Her face went pale the instant they left her mouth. But she didn’t take them back.
Frustration and fear and three weeks of helplessness boiled over. Before he could stop himself, the words spilled out. “Maybe if you’d been more supportive of me staying active instead of treating me like I’m made of glass, I’d be recovered by now.”
Silence.
Meg recoiled. Her face went white, then red. Those beautiful blue eyes—hurt mixed with anger.
No.
Regret hit instantly, cold in his chest.
“Noah—” Nimue started.
“I didn’t mean—” He reached for Meg. “Meg, I’m sorry. That wasn’t?—”
The emergency line rang.
All three of them froze.
That line—the direct line that only ranger stations and SAR teams used—almost never rang. When it did, it meant something serious.
Noah’s heart dropped.
He moved to the desk and pressed the speaker button. “North Rim Ranger Station, this is Noah.”
“Noah, it’s dispatch at South Rim.” The voice was professional but tight. “We have Xander Sullivan here. He hiked out. Says there’s been an incident with one of your teams.”
His fingers whitened against the desk.
Xander hiked out. Alone.
“What kind of incident?”
Beside him, Meg had gone still. Nimue’s hand pressed to her mouth.
“Injuries. Two climbers down.” Papers rustled. “He requested helicopter evac. With the bird still down, we called in a favor, but our medic is down with the flu.”
Noah locked eyes with Meg.
She nodded without hesitation.
That’s my girl.
“Meg can be ready to fly in five.” He kept his voice steady. “Who’s injured?”
“He said—” More rustling. “Trey Conner with a broken leg, and?—”
Noah looked at Nimue. Her face had gone gray. She knew. Before the dispatcher said it, she knew.
“—and Liam Kingsley with a head injury. He’s unconscious.”
Liam.
Unconscious.
The room tilted. Noah gripped the desk. Beside him, Nimue made a small, broken sound and braced herself against the wall.
Liam—stubborn, loyal Liam who’d rappelled into the canyon without a second thought. Liam who’d taken off with Nimue to protect her from the Russian mob.