
Weve met.
He reported the incident.
Sam stood to greet her with insulting belatedness. Nice to see you again...Ranger Banning.
She realized that he was fishing for her first name. Indignation filled her, suffusing her cheeks with heat. Its Hope.
Hope. Right.
Judging by his expression, he remembered what she looked like naked, if nothing else. She took a deep breath, counting on her tanned complexion to mask her embarrassment. When was the crash?
Around 3:00 a.m.
What were you doing at 3:00 a.m.?
He hesitated for a second. Climbing.
Night climbing was unusual, but not unheard of, in summer months. Visitors took advantage of the cooler temperatures and available moonlight. Illegal activities like BASE jumping were often done under the cloak of darkness, as well.
What did you see?
Just lights. I think it was a single-engine plane, flying too low. It hit the top of Angel Wings and burst into flames.
Where were you?
On Valhalla. Near the summit.
Valhalla was a steep rock face directly across from Angel Wings. She checked her watch, noting that it was eight-twenty. You got from there to here in five hours?
Yes.
How?
I ran.
Upon closer study, his shirt was damp with perspiration. The lightweight fabric clung to his broad shoulders and flat stomach. Maybe hed been slow to stand because he was tired, not out of disrespect, but he didnt appear fatigued. Despite the sweat, he was an endurance athlete and it showed. From the soles of his well-worn shoes to the top of his dark-haired head, he radiated strength and vitality.
She remembered how he looked naked, too: good. Very good.
Have a seat, she said, clearing her throat. She turned to Owen. Youve relayed this information to Dispatch?
Yes, maam.
She excused herself and stepped outside. Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios as she picked up her radio. The dispatcher answered her a few seconds later. What can you tell me about the craft?
Theres been no emergency transmission or distress calls from the area. No flight plan was recorded.
In uncontrolled airspace, a pilot could use visual flight rules, but it wasnt recommended. The weather over the Sierras could be dangerous in the daytime. Flying close to the mountains at night without instruments looked suspicious.
This search-and-rescue might turn into a drug-smuggling bust. Wheres Dixon? she asked, naming the park manager.
I havent been able to reach him.
What about Mark?
Hes at Moro Rock with the SAR team. Two hikers fell. One is unconscious and the other has a broken leg.
Hope swore under her breath, rubbing a hand down her face. This was her worst nightmare. Of the twelve park rangers with law enforcement badges, only Hope and Mark Griffon were accomplished climbers. Mark wasnt available. The SAR team wasnt available. Her supervisor wasnt available.
Heart racing, she weighed her options. The clock was already ticking. If she didnt reach the crash site before sundown, she couldnt call for a helicopter. Night rescues were too dangerous to attempt at a place like Angel Wings, where extreme wind conditions were common. And when the temperature dropped, crash victims often died of exposure.
Hope had responded to a similar call a few years ago. Before she became a permanent employee at Sierra National Park, shed worked winters in Joshua Tree, one of Southern Californias desert parks. A family of four had gone down in a twin-engine plane near Jumbo Rocks. Two of the wounded were children, and there was nothing anyone on the SAR team could do to save them. Hope had been training for her EMT certificate at the time. The scene was so horrific she almost quit the next day.
She didnt want to face another tragedy like that, especially on her own, but she couldnt afford to wait for a backup team. Her window of opportunity was too narrow. She had to get to the crash site and assess the situation as quickly as possible. If she left now, shed arrive in time to request air transport.
The fastest route to the top of Angel Wings was straight up the rock face. Hiking from the Kaweah trailhead on the east side of the mountain was easier, but it would take twice as long. The only problem with a direct ascent was that she couldnt do it alone. Shed never solo-climbed Angel Wings. It was an expert-only wall, rated 5.10+ in difficulty. She needed to find a suitable partner. There were several skilled climbers in the area who volunteered for high-angle search-and-rescue.
Sam Rutherford was one of them.
At least, he used to be. These days he avoided crowds, and most people, but hed worked more rescues than Hope. A few years ago hed been part of the elite SAR site team at Yosemite National Park. The man also knew Angel Wings like the back of his hand, and hed witnessed the crash. He might be able to pinpoint its exact location.
Just a minute, she said, signing off.
Hope clipped the radio to her waistband and went back inside the station, her blood pumping with adrenaline. Instead of scrambling for another volunteer, she faced her nemesis. Can you take me to the crash site?
His brows shot up. Is there anyone else?
Shed forgotten that he had run ten miles to get here. Yes, of course. You must be exhausted.
His brows shot up. Is there anyone else?
Shed forgotten that he had run ten miles to get here. Yes, of course. You must be exhausted.
No, Im fine, he said, shaking his head. I mean...is there anyone besides you?
Besides me?
That I can climb with.
Hope gaped at him in disbelief. She didnt know if he assumed she couldnt keep up with him because she was a woman, or if he objected to her company because theyd slept together. Both reasons offended her.
Ill go, Owen offered.
Youre not a ranger, she said.
Neither am I, Sam pointed out.
One of us has to be for this kind of mission. Im the only qualified law enforcement ranger in the area, and I need a rescue climber to go with me. Youre a convenient choice, but I can find a replacement.
He knew as well as she did that they had to start hiking now to reach the site before dark. No. Ill do it.
Although his reluctance rankled, she told herself he was wise to be cautious. I should warn you that this aircraft might have been flying at night to escape detection. Theres no recorded flight plan or distress call.
