Page 45 of One Last Chance

He emerged, the bag of soggy clothing over his shoulder, his boots untied, the laces trailing. “Let’s blow.”

They were down the hall before he heard a nurse calling his name, but he ignored her and hit the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time, Boo keeping up.

Moose hit the door as it was closing, taking his time. “Sheesh, you’re not escaping prison. Simply ask to be discharged?—”

His voice cut out on the ground-level door closing behind Axel.

And then he was free. The sky had cleared, the debris from the storm littering the parking lot, turning the air soggy, but overhead, simply bright blue, the scent of pine and ocean in the air.

“Still hungry?” Boo said. “I saw Jell-O on your tray.”

“Find me a burger, and fast.”

Moose came out, holding the keys to the truck he’d borrowed from someone over at the airport. “I’ll call the others, get Shep to fuel up the chopper.”

Axel slowed, fell into step with Moose and Boo. “So, do we get food here, or wait until we get to Anchorage—maybe stop by the Skyport Diner?”

Moose glanced at him. “There’s a burger place on the way to the airport.”

Oh. Huh. Interesting.

“Besides, my guess is that you’ll want me to fly you up to Copper Mountain.”

Axel grinned at him. “I like how you think.”

“What I think is that you’ve created the woman of your dreams in your head. You do know that whoever was on the other end of the radio was probably a fifty-year-old woman with bad teeth who has lived in the bush for thirty years, bathes once a year whether she needs it or not, and spends more time talking to her sled dogs than humans, right?”

“She sounded younger.” Axel grinned at him. “Calm down, bro. I just want to thank her, not ask her out on a date.”

“Sure you do.” Moose unlocked the doors to the truck with a beep. “Boo, you sit in the middle so I don’t have to smell him.”

“What?”

“You do smell like the ocean,” Boo said.

Axel gave himself a sniff before he got in. Okay, so maybe he’d stop for a shower at the Air One base first.

Moose was grinning, however, as they drove through a fast-food joint and grabbed a stack of burgers, enough for the entire crew.

Okay, so maybe Axel did harbor a smidgen of wishful thinking. Because she didn’t sound like a fifty-year-old toothless woman with a shotgun, dressed in pelts. She’d mentioned being a wolf researcher, yes, but so was Peyton Samson, and every guy in town had mourned the loss of her on the list of single women when Nash proposed.

Sparrow could be just as hot as Peyton. And better—her laughter sat inside him, even after the wave had filled the life raft and shorted out his radio.

He’d survived the next three hours shivering and replaying their conversation about river monsters and bungee jumping and the stories about her life as a serial-killer hunter . . . He’d even told her about the Coast Guard.

Really, she’d kept him alive.

“I like you too. So I’m going to be really peeved with you if you die.”

Yes, he was most definitely tracking her down.

Three hours later, showered, full, and awake, he disembarked from Air One’s Cessna 206 onto the tarmac in Copper Mountain. His father waited beyond the gate, his hands shoved into his jacket, the wind blowing his thin brown hair as Moose tied down the plane.

Axel secured the tail and waved to Ace. Moose joined him. “Any idea where this woman is?”

“Not a clue. In the bush somewhere. I thought I’d start with Peyton. Hey, Dad.”

Ace glanced at Moose, then put his hand around the back of Axel’s neck, squeezed. Gave him a nod. Then he let go and headed for the truck.

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