Forever Never

Cleetus trotted out of the stables, and Brick steered him toward the center of the island. A missing person report was never fun. In the summer, at least they had the weather on their side. Today, the snow was just beginning again, and the wind had a mean bite to it.

When the call had come in, he’d headed off to the stables to saddle up Cleetus. They’d attack the search coordinates on foot, snowmobile, and horseback to cover the most ground.

He nudged his mount into a lumbering trot up the road.

The department SUV and ambulance were parked in front of the Kleckner house when he got there as well as a half dozen snowmobiles.

There was a buzz on the scene. Emergencies always had a kind of frenetic energy to them. But it was worse when it was one of their own.

He urged Cleetus around the side of the house to the backyard, where he found Chief Ford and the rest of the crew hunched over a table with a map of the island. Volunteers were arriving on foot and joining the planning session.

Lois Kleckner, cheeks and nose bright red, huddled to the side in a parka. She spotted him and came running.

“Awful glad to have you here, Brick,” she said, wringing her hands.

“We’ll bring him back, Lois. We’ll find him,” he promised.

“Listen. Remi Ford was visiting when I realized Ben wasn’t in the bedroom. She went after him.”

His fingers tightened on the reins. “How long ago?” he demanded.

“Maybe ten minutes?”

The trouble that woman could get into in ten minutes was immeasurable.

“She took the snowmobile out before everyone else got here. I tried to get her to stay put until everyone else got here, but you know Remi.”

“I know Remi,” he agreed through the tightness in his throat. “What was she wearing?” He hoped to God the woman had at least remembered to put on fucking pants before charging out into a snowstorm.

“Bright yellow coat. Sweatpants. Fuzzy hat,” Lois said, waving a hand around her own head. “One of the skis on the Cat is a little loose. I haven’t had time to get it into the shop. I’m worried it might give her some trouble—”

“We’ll find them both,” he promised her.

“Brick.”

He rode over to where Chief Ford was checking radios and cordoning off sectors on the map.

“Chief.”

“I just checked my voicemails. Had one from Remi.” Her tone was neutral as always. Darlene was a rock at all times. But he saw the flash of worry in her green eyes. “Said she was going out looking for Ben.”

He nodded. “Mrs. Kleckner just told me.”

“She’s not answering her phone now,” Darlene told him.

His fingers flexed on the reins. He needed to be out there now. Searching. Remi hadn’t been through a winter on Mackinac in a long time. Long enough to forget how quickly weather conditions could change. How Mother Nature could take things from bad to worse on a whim.

“I’m gonna head out now. It looks like she followed his tracks onto the trail, so I’ll see if I can come in from the other end, just in case Ben wandered into the neighborhood at the end of the switchback.”

Darlene gave a brisk nod and handed him a portable radio. “Bring her back in one piece.”

“Will do.”

He didn’t wait for the briefing or the assignments, simply nudged his mount into a trot as fat flakes of snow began to fall.

He was a cop. He’d dealt with missing people. With medical emergencies. With accidents. None of this was new. But the fact that it was Remi out there, not answering her fucking phone? Something worse than the cold was creeping into his gut. Fear.

Remi was out there somewhere. And she wasn’t answering her phone. He dialed again and listened impatiently as it rang through to voicemail.

Brick gave Cleetus a kick behind the ribs and urged his horse faster. With no sign of any recent traffic, he headed up the hill and picked up Remi’s trail from an offshoot.

Irresponsible.

Reckless.

Rash.

He was going to lecture her until he ran out of words and breath. Then he’d start all over the next day.

Cleetus picked his way carefully up the trailhead, and Brick found himself in a winter wonderland. The trees were covered in fresh powder. There were no tracks here. Either she’d veered off the trail or the wind had erased her tracks. He couldn’t hear anything besides the creak of his saddle, the steady plod of Cleetus’s hooves.

For once, he wished he was on a machine, flying over the snow to get to her. Of course, he no longer had a snowmobile, thanks to her and his irresponsible, reckless, rash brother… He’d yell at her about that, too, as soon as he found her.

His heart skipped a beat when he spotted them. Tracks here. Faint ones. Parallel lines. But no sign of Ben’s prints. He radioed the find back to the chief and pressed on.

“Remi!” he called. His voice rang out harshly in the wild. “Ben!”

There was no answer. He tried her phone again with the same result.

He needed to hold on to his anger to keep the fear at bay.

She hadn’t called him. Just like she said she wouldn’t. Brick hadn’t believed it. Not really. He was who she always called. He was the one who always fixed it.

The idea that he’d lost that place in her life was…crushing.

This was exactly what he’d thought he wanted. Well, not the missing in the fucking woods in the dead of winter part. But he’d assumed his life would be so much easier if Remington Ford didn’t need him anymore. He just hadn’t realized what not being needed would do to him.

“Remi!” he shouted again, the cold air biting at his throat.

Cold and exertion were bad for asthma. She better have at least thought to take her inhaler with her.

