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Booth took his place in the door. One toe of his boot stuck out over the edge. He looked down at the darkness and inhaled a deep breath, then released it.
“Get ready, Wildfire Girl. I’m comin’ for you.”
She was spent. Nova wasn’t sure how long she’d sat in the grass with tears rolling down her face, clicking the flashlight in an SOS pattern, before Abilene shuffled over.
The horse nudged her ear and mouthed her tangled hair.
Nova dropped the flashlight in her lap and scratched Abilene’s chin. “Thank you. I think I was starting to spiral a little. I guess they’re not coming back, so we’d better figure out what to do.”
Abilene still knew the way home. Or so Henry had assured her.
Okay, but how would she haul herself onto Abilene’s back with a broken ankle? Did she even have enough left in her to ride out, or would pain and exhaustion force her to fall?
A familiar pressure built in Nova’s chest, crushing her lungs like a vise. Her next inhale emerged shallow and ragged. Closing her eyes didn’t block out the suffocating wave of pain.
No one is coming back. You will die here. Forgotten.
“No,” she choked out through gritted teeth. Aria’s words replayed in her head. I love you and you have a whole crew that loves you—in their own way. No one will ever forget you, Nova Burns.
Sagging forward onto one palm, Nova pressed the other hand hard over her galloping heart.
Mind over matter.
Nova raised her head and forced heavy eyelids open.
She was trained for worst-case wilderness scenarios. This was just another mission requiring her resolve and survival skills.
She hadn’t lost it all yet.
Abilene whinnied and lifted her muzzle.
Nova heard it too. The growing thunder of an approaching engine.
She scrambled for the flashlight and thumbed it on, off, on, off…
The night sky overhead flashed with her SOS. “Please…this time, see me.”
The plane cruised back into view, this time flying higher. Any smokejumper would recognize the aircraft positioning.
“I knew it,” she told Abilene. “We’re getting out of here!”
She tracked the plane’s path. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when the beacon light flashed and she caught a glimpse of the open door.
When the lone figure launched into open space, Nova sucked in a breath that squeezed her ribs.
Too much depended on the next few seconds. She forgot to breathe, watching the skydiver’s trajectory.
After gut-wrenching seconds, the parachute canopy deployed. Nova used Abilene for support and pulled herself up to standing.
She tracked the form’s descent. Swirling wind spilled air from the canopy and the jumper plunged.
The jumper hit the ground with bruising force. Fabric billowed behind him as he rolled through the landing. From fifty yards away, she watched the man wrestle clear of the deflated rigging, stand, and toss his helmet on the ground. He whipped in her direction.
Nova released her pent-up breath in an explosive rush.
The lines of the muscular silhouette sent her pulse thrumming. She heard someone sob his name. Then realized that the broken cry had come from her own throat.
“Booth!”