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“We’re two minutes from the sandbar,” he said into her headphones.

Dragonflies zipped in her belly, making her more nauseous than the bucking plane. She gave a thumbs up and turned the camera back on.

“Okay, folks. The handsome pilot tells me we’re getting close. Why don’t you help me look for the sandbar we’ll be landing on?” She pointed the lens out the windshield. “Up here, there aren’t any landing strips, but thankfully, I’ve got the best bush pilot in Alaska. As long as there aren’t any big obstacles on the sandbar, he’ll be able to slide right down like Alaskan’s own Nathan Blaine into home plate.”

Tiikâan groaned. “He’s a hockey player, Sunny, not baseball.”

“Eh, whatever. He slides around, doesn’t he?”

Her brother shook his head, not realizing she’d aimed the camera at him to see his reaction to her intentional mistake. “Yeah, but you can’t be using the wrong sports terminology if you’re going to throw it out there like that.”

“He’s Alaskan, a sports icon, and hot. Besides, you know I don’t watch TV.”

“Then how do you even know about him?” Tiikâan’s exasperation built, and Sunny almost broke the joke by laughing.

“Well, he’s Sawyer’s dad and since Sawyer is about to be part of our family when Bjørn marries Sadie, I had to see what the buzz was about.”

The Wilde family that Sunny’s brother Bjørn was marrying into had lots of layers she was still learning. So far, she’d liked them all, but the fact that the famous hockey player was somehow connected had gotten her investigation skills going.

“That is so confusing, you know that, right?” Tiikâan glanced over at her.

Not able to hold her laughter in anymore, she bent over in a belly laugh that felt way too good. What a perfect way to start this trip.

“Real mature.” Her brother rolled his eyes.

“Real gullible,” she countered, and refocused on scanning for the sandbar.

They flew up the creek winding among the terrain like a river otter’s trail through snow. Instead of the trail being clear, the water was the color of chocolate milk. The clouds had dropped a ton of rain for it to look that way, especially how it foamed along the banks.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t crossing many creeks anyway,” she whispered under her breath when trepidation threatened to make her turn home with her tail tucked between her legs.

“Ah… Houston, we have a problem.” Tiikâan’s voice in her headset startled her with a jerk.

“What?”

“The sandbar’s flooded.” He pointed out the window to the gentle curve in the creek.

Chocolate river rushed where the perfect landing spot used to be. She puffed her cheeks full with frustrated air. It was fine. They’d just go to Plan B.

“Let’s head to that lake we marked on the GPS.” She flipped the camera and smiled. “This is why it’s good to have an alternate route in place, people! And it helps when your fantabulous pilot has floats.”

“You sure?” Tiikâan peeked over at her.

“That you are fantabulous? Yeppers.”

“No, that you still want to go?” Worry laced his response.

“Absolutely.”

She couldn’t afford to hesitate. If she did, she might never come back—might just take the carrot of a guiding job the climbing charter in Denali had offered her. She didn’t want to walk the easy road anymore, taking opportunities that were comfortable. She wanted to blaze trails, which meant she couldn’t let fear and solitude break her.


Tags: Sara Blackard Alaskan Rebels Romance