He urged Cleetus to pick up the pace as the trail opened up again. The tracks were still intact here. He noted an indentation on the side of the trail. Like someone had fallen or sat down. The tracks paused there, then started again.

“Come on, buddy,” he said to the horse. “We’re getting close, aren’t we?”

The horse’s ears perked up.

Brick listened for a minute, then called again.

There was nothing but silence, so he pressed on. Nothing but snow and trees and rocks spreading out before him. “Remington!” he bellowed.

He almost didn’t hear it. Almost missed it. But it caught his ear, and Cleetus shuddered under him.

“Help!”

It was so faint, he couldn’t tell if it was Ben or Remi.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Remi? I’m coming!”

This time, the cry was a little louder. He kicked Cleetus into a jog and followed the tracks. He spotted her turn off the trail into the woods and urged his mount to follow.

“Ben! Remi!”

“Down here,” came the reedy cry.

He maneuvered around an outcropping of rocks, and that’s when he spotted the mangled snowmobile on its side. Half of one ski was embedded straight up in the snow. His heart nearly stopped then. That bright splash of yellow against the sea of white.

He didn’t even realize he’d nudged Cleetus into a run until they were bolting into the clearing.

“Remi? Baby. Are you hurt?” He dismounted and strode toward her. The foot of snow barely slowed his progress.

“Ugh,” she groaned from against a boulder. “Only my…pride.” The wheeze in her voice scared the life out of him.

She climbed to her feet slowly as he approached. She had a scrape on her forehead that was bleeding. One on her chin, too. But she was alive.

“Why did it…have to be you?” she grumbled.

“Where’s your inhaler? And where’s your fucking phone?”

“Language, young man,” Ben barked. The man was bundled in a winter jacket and blanket, wearing Remi’s hat and eating fucking cookies out of a Ziploc bag.

Remi, on the other hand, was wheezing like a deflating bagpipe.

He patted her pockets and found four hair ties, a phone charger, and a wad of tissues.

“Where’s your fucking inhaler?” he demanded.

“Forgot it,” she said. The strain it took her to force out the words caught him by the throat.

“Sit the hell down and stay there,” he ordered, pushing her back to the ground. Keeping her in his line of sight in case the woman somehow managed to start an avalanche or spontaneously catch fire, he moved over to examine Ben and pulled out his radio.

“Both victims found safe,” he reported.

“Thank fucking God,” Chief Ford responded. “What’s your location?”

Brick gave the coordinates while watching Remi’s chest rise and fall through labored breaths.

He spent the next three minutes glaring at her while he waited for the EMTs to arrive.

“Here comes the parade,” Ben said cheerfully as three snowmobiles broke through the trees and raced toward them.

Brick stomped over to meet them and grabbed the paramedic. “Got a bronchodilator on you?”

Edison McDonough, island native and twenty-year emergency medicine veteran, had red hair going gray that peeked out from under a thick ski cap. He glanced in Remi’s direction and reached into one of the dozen pockets of his bag.

Brick fought the urge to snatch it from the man’s hands and shove it into Remi’s mouth himself to put an end to her torture…and his. There was a protocol to be observed. Rules that existed for a reason.

“You check out, Mr. Kleckner,” Edison told Keisha, the other EMT. “I’ll deal with Chief’s kid.”

“You got it,” Keisha said, grabbing her bag off the back and heading for Ben. “You got any cookies for me, Mr. Kleckner?”

“Remi Ford. Still getting in trouble, I see,” Edison teased, kneeling down in front of her.

Brick positioned himself at her back, standing guard.

She wheezed out a laugh. “You know me. Always…dying to be…the center…of attention.”

“Can we hurry this along?” Brick snarled, ignoring the looks they both shot him.

“Well, since I’m here.” Edison pulled his stethoscope out from under his coat.

“Is Mr. Kleckner…okay?” she asked, peering over the paramedic’s shoulder to where Keisha was coaxing Ben onto a sled behind one of the snowmobiles.

“He looks good,” Edison said. “It’s a good thing you found him when you did. You kept him warm and awake. Could have been a lot worse.”

Brick doubted that she was aware of doing it, but Remi had sagged back against his legs. It helped loosen the tightness in his chest.

“Is this any worse than previous attacks?”

“Ha. Walk…in the park,” she joked. But her labored breathing was like razor blades in Brick’s gut.

“Don’t have your rescue inhaler on you?” the paramedic asked, as if it wasn’t colossally irresponsible of her not to be carrying it. Brick’s fingers curled into fists. There was a time for bedside manner and there was a time to lay down the law.

Her shoulders tensed, and she shook her head. “I didn’t bring it. I’m…fine,” she insisted. “I can wait…until I…get back.”

Brick met Edison’s eyes and shook his head.

“All the same to you, Remi,” Edison said. “I’d sure feel better if you’d let me treat you here. You don’t want me having to face the wrath of your mom, now do you?”

“She is…terrifying,” she agreed weakly.

“Then let’s get some albuterol in you, and we’ll go from there. It’s too bad you don’t have your rescue inhaler on you,” he said, pulling a nebulizer out of his bag.

