Page 76 of Nothing But Air

“Eden’s probably focused on the climb.” Meg kept her voice gentle. “She’s with Teague. They’ll check in when they can. Are you sure you have the right channel?”

“I think so, but this equipment is too old. Half of it’s outdated. Eden always kept it running, but I don’t know her tricks?—”

Noah stared at the silent radio as if he could will it to life through sheer concentration. “That’s why she should be here, not me. She would know what to do. I shouldn’t have let her go down there.”

Let her?

“You didn’t let her do anything.” Meg turned to face him, catching his sleeve. “Eden made her own choice.”

“I could have said no. Could have told Virgil it was a bad idea.” He ran his hand through that shaggy mop of sun-bleached hair.

“Noah.” Meg caught his hand.

His fingers were warm. Calloused. They curled around hers instinctively.

“Sit.” She pointed to a chair. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“You’re hyperventilating in slow motion. There’s a difference.”

His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. But at least he took a seat. “That’s not a real medical term.”

“I have a medical degree. I can make up terms if I want.”

This time the smile actually appeared—brief, but real.

“It’ll be fine.” She ran her free hand over his soft hair.

He let out a long breath but didn’t look convinced. Didn’t let go of her hand either.

Progress.

Meg studied the dispatch setup—radios that looked like they’d survived a half dozen presidential administrations, satellite phones with cracked screens, mapping equipment that belonged in a museum.

“What’s the plan for the money once it’s found?” She leaned against the desk. “Four million in gold. That could make a real difference.”

“If we get to keep it all.” Noah finally looked away from the radio, his deep-brown eyes meeting hers. “There’ll be legal battles. The federal government will probably claim most of it.”

“What would you do with it? What’s your biggest dream if money wasn’t an issue?”

“Buy a second helicopter.”

No hesitation. Like he’d been thinking about it for years.

“Having only one bird means when it’s down for maintenance, we’re stuck.” Frustration edged into his voice. “People die waiting for rescue that’s too far away.”

The weight of those words settled between them. He wasn’t talking hypothetically. He’d watched it happen.

“How much would that cost?”

“A good SAR helicopter?” His expression darkened. “Close to ten million. Maybe more.”

More than double what Roosevelt’s cache was worth.

“So that’s out.” She squeezed his hand. “Maybe we settle for the second-biggest dream.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his face.