PROLOGUE
Cade MacAllister stood braced on the rock ledge just
beneath the summit of the Andean peak. The shot he knew was
there would come once the cloudbank drifted just a little
more. The way the wind had suddenly gusted, it wouldn't be
long.
He leaned out, camera still tight against his eye, his
core muscles locked, his weight balanced on a razor's edge.
Pebbles showered down the steep grade, and he shifted
quickly to regain balance.
He was cold and tired and hungry.
But he was happy as hell. It was shots like this that
had made his soaring career, the ones that required guts
and steel nerves, a keen eye that saw beyond the expected,
that landed the viewer into the unimagined.
"Cade."
"Yeah?" He never looked away from the viewfinder.
"I've got to climb to the east or my shadow will fall on
your shot in a minute."
"Thanks, man." His friend and guide, Jaime, was the best
for many reasons, but this was one of them. They'd first
worked together nearly ten years ago, and Cade relied not
only on Jaime's climbing skills—which exceeded Cade's
own quite competent ones—but his ability to be
present, always waiting to help without spoiling the mood
Cade was caught in. Jaime understood Cade and his passion
as few ever had.
If Jaime weren't happily married and father of three,
Cade would never accept an assignment without him. But a
life of constant travel, while perfectly suited to Cade,
wasn't for everyone and definitely not for a man with a
family.
"I've played out the rope a little," Jaime said
quietly. "Brace yourself, and I'll be done in two minutes."
Cade didn't—couldn't—let go of the camera or
take his eye off the scene. He was close, so close... He
braced his legs. "Go," he said to Jaime, only wanting it
over with. Now...now...
There. He had it. One, two, four more shots in rapid
succession, though he knew in his gut the first one was
perfect—
Abruptly the wind roared, whipped him around, jerked him
off-balance.
The mountain rained down.
"Jaime—" But he knew what was happening. What
could happen to both of them.
By instinct, Cade shoved his camera inside his jacket
even as he grappled for a handhold. He didn't need anyone
to tell him the situation was bad. "Jaime!" His eyes teared
against the bitter wind, and he blinked furiously, trying
to make out his friend.
A muffled shout to his left. The thunder of rattling
stones roaring louder and louder...Cade watched in horror
as Jaime tumbled like a slow motion puppet, out of his
reach. Cade stretched toward him, too late, too late—
Shouting, cursing, scrambling—
A savage gust knocked Cade off his feet, yet he fought
to cross the distance even as Jaime vanished over the
edge. "No!" he screamed as his world turned on end.
Pain exploded.
Then...nothing.
* * *
A hand lay quietly on his arm. Voices murmured. Machines
beeped.
Cade struggled upward through the thick tar of darkness.
Cold trapped him, no light, no...
"Look," a deep male voice said. "Did he just frown?"
Where was he? Who... "Unh..."
A gasp. "Sweetheart? Cade? Talk to us." The hand stroked
his skin. "You're fine, honey. Just open your eyes."
His lids were so heavy...his body weighted by concrete...
"Son, you're safe. You've been hurt, but you'll be
okay." The man's voice was familiar in his bones, but worry
crackled beneath the words.
He turned his head toward the voices until needle-sharp
pain seized him.
"Don't move, sweetheart. You're all right. Just
don't...please lie still." The woman again, only now he
could see her in his mind's eye, the face of love.
"M..." His throat was dust-dry. He tried again. "Mom?"
he croaked.
A cheer rose, several voices. "Yes, oh, sweetheart,
yes—" His mother's voice was thick with
tears. "You're in a hospital. You've been hurt, but you're
going to be all right." Determination laced through her
fear, and he tried to remember, but his thoughts darted
away like silvery minnows...
"Rest easy, son," said the man he realized was his
father. A large hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "We've
sent for the doctor to tell him you're awake at last."
Gruff with emotion, his father's voice pulled Cade through
the unrelenting agony sucking him back down...down....
Cade forced his eyes open, blinked once...twice...
Figures swam in and out of focus. Other men—his
brothers, he realized, Zane, Diego and Jesse—and the
fierce angel face of his sister Jenna crowded around the
bed.
"What...happened?"
His mother put a straw to his lips, and the cool grace
of water slid down his parched throat.
Then he realized that both his always-composed mother
and the dad who was the bulwark of a whole family were
crying.
"How bad is it?"
His mother's lips pressed into a tight line, and his
father's eyes spoke of worry. "You'll be fine. You had a
climbing accident, but you're going to make it, I swear.
Thank God you've come back to us."
But in that way of souls who've skimmed the edge of
death, Cade knew it had been close.
And he wasn't done yet.
"Tired..." He couldn't keep his eyes from closing. Then
he stirred. "Jaime—"
Oh, God. He struggled upward again, hazy vision
blanketing him with despair. His fingers flexed weakly at
the memory of fear...failure...
Grasping....searching...losing.... "I have to…"
"Sleep, son" his dad ordered. "We're here. We won't
leave you." Strong, reassuring fingers squeezed his
shoulder.
Cade gave up the struggle and let sleep take him.