This information didnt seem to faze him. He skimmed her casual clothes. Do you carry a firearm?
She had a handgun in her vehicle. Ill get it.
Im ready when you are.
Owen seemed fascinated by their exchange. He leaned against the counter, studying Sam as if hed grown two heads.
Hope didnt have time to second-guess her decision. Dragging a hand through her hair, she walked out to her Jeep. Her service weapon was in the lockbox. Normally she wore it on a utility belt, but she didnt have one with her. She shoved the gun into her day pack, along with extra clothes and some snacks.
Sam and Owen accompanied her to the SAR cache, where they housed rescue supplies.
I need Dispatch to arrange for a helicopter and a backup rescue team on standby, she said to Owen.
Can they fly over the crash site to check it out? Sam asked.
Hope shook her head. Im not supposed to call for a helicopter unless there are confirmed life-threatening injuries. Angel Wings is in a dangerous flight zone and the cost of an air rescue is astronomical.
He made a noise of understanding. Ordering an expensive flyover when there might be no survivors wasnt an efficient use of tax dollars. Budget cuts, otherwise known as service adjustments, had hit national parks, like everywhere else.
She didnt want to bring the same items as Sam, so she glanced around for his gear. Wheres your rack?
I dont have it.
Her eyes flew back to his, startled. You were free-soloing at night?
Theres a full moon, he said, as if that made it reasonable.
Hope sorted through the rescue supplies with a frown. Free-soloing was an extreme style of climbing without ropes or harnesses. The practice was outrageously risky in broad daylight. Shed never heard of anyone doing it at night. He was a maniac. And she had to depend on him to keep her safe?
Trying not to panic, she added the necessary equipment to a second pack. She didnt know what was worseclimbing with a lunatic or spending time with a man whod thrown her out of his bed.
CHAPTER TWO
SAM TOOK THE path toward the High Sierra Trail, feeling like a fool.
He hadnt known Hope was a park ranger. The night theyd slept together, hed assumed she was a slope bunny on vacation. In hindsight, hed been careless. Seducing a woman he didnt intend to see again only worked if they didnt see each other again. He should have made sure she wasnt local.
A quick glance behind him revealed that she wasnt having any trouble matching his longer strides. It figured. Shed been an energetic bed partner, too. He remembered her strong, slender thighs, gripping him like a vise.
Giving himself a mental shake, he pushed aside the memory and picked up speed, setting a relentless pace. Hed never been able to outrun his problems, but physical exertion soothed him in a way nothing else could. The day was already warm, the sun peeking over the tall treetops. After twenty minutes, he was sweating.
Hope used her radio to call the whitewater rafting guide. Go ahead without me, she said, signing off.
Youre missing a rafting trip? he asked over his shoulder.
Yes. We were planning to spend three days on the Kaweah.
We?
My sister and I.
Does she live around here?
No. Shes from L.A.
He heard the telltale inflection in her tone. Los Angeles was a dirty word in the Sierras. How could he have mistaken her for a tourist? Hed really been thinking with his dick that night. Where are you from?
Ojai.
Now that he thought about it, he remembered her sharing that detail at the bar. Ojai, pronounced Oh-hi, was a sleepy town near the coast. Theyd laughed together over its hippie nickname, Get-high.
No wonder he hadnt realized she was local. Maybe shed kept him in the dark on purpose. It wasnt a secret that he didnt date climbing groupies or park residents. He didnt date at all, since Melissa.
Sam couldnt fault Hope for the miscommunication. Even if shed lied to him, which he doubted, it didnt matter. Theyd had anonymous sex. Honesty wasnt required. He hadnt exactly given her a full disclosure, either.
Concentrating on the climb, he adjusted his gait along a steep incline. His legs moved forward at a steady clip, step after step. Hope didnt slow down or complain, so he continued to push hard. When he was in the zone, his thoughts drifted away, leaving nothing but the moment. They were making good time.
Two hours later, at midmorning, the sun was blazing, and his shirt was damp with sweat. She stumbled behind him, her breathing labored.
He stopped under the next shady tree to rest. We should eat lunch, he said. You dont want to get light-headed on the climb.
She agreed, reaching into her pack for two protein bars and two apples. He accepted her offering without complaint. His dehydrated meals werent half as tasty. The crisp apple awakened his senses.
Although he tried not to stare, he couldnt avoid glancing at her. She was even lovelier than he remembered.
The night they met, he hadnt been able to take his eyes off her. The moment she walked into the bar, his pulse had kicked up and his throat had gone dry. After more than a year of his feeling next to nothing at the most challenging, dangerous summits, this flood of sensation left him breathless.
Shed been wearing a dark blue thermal with a cute snowflake pattern. It was about as sexy as a reindeer sweater, not revealing in the least, but hed ignored the good-girl giveaway and focused on the body underneath. Hed been mesmerized by her bright smile, smooth skin and shiny dark hair.
Why hadnt he left her alone? Shed looked disgustingly sweet, innocent and healthy. Easy pickings.
Theyd both been drinking. She sipped white wine like a teetotaler while he knocked back shots. Hed waited until she was tipsy to make his move. At that point, hed been drunk enough to go through with it, but not too drunk to perform.
He knew Hope wasnt a no-strings type, and he hadnt cared. He hadnt cared about her name, or her profession, or her feelings.