He chuckles and squeezes the back of my neck in a way that could look platonic, except his fingers find their way past my hair to linger against my skin. “Hey, Aggie. Did rescue call with an update on the Lannerds?”

“They’re taking them to Anchorage now,” Agnes confirms. “Apparently, they got disoriented in the fog, and then Mr. Lannerd slid down a washed-out slope and broke his leg. Lost his sat phone in the tumble.”

Jonah snorts. “That’s an anniversary trip they’ll never forget.”

“Oh my God.” Another wave of relief swarms over me. “What if we hadn’t done that second pass?” What if Jonah hadn’t thought to look where we did? He could have been out there with a broken leg for days.

“Feels pretty good helping people in trouble, huh?” Jonah’s gaze searches the plane lot. “Where’s Wren? Might as well get his licks in on me now.”

Agnes’s brow tightens. “Yeah, I . . .” Not until she turns those steady eyes on me do I finally see the pain and sadness that overwhelms them.

I hold my breath as I push through the door.

“Look who made it back,” my dad murmurs, his voice groggy and weak. I’ve only ever seen him in his jeans and layers of flannel. He looks so different, lying there in his hospital gown.

So frail and vulnerable.

Mabel’s in a chair next to him, her legs pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her eyes are red and puffy, with the stunned glaze of someone who sat down to watch a comedy, only to have the curtain pulled back and discover she’s about to witness a horror.

They’ve finally told her about the cancer. I find no relief in that, though it was time anyway. She’d wonder why he wasn’t home in the evening for their checkers games.

“Time to go now, Mabel,” Agnes calls from the door.

She doesn’t move.

My dad gives her an encouraging smile. “I’ll be out of here soon.”

“Promise?” she asks, her voice so feeble and childlike, and unlike her.

“Promise, kiddo.”

Unfolding slowly, reluctantly, she climbs out of her seat, her dusty sneakers leaving bits of dirt. She leans in to give him a hug.

“Careful, Mabel,” Agnes warns.

With a quiet nod, she moves to dart past Jonah and me, flashing me a look that is full of sorrow and youthful resentment. She’s figured out why I really came to Alaska and she’s not one bit happy that I kept her in the dark.

“Hey,” Jonah calls out, as she tries weaseling past him. He reaches out and grabs hold of her before she has the chance to get away, effortlessly pulling her against his chest in a hug. She doesn’t struggle, instead bowing her head and burying her face in his jacket. A single sob ratchets up from her lungs and it makes the already painful ball in my throat swell instantly.

Jonah quietly strokes the back of her long, dark hair with his hand for a few moments, and then with a deep exhale, murmurs softly, “’Kay, go with your mom, kiddo.”

They leave, and now it’s just the three of us.

My dad’s gray eyes skitter back and forth between us, before settling on me. “So, Calla? First night stranded in the mountains. How was it?”

“It could have been a lot worse, I guess,” I admit.

“You two stayed at the safety cabin? I’ll bet you’ve never stayed anywhere like that before.”

“No, I haven’t.” And it’s the absolute last thing I want to talk about right now, but I can tell my dad’s trying to avoid dealing with the current situation for just a little while longer.

“Barbie had it pretty damn good, I’d say.” Jonah chuckles.

I shoot him a glare, even as my cheeks flush. “Aside from the mediocre company. I’m looking forward to a hot shower and real food. I’m maxed out on beef jerky.” Who am I kidding? My appetite has vanished.

“Beef jerky?” My dad glances at Jonah, his eyes narrowing curiously.

“From Ethel,” Jonah explains. “Her homemade stuff. Calla liked it.”

“Well . . . that’s good.” My dad lets out a soft cough and then winces.

“Does it hurt?” I look down at his chest, wondering where exactly the doctors stuck that long needle in. The one that drained the fluid that’s been building up in his lungs, that had him wheezing last night.

“It’s actually a lot better than it has been the last couple of days. They’ve got me on some good drugs.”

Despair hits me in a wave. He’s been suffering for days? “Why didn’t you say something—”

“Nah.” He gives me a resigned smile, waving it off. The hospital bracelet slides down his forearm.

“I’m sorry. We should have been there. But the rain and then the fog . . . Jonah said we couldn’t fly.” My eyes begin to burn with tears. It’s all true, and yet I can’t help but ache with guilt for how we spent the night and morning while this was going on.

“If Jonah said you couldn’t, then I know you couldn’t. Besides, I told Agnes not to say anything if he called in. I didn’t want him taking any unnecessary risks to get here sooner. Don’t worry, it’s nothing. Just a complication. Wasn’t even that serious. I’ll be out in a day or two.”