"Beau…" But I never get to finish that thought as we emerge from the treeline and joyful chaos greets us.
Paramedics rush forward, rangers shouting instructions about clearing vehicles from the exit so they can get the ambulance in, and somewhere behind the wall of emergency vehicles, volunteers clap and whoop.
A paramedic meets us at the edge of the clearing. Beau murmurs to Ivy as he transfers her, slow and easy, with one big hand staying at her back until she's settled on the stretcher. She whimpers but lets him go, eyes tracking him as the medic wraps her in a foil blanket and begins the assessment.
Her parents arrive seconds later, and the mother's grateful cries when she sees her daughter sitting up, alive and blinking at the lights, is the most beautiful and devastating sound I've ever heard. She runs to the stretcher and gathers Ivy up, her whole body shaking as she curls around her.
The father grabs Beau's hand with both of his and holds on, unable to speak, tears streaming into his beard, before finally throwing his arms around him in a bear hug. Beau lets the dad hold onto him for as long as he needs before the man gives him an emotional nod and turns back to wrap his family up in a tight embrace.
Drifting away quietly, I watch from a few metres back, arms folded, throat tight. Then, with a nod and a small wave to Ivy before he leaves, Beau is walking toward me with two paper cups in one hand and a foil-wrapped sandwich in the other.
"From the volunteer table," he says, holding them out. "When did you eat last?"
I take the tea. My fingers are so cold, I can barely feel the cup, and the heat seeping through the paper makes my eyes prick.
"I had a protein bar."
"That's what I thought. Probably hours ago." He pushes the sandwich at me. "Eat."
It's nothing fancy, just ham and cheese, the bread already going stale at the edges, but I take a bite because he's watching me. And then another bite because I'm starving, and by the third, I'm trying not to shove the entire thing into my mouth in one go.
Beau comes to stand beside me, leaning back against my hood, and we watch, exhausted, as the medics rig a heat blanket, while Ivy, filthy but alive, reaches for her mum with a watery smile.
Something in me cracks.
Before I think about it, I'm reaching for Beau's hand. I squeeze it hard, once, and when he turns to look at me in surprise, eyebrows lifting, I throw my arms around his neck.
He goes still for a half-second. Then his free arm comes up around my back, and when he pulls me into him properly, I let myself rest my forehead against his collar, breathing in his comforting scent for as long as I can get away with.
"You did good," I say into his shirt, now wet with tears.
"We,” he corrects, but I shake my head. He found her. We both know that.
I hold on a moment longer, then I make myself step back before it gets weird. Feeling his eyes on my face, it might be too late for that.
"Where's your truck?" I ask, fumbling in my jacket for my keys so I don't have to look directly at him.
He pauses, shifts his weight from foot to foot, and crosses his arms over his broad chest while he considers me. "End of the logging road, six miles north."
So tired I can barely stand, I don’t ask him how he’s trekked six miles on foot through the woods as I gesture to my car. "If you want a lift, get in. I'll drop you now."
He hesitates but then he gives me a short nod and walks around to the passenger side. Opening the driver’s door, I remove my holster and the radio, drop them into the console, then slide behind the steering wheel.
Beau folds himself into my car, knees almost to the dashboard, and pulls the door shut. The interior light winks off, and we're left in the dim glow from the dashboard. I twist the key in the ignition and pull out onto the dark road, trying to ignore my hammering heart and how just being in his presence has every cell in my body lighting up.
As I pull out of the packed car park, the headlights cut a tunnel through the forest with heavy rain now coming down in sheets.
The volume is low on Sheridan’s radio, the chatter just background noise, but it’s the only sound breaking the weighted silence between us. Until now.
"Sheridan, you there? Pick up."
A pause. Then another voice. "Probably already tucked up in bed. Lucky bastard."
“He won’t be happy when he finds out she found her. No medal for him after leaving early.” A laugh from somewhere else. "Speak of the she-devil. Wonder where Harris is right now."
Beside me, Beau tenses, his eyes sliding to mine, but I ignore him, praying he can’t see the flush creeping up my neck as we’re forced to listen to them continue mocking me.
"Where do you think? She sure as hell wasn’t going to hang around and socialise with us. Probably getting the staff to draw her a bath in the left wing." Another laugh.
