Page 57 of Deceptive Lies

Red and orange dancing flames.

That was when it clicked.

The roaring that had awakened him had to have been the helicopter exploding. He was in it when it crashed, he was positive of that. Which meant the only reason he wasn't in it now, wasn't currently dead or burning to death, was because of the small weight resting against his chest.

Willow.

She’d saved his life.

She must have regained consciousness first and pulled him from the wreckage, anticipating that it might go up in flames.

Relief had tears welling in his eyes. Cooper hadn't cried since the day he was thirteen years old and learned his mother had apparently committed suicide in her cell so she didn't have to face the consequences of her betrayal of her country.

He’d cried then and he wasn't ashamed to admit he shed a tear or two now.

If Willow had dragged him from the wreckage, then she was alive. Against all odds, they had both survived the crash.

A miracle.

No other way to describe it.

Carefully, he reached out and smoothed Willow’s hair. His body moved as he’d ordered it to, even if it hurt, so he had to assume he had not just survived but managed to do so without life-threatening injuries. Willow, too, because she’d dragged him a good hundred yards or so away from the remains of the helicopter.

“Willow, honey, can you hear me?” he asked as he shifted her body slightly so he could sit up. This woman never ceased to amaze him. Not only had she pulled him out of the wreckage and a safe distance away from it, but when the helicopter had exploded, she’d thrown her body over his before passing out.

Warmth spread through him. Willow was a keeper, that much heknew for certain. As uncertain as their future was it was nice to have that one thing to hold onto.

And he did hold onto it as he moved onto his knees and lay Willow’s still form out before him. There was fresh blood on her face, and he noted several rips in her clothes that were also sticky with blood. As he ran his hands up and down her body, searching for anything he had to be immediately concerned about, he was beyond grateful when he didn't find anything.

Settling his fingertips on the wrist of her unbroken arm, he checked her pulse. It was exactly how he’d expect to find it given the trauma she’d just been through, but the very fact that it beat beneath his fingers was a testament to how lucky they had been.

“Willow?” he called her name again, brushing locks of hair away from the blood on her face.

There was no answer, and as badly as he wanted to be staring into her turquoise eyes, he accepted that she’d used up whatever strength she had after the crash by saving his life. Right now, her mind needed to protect itself and her body, and to do that, it had to shut down and allow itself some time to recoup.

“Thank you, honey. I won't ever forget what you did for me.” Leaning down, Cooper brushed his lips to her forehead. No matter what happened between them, he wanted Willow in his life, even if he could only have her as a friend. She was strong, brave, loyal, determined, and someone he counted himself lucky to know.

Since there was nothing he could do for her right now, Cooper struggled to his feet, his own body longing for the respite of unconsciousness, but he had to check out the wreckage to see if anything was salvageable.

Just because they had survived the crash didn't mean they were out of the woods.

Or out of the desert.

Their situation was still precarious. They were both injured, both bleeding, and infection was a major concern. Willow had already been hurt before the crash, her body had already pushed up to and beyond its limits. Then there was the fact that as soon as the sun rose it was goingto get hot. Really hot. Dehydration was their biggest concern right now. Injured as they were, it could take them out in less than a day. Lost as they were, they couldn’t just sit around, no one was coming to rescue them, and no doubt, once the helicopter didn't show up, Mahmoud’s men would be out searching for it. Which meant they had to move, water or not.

Heat was radiating off the wreckage as he approached it. He could see one body partially hanging out of the helicopter, it was likely the man he’d been fighting with when the gun went off and took out the helicopter’s controls. That still left the pilot, but what were the chances that all three of them had survived the crash and escaped the wreckage before it exploded?

Not high.

Still, he rounded the burning remains and saw the body of the pilot still in his seat.

One worry out of the way. At least no one would be coming after them for at least a few hours.

If Mahmoud’s men came looking for them while it was still dark, the burning wreckage was a dead giveaway to their location. There was nothing he could salvage from it. It was burning too badly for him to see if there had been water on board, or even a first aid kit which might have bandages and antibiotics.

There was one thing he could do though.

Scooping up a handful of sand, he threw it at the closest dancing flames. Slowly, Cooper circled the plane over and over again. Gathering as much sand as he could to douse the flames. It was hard, tiring work that made only a tiny bit of difference at a time, but eventually, he began smothering some of the flames.

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