“Ah, shit,” Remi croaked, pressing her hands into her knees.

“You know the drill,” Edison said.

The paramedic left Brick to supervise Remi while he checked on Ben’s condition. Brick stayed where he was, supporting her from behind as she took slow breaths that fogged the mask. He couldn’t seem to stop his own fingers from toying with her hair. She’d pulled it back in a long tail at the base of her neck.

In less than five minutes, her breathing was easier, and she ripped off the mask.

“Remi, I swear to God if you don’t—”

“How’s my other favorite patient?” Edison interrupted. He took out his stethoscope again and listened to her chest. “You’re going to need to get looked over by the doc. And it’s a real small island, so I’m gonna know if you don’t go straight there.”

“She’ll go,” Brick promised.

She looked up at him and frowned. He gave her hair a tug.

With Ben swaddled in thermal blankets and strapped to a sled, Brick gave the signal, and the EMTs packed up.

“We’re set to head out. Want a ride, Remi?” Edison offered, patting the back of his snowmobile. “I can take you straight to the med center.”

“She’s riding with me,” Brick snapped.

The paramedic threw him a salute and started up his machine.

Remi hadn’t argued with him, which added concern to his roiling temper. He boosted her onto Cleetus’s back with a hand on her ass.

“You need a keeper,” he said, climbing up behind her.

“We both know…you’re not volunteering,” she shot back through chattering teeth. She was holding herself stiffly away from him, shivering in the thermal blanket they’d given her since her coat was soaked through.

With quick, mean moves, he yanked her blanket away, opened his own parka, and yanked her back against his chest. He spread the blanket in front of her and clenched his jaw as she wriggled the soft curves of her ass against his already aching dick. The madder he got at her, the harder he got for her. Needing to discipline her was a sickness swimming in his blood.

She tried to pull away from him, and in the ensuing struggle, her sweater slid higher. He couldn’t stop himself from splaying one hand over her now bare stomach.

“Hold the fuck still,” he ordered as he spread the thermal blanket around her.

He tried not to think about his thumb’s discovery that the infuriating woman against him was not wearing a bra. There was nothing between his thumb and the soft underside of her left breast. Just full, silky flesh begging to be squeezed, sucked. His pinky finger was wedged an inch into the waistband of her sweatpants.

He kicked the horse into motion and gritted his teeth. The slow roll of the saddle added a constant friction between Remi’s sweet, round ass and his granite erection. Heaven and hell intertwined as he finally learned what she’d feel like under his hands.

They broke out of the trees minutes later into civilization.

“Where are we going?” she asked when he guided Cleetus away from downtown and the health center.

“We’re going to your place to get your rescue inhaler and the rest of your prescriptions. Then I’m taking you to the med center and telling the doctor to lecture you until you actually listen.”

“I don’t need your…assistance,” she sniped weakly. “I can do all that…myself.”

“Yeah. Sounds like you could run a lap around the island right now, too. Would you rather I dropped you off at the Kleckners so your mom can give you that scary look of hers?”

“No,” she said sullenly.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked in her ear.

“I’m fine.”

They lapsed into silence. Her heart thumped steadily against his palm, and her skin gradually began to warm under his touch.

The snow fell harder now. Fat flakes floating from the sky, blotting out the horizon as Cleetus picked his way down the road.

“I swear to Christ, if you ever leave your house without your inhaler again, I’m going to lock you up.”

“If my recollection serves, I didn’t call you. This isn’t your problem.”

She sounded stronger at least, but of course it was because she was fighting him.

“You didn’t call, but I came anyway. That’s the way this works. You will always be my problem.”

For some goddamn ridiculous female reason, his answer had her relaxing against him. He could spend a lifetime studying Remi and knew she still wouldn’t make any damn sense to him. But he had bigger problems to deal with now. With her new relaxed position, his thumb wasn’t just brushing her breast, it was pinned under it.

“You couldn’t throw on a bra and put your inhaler in your coat, could you?” he muttered.

He winced when she shifted against him. She had to feel how fucking hard he was for her with his cock wedged up against her ass like that. Every rock of the saddle was a new level of hell for him.

“No one told you to put your damn hand up my shirt,” she reminded him. She sounded better, brighter, perkier.

“I don’t hear you asking me to remove it,” he shot back.

“I didn’t ask you to remove your hard-on from my ass either. I’m too polite.”

“Jesus, Remi.”

But when he made a move to drag his hand away, she held it in place. “Don’t,” she whispered.

“Why not?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“It makes me feel safe. Okay?”

They were literally the only words that could have kept his hand where it lay, and she goddamn knew it.

She gave his hand a little squeeze through her shirt before dropping it.

On an icy breath, he tested them both. Brick slipped his palm a little higher until his thumb and index finger cupped the underside of her breast.

When he began to rub tiny, gentle strokes into that soft, warm flesh, she melted against him and let out a little sigh.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she said suddenly.

“No. It doesn’t,” he agreed. But it did mean he was going to savor these minutes, these touches. Because this was as far as it would ever go.