www.millsandboon.co.uk

      The King will reply, “I tell you the truth:

       whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”

      —Matthew 25:40

      This story is dedicated to my big sister, Pam Hruza. From my very earliest memories she’s been like a second mother. She has prayed for me, defended me, given me medical advice, taken me shopping, taken me trick-or-treating (again) the day after Halloween, and moved me more times than I can count. She’s hauled a chaise lounge for me from Houston to Atlanta on top of her minivan, told me when to hide my eyes during scary movies, loaned me money, loaned me clothes, loaned me her car, and she would loan me her Harley if I was brave enough to get on it. She’s cooked holiday meals for my family, cared for my baby daughter (now twenty-four) so I could sleep on the weekends, loved me without question or judgment when I didn’t deserve it and never once expected anything in return. She is a faithful Christian, a gifted caregiver and a selfless friend, sister, mother and wife. Gail and I love you, Pamela Kay! The three of us share a boundless bond only sisters can understand.

      Acknowledgments

      Thanks to Grand Canyon Rescue volunteer Candace Hesson for her invaluable guidance during the writing of this story. If there are any technical errors in the opening scene they are mine alone.

      Thanks to author Jill Nutter for her honest input on living with mental illness in the family.

      Thanks to Coldwell Banker Realtor Mary Butler for answering all my questions and for providing me with photos of San Angelo.

      Thanks to Steeple Hill senior editor Melissa Endlich for making me a better writer.

      And, as always, thanks to my husband for loving me enough to waltz me across Texas, over and over again. Together we discover the settings and the characters that come to life in my stories. You make it all worthwhile, Michael!

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      Doctor Alison Stone dangled five hundred feet above the limestone canyons of Big Bend National Park, her harness secured to the bottom of a Bell Ranger helicopter. The roar from the engines was deafening, but with countless long line exercises to her credit Ali’s concern was not for the din from the ship overhead but instead for the boy who’d been discovered in the small clearing below. As they approached she kept her eyes on the motionless figure, praying this mission would end in a patient rescue and not a victim recovery. Her heartbeat was normal; her hands steady where they clutched the basket litter to secure it in the sixty-mile-per-hour wind wash from the props. She had complete faith in her crew, certain Harry and Sid would deposit her gently on the rocky ledge and then return when she called for pick up.

      The search for fifteen-year-old Ethan Lamar had gone on for three days. Three days. Seventy-two hours with the diamondbacks, bobcats and coyotes was a minor survival exercise for a normal hiker. For a boy with Asperger’s syndrome, being without supervision in the wild could be a death sentence. A tragic outcome she knew only too well.

      Congressional hopeful Benjamin Lamar had managed to keep his son’s diagnosis a private matter for over two years. But when the former Dallas Cowboys linebacker turned positive-thinking guru went to the media to plead for search volunteers, his personal drama became public fodder.

      Ali’s life’s mission was to rescue young people, but this situation had her struggling with how to respond. Fortunately, prayer left her with no room for doubt or recourse. She cancelled her clients for the coming week, loaded her dog, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, into the Land Rover and the two best friends rushed from their home in San Angelo to the search site. As a woman who’d grown up alone in foster care and knew the firsthand, bottomless pain of losing her family, Ali’s soul ached for the boy. As a psychotherapist who’d written her graduate thesis on the little-known disorder of Asperger’s, she was drawn by the case and the cleverness of the missing kid.

      She’d learned that although he was easily startled by the noise of kitchen appliances, he’d been brave enough to leave undetected from a camp for special needs boys, and throughout the weekend Ethan Lamar had eluded the party of rescue workers. But Monday’s first search plane had spotted and confirmed a body wedged in the steep canyon.

      Ali blessed Harry’s experience as a pilot when he positioned her directly above the ledge and lowered her as planned. With her boots secure on a slab of rock she detached her harness and the litter from the cable. Two pats to the top of her helmet where her braid was tightly tucked signaled all clear and the ship pulled away, leaving her in the breathtaking silence of the national park.

      Sixty