Freefall

“All rangers please respond for SAR.”

Hope had been a ranger at Sierra National Park for five years. Her job was part law enforcement, part nature guide, and she loved it. Although she was supposed to be on vacation for the next week, she couldn’t ignore a call for a search-and-rescue operation. In an area with huge cliffs, swift-moving rivers and sprawling forests, accidents happened. Rock climbers fell. Hikers got lost in the woods. Children became drowning victims.

“Don’t you dare answer that,” Faith warned.

“I have to,” she said. As a district ranger, she was required to stay in radio contact and respond to emergencies. She picked up the receiver to speak with the dispatch office. “This is Ranger Banning.”

“Hope, we have word of a single-engine plane down at Angel Wings.”

Her stomach clenched with unease. “Any survivors?”

“There’s been no radio communication from the craft. A climber saw the crash a few hours ago and came into the station to report it.”

“Which station?”

“Mineral King.”

Hope swore under her breath. Mineral King was her station, and she was more familiar with Angel Wings than the other rangers. She also had experience with high-angle rescue, which this operation might require. “I’ll be right there.”

“You can’t be serious,” Faith said.

She wavered, torn between loyalties. Both her sister and her job were extremely important to her.

“Why can’t someone else go?”

“I don’t know if anyone else is available. The guy covering my station isn’t qualified to organize a search-and-rescue.”

The busy season didn’t officially start until July, and it was the first week of June. They only had twelve year-round staff members with law enforcement badges. During an emergency situation, all rangers in the area were ordered to check in. Hope had to step up to this responsibility or take the heat for it.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I told you not to answer the call,” Faith wailed. “Five minutes later and we’d have been on the water.”

Hope hurried out of the Jeep Liberty and grabbed Faith’s backpack before approaching the passenger side. “Best-case scenario, another ranger will handle it and I’ll be back by launch time. I can also rent a kayak to catch up with the group.”

“Are you high? I’m not going without you.”

“Come on, Faith. They might have to cancel the whole trip if we both don’t show. They need a certain number of people in the raft.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So?”

“It’s bad for park business.”

“Park business,” Faith muttered, climbing out of the vehicle. “That’s all you care about.”

Hope’s heart twisted in her chest. She knew she worked too much. During last summer’s vacation, she’d returned to the park two days early to fill in for an injured employee. Faith and Hope had argued about her dedication to her job before. “No, it’s not.”

“Next year we’re going to Las Vegas for an indoor vacation. We’ll buy cocktails instead of trail mix.” Faith’s mouth thinned as she pointed a slender finger at her. “And I’ll make you wear my clothes.”

“Done.”

“If I drown, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You won’t drown,” Hope said, hugging her tight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She let go of her sister with regret and climbed behind the wheel once again, waving as she drove away. Faith looked disappointed, even forlorn, and Hope felt awful. If she missed the entire trip, their vacation would be ruined.

Hands tightening around the steering wheel, she turned down the winding forest service road toward Mineral King.

Although she tried to stay upbeat, it wasn’t easy. She worked a lot of solitary hours as a park ranger. During her time off, she enjoyed quiet individual pursuits like hiking and photographing wildlife. She’d been anticipating her sister’s visit for months. Faith was right—she needed to interact with people more.

The Mineral King Station was in a remote section of the park, popular with backpackers and rock climbers. Families with small children often just drove through, and day hikers flocked to more accessible places like Giant Forest and Crescent Meadow. Because of its distance from the main tourist attractions, Mineral King had the hushed, pristine quality of true wilderness. Bear sightings were common.

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. She’d been hoping for an unreliable witness, maybe a hippie backpacker who’d 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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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. He’d 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 she’d inquired about the scars, he told her that he’d 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 didn’t 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 who’d struck out with one or the other, they were lovers.

Hope had personal evidence to the contrary.

“This is Sam Rutherford,” he said.

“We’ve 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. “It’s 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?”