The Princess Has Amnesia!. Patricia Thayer
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Then there was a different tearing sound. Something was wrong with one of the engines. The jet tilted as they began to lose altitude.
Ana’s heart beat wildly. Oh, God! What was happening?
Her bodyguard, Rory, peered at her from the cockpit. “We’ve lost an engine, but we’re going to try and land the plane,” he said. “Grab some cushions from the benches and stuff them around you. Then put your head in your lap.”
“Rory, please,” she pleaded. “Tell me the truth. Are we going to…make it?”
He smiled. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Princess.”
The jet vibrated in earnest, sounding like it was breaking apart. Anastasia closed her eyes and thought about her family…. All her regrets. All the things she put off in her life. Twenty-five years was too short a time. She would never know what it was like to truly fall in love. A tear found its way down her cheek as she heard the pilot shouting.
“Mayday! Mayday! This is Royal Bird Two. We’ve lost power and we’re going to attempt to land.”
Ana buried her head in the cushions, and held on tight and prayed. Then came the awful sounds, the screeching of metal, the breaking glass, a series of sudden hard bumps and jerks. The force threatened to throw her from her seat, but her seat belt stopped her. Then the sound of her own screams…then nothing….
He can only watch as she runs toward the car. There’s nothing he can do to stop her. He tries to go after her, but something or someone is holding him back.
Terror races through him. She’s walking into a trap. No! No! Meg! “Don’t go,” he yells, but his words are only a hoarse whisper. Then a sudden explosion rocks the ground, throwing him backward as orange flames and debris shoot out in all directions, the heat scorching his skin and hair.
With a gasp, Jake Sanderstone jerked up in his bed. Sweat beaded along his naked body as he fought to pull air into his constricted lungs. Nothing worked until he began the calming exercises the doctor had recommended. Soon his breathing slowed along with his heart rate.
That was when he realized the fierce rain pounding against the cabin’s roof, and Max’s frantic barking. Combing his fingers through his hair, he stood and walked into the main room. Although not quite dawn, he could see the five-year-old shepherd mix pawing the floor by the door.
Lightning flashed again and seconds later thunder crashed, rumbling through the wooden structure. “Okay, I’ll let you out.”
Jake unlocked the rough fir door and pulled it open, allowing the cold wind in, sending a chill through his body. But it felt good. Made him feel alive. Not that he deserved to be. A rush of sadness threatened to swamp him, instead he dragged himself back to reality as the dog scampered outside.
Hearing a noise that didn’t sound related to the storm, Jake went to the edge of the porch and looked up in the sky. Off in the distance, he saw a light then made out the distinctive sound of a jet engine winding down. A pilot himself, he realized the plane was in trouble and coming down…fast. And there was nowhere to land in these mountains.
Damn! All he could do was watch as the small jet dropped out of sight, then heard a crash and the huge golden glow as flames shot up in the air. The impact and his previous training threw Jake into automatic rescue mode. He had to get out there and see if there were any survivors.
Jake rushed inside and pulled on special insulated clothing to protect him from the hard elements. There would be no rescue helicopter to help in this remote area. He was the only one. And since the area the plane went down was treacherous, he had to go in on foot. He grabbed his jacket and a backpack filled with a flashlight and other necessities for hiking, then hurried outside.
“Okay, Max.” Jake pulled on his cap. “Lead the way.”
As if the dog understood him, he took off through the brush. Jake kept up, all the time hoping that when they got to their destination, there would be a chance for survivors. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, but the thick foliage made the going rough through the forest. Still unfamiliar with the area after only four months, Jake trusted Max’s instincts. It was just over the rise when he inhaled the faint odor of fuel and smoke. Then he saw the row of damaged trees that the jet clipped off as it came into the meadow. Fifty yards beyond was the wreckage. Pieces of the aircraft had scattered when it broke apart on impact.
Jake arrived at the cockpit first to see it had taken the brunt of the crash. The fire was out and there were two men still strapped in their seats. He reached through the shattered glass and checked each man’s pulse. Nothing. Not that he’d expected any. He hurried on to the midsection that had separated and rested ten yards back. He checked inside, no one. Max sniffed around, then went outside, but Jake knew that someone had been sitting in one of the seats because there was fresh blood. Max began barking again.
Jake followed the sound until he caught up with the animal as he scurried through the trees. Again the rain grew heavy as Max began to bark in earnest. Jake found the dog in a group of trees. He was standing beside a body.
Jake knelt down beside Max. “Good, boy,” he praised as he went to the survivor. He took in the soaked jacket and skirt and dainty bare feet. A woman. Gently, he rolled her over and brushed her wet hair from her face. He tried to ignore the pretty face he exposed, but even with the large bump on her head, she was striking. He checked for a pulse and found one, a little weak, but she was alive. He was examining for broken bones and any other injuries when she moaned, then opened her eyes to reveal a rich blue color.
Her lips trembled. “Fire…Please…Help me,” she whispered.
“I’ll do my best, ma’am,” he said, taking the blanket from his pack and covering her cold body. He figured she’d been exposed for the past thirty minutes. They had a little protection from the rain where they were, but how bad was the storm going to get? The crashed plane wasn’t any protection either, since it was in a ravine and the heavy rain could cause flooding. He needed to get her back to the cabin and take care of her. He could deal with the others later.
He tucked the blanket over her soaked skirt and jacket. She definitely wasn’t dressed for a hike in the mountains, nor was she in any shape to. Her pupils were dilated, meaning she had a concussion. Besides, she’d been exposed to the cold rain too long. He needed to get her dry and warm. Now.
He brought her to a sitting position. “Come on, wake up.”
She blinked and stared up at him.
“I need to get you out of the weather. So that means I’ll have to carry you. It may hurt, but I’ll try and be as gentle as possible.”
No answer. Her eyes drifted shut once again.
He smiled as his hands moved to her small waist and he lifted her up and over his right shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He heard her groan and regretted his roughness, but this was the only way he could get her back to the cabin.
By the time he reached the door, they were both soaked to the skin and his legs were cramping from exhaustion. He stumbled inside and went straight to the couch in front of the fireplace and gently laid her down. Then he began tossing wood onto the grate, and set a match to the kindling. Once the fire caught, he turned back to his charge. She looked pale, and when he touched her face her skin was ice-cold.
Jake stripped off the blanket, then went to work on the expensive little blue suit that hadn’t provided much protection against the heavy rain. He unfastened the zipper, and slid the soaked material down her narrow hips, revealing long shapely legs. Next came the jacket and fancy silk blouse.
He drew in a breath when he got to the lacy underwear. Suddenly the room seemed warm. Lord! He’d been in the mountains too long if he sunk to ogling an unconscious woman. He went into the bedroom, stripped the dry blanket off the bed. Returning, he draped it over her.
With her covered, he took off the remainder of her wet clothes. After placing the articles of clothing by the fire, he took a few minutes to change into a pair of fresh jeans and a flannel shirt, which he left