And then, Cass’s voice, but so soft it was hard to hear her. “Charlie, I . . .”
Charlie pressed her other hand to her ear, trying to block out the firehouse’s ambient noise so she could focus on Cass. “I can hardly hear you,” she said, speaking loudly. “Where are you?”
“Charlie . . . I’m hurt.” Her sister was crying, and Charlie’s stomach dropped.
“You’re hurt?” Charlie was practically shouting now. Feeling panicked, she looked up at Jake, wild-eyed. “Cass? Cass! Where are you?”
“On the trail. I . . . hit my head and I . . .” Her twin sounded so weak.
“Which trail? Cass? What trail?”
But there was no answer, and a second later the call disconnected. Charlie called Cass back, but it went straight to voicemail. She tried again, and again got voicemail. “Cass, please, please, please pick up.” Her voice shook as she tried Cass one more time.
“Charlie, talk to me,” Jake said. “Let me help you.”
Just then the fire station’s alarms started blaring. Angry red lights joined in, the sound of the alarm loud enough Charlie had to put her hands over her ears. She shouted to Jake that she had to go and find Cass. He nodded and then leaned close and said, “Wait one minute. Wait for me,” before racing up the stairs.
But Charlie couldn’t wait, her only thoughts were about getting to Cass as soon as she could.
* * *
? ? ?
Charlie drove back to the bakery faster than she should have, given the state of the roads, the blizzard making it nearly impossible to see anything. A few minutes later she’d arrived at the bakery and raced inside, quickly throwing on one of Cass’s down feather ski jackets, along with a pair of heavy-duty snow boots and waterproof gloves. She was on her way back to the car when another car pulled up to the front of the bakery.
A dark-haired man jumped out, handsome and vaguely familiar. Charlie couldn’t quite place him, but he seemed to think he knew who she was. “Cass!” he shouted, turning up the collar of his jacket against the snow and wind as he moved quickly toward her.
“No, it’s Charlie,” she shouted back. Then he was in front of her, and she suddenly recognized him. The physician assistant who had treated her the night of her concussion. What was his name? Her mind went blank.
“Oh. Hi, Charlie. It’s Miguel. From the ER, when you came in with your concussion last week? Wow, is it ever cold here.”
Charlie didn’t have time to figure out how Miguel knew Cass, or why he was here in Starlight Peak looking for her. She opened her car door. “Miguel, I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s an emergency.”
“Oh, of course! Don’t let me keep you. I’m just wondering . . . do you know where Cass is?”
Charlie paused, her hand on the car’s door handle. “She’s my emergency.”
Miguel’s face dropped. “What happened? Is she alright?”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said, her voice quavering. The wind whipped at her cheeks, the snow sharp against her skin. She opened the car door and got inside.
“I’m coming with you,” Miguel shouted, before sprinting around to the passenger side. He was in the car and buckling his seat belt before Charlie even registered what was happening.
“Let’s go,” he said, his mouth set in a grim line, and Charlie—no longer trying to hide her tears—nodded and put the car in drive.
* * *
? ? ?
“Cass!” The three of them, Charlie, Miguel, and Jake, shouted her name over and over as they made their way up onto the mountain from the trailhead, their flashlight beams crisscrossing the snow-covered trail. Charlie had made Miguel call Jake as they drove, filling him in on what was happening. He promised to meet them at the parking lot at the base of the trails, and was bringing flashlights and some gloves and a hat for Miguel, along with first aid supplies. The rest of Jake’s crew was out on a call—apparently someone had overcooked a turkey, causing a small kitchen fire—but Jake had told the chief he had to go help Charlie. She was grateful, not only because of the three of them he was the only one with actual rescue experience, but because she felt better about most everything when he was nearby. With him there, Charlie felt sure they could find Cass. That they would find Cass.
Charlie wanted to throw up every time she thought about her sister’s pitiful, pained voice. She had to be okay. Whatever had happened during the past week with Cass in L.A., Charlie no longer cared about any of it. She just wanted to hug her sister.