“On three.” He counted down.
Two people moving the heavy structure was definitely easier than just herself. The hawker powered up before they’d moved out of the way, making her ears hurt from the engine. She and Gunnar got the stairs against the building in time for her to turn and watch the plane rocket down the strip.
Hopefully, the man wouldn’t be so upset his ploy didn’t work that he sabotaged them. Just the thought made her pulse beat in her throat. She’d have to check all the supplies again just to make sure. She rolled her shoulders at the exhaustion already settling in with the amount of work and time that would take.
“I think I’ll check our supplies tonight after they’re unloaded.” Gunnar sighed, his voice heavy. “I don’t trust that man.”
“I’ll help. I was thinking the same thing.” She glanced to the south. The sky darkened more with each second that passed. “Thanks for contacting your friend. If we don’t make it before this storm hits, we’ll be stuck here for at least three, maybe four days.”
“You’re welcome.” He opened his mouth to say something more, then snapped it shut and went to the pile of supplies.
Forty-five minutes later, she climbed into Gunnar’s friend’s plane, double-checking the straps holding the crates and boxes down, and sat in the far seat with a sigh. The wind had picked up, but Gunnar’s friend had assured her taking off wouldn’t be a problem. Gunnar groaned as he climbed into the seat next to her.
“We made it.” She sent him a genuine smile as relief rushed through her.
“I knew we would.” He rolled his head to her as it rested on his seat. “We make a good team.”
Her smile faltered, but she pressed it back into place as she gave him a nod. She turned her gaze out the window as the plane taxied down the runway, her face falling as sorrow replaced relief. They did make a good team, always had. Too bad it wouldn’t last.