She could feel Dakota’s smile.
“Nothing mean. Good scents. Interesting scents. ‘Can you figure out what this reminds me of?’ scents.”
“Mmm.” He tucked her under his chin and dropped a kiss.
“I want him to point his finger so my eye sees what he sees and when I don’t know what he’s pointing at,” Rylee wrapped her hands over his forearm to hug him to her, “I want him to draw me into his arms, hold me against his chest so I’m looking out from his viewpoint, and he leans in and whispers, ‘There just over the breaker, the sun is going to disappear in three, two, ahhh.”
He stilled.
“I want to share all the sights and sounds and scents, the sensations that weave our imaginations and our stories together to form a whole cloth under which we can wrap ourselves on cold nights and say, ‘Remember that sunset?’ and we are both back there in the moment.”
“A whole life of that,” Dakota’s voice was a warm rumble.
“It takes a long time to build what I want.”
“Worth it, though,” Dakota said.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I think so. Into the sunset.”
“It’s glorious. I’d like to watch it with my someone.”
“Me too. The right person at the right time.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rylee
Sunday
As soon as the plane landed, Cerberus Bravo was in motion. Packs on their shoulders, tools in their hands, booties to protect their dogs’ paws, they jumped into the backs of three pickup trucks that waited for them then raced the team toward the hotel that had collapsed around their protectees.
Good job, Iniquus Logistics, that flowed like water.
That was the standard that WorldCares strived for. Every minute of delay could cost a precious life.
Bravo asked that WorldCares clear their gear and supplies out of the plane because Cerberus would camp in the passenger area and set up their first aid station there. And the pilot and staff would remain with the plane throughout. If they needed to conduct an emergency evacuation to save a life, they would take off without hesitation or warning.
As WorldCares got busy setting up the tents and moving supplies, an elder who could speak Arabic wandered over to speak to Rylee. He said that he helped staff the tiny airport and wanted to let the responders know their building had some cracks, but was holding up. The rescuers were welcome to use the toilets and showers they had available.
Another pickup pulled forward. This one held the local leader who would take George, Quebec’s tactical lead, out to get a visual of the situation and make plans aligned with the locals’ needs and wants.
WorldCares didn’t show up to step on toes.
They were there to put their expertise to work.
And because volunteers—who always arrived, desperate to help save their friends and loved ones, their fellow villagers—didn’t always know what to do, there was usually an educational component. Sometimes, the best of intentions could lead to complications or further disaster.
Before they landed, George had come back to her area of the plane to ask Rylee not to help. They had a system, they had roles as a team, and even something as simple as opening a box could mess things up. “Glad to have you observe and take notes.”
“But stay out of your way,” Rylee said.
“There is actually a way to free someone up to be able to sleep, and that’s to stay in the supply tent. Boring as hell, I warn you. I also warn you not to move or rearrange anything in a way you think would be more efficient. It’s already efficient because everything is in the same spot, it always is.”
“I get that,” Rylee said. “Hands off. Twiddling my thumbs. What about when I need to sleep?”
“Tie down the flaps and sleep across the entrance. That’s not to say you won’t be woken up. If we’ve made contact with someone in the rubble, we’re not asking them to wait until we have a good snooze before we dig them out in the morning. We keep going.”
Dakota had accepted her offer that he and Tank sleep in the supply tent with her. Rylee figured that Tank would alert her to anyone trying to sneak in and stick some counterfeit bills in her pack.
