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Endorsements

Praise for The Way of the Brave

“The Way of the Brave grabbed me at the first chapter and never let go. Susan May Warren is a master storyteller, creating strong, confident, and compassionate characters. This book is no different.”

Rachel Hauck, New York Times bestselling author of The Wedding Dress and The Memory House

“The first in Warren’s Global Search and Rescue series combines high-adrenaline thrills and a sweet romance. Perfect for fans of Dee Henderson and Irene Hannon.”

Booklist

“Warren lays the foundation of a promising faith-influenced series with this exciting outing.”

Publishers Weekly

Praise for The Heart of a Hero

“Susan May Warren whips up a maelstrom of action that slams Jake and Aria together and keeps the pages turning. Twists, turns, and constant danger keep you wondering whether this superb cast of characters can ride out the storm.”

James R. Hannibal, multi–award-winning author of Chasing the White Lion

“Warren keeps readers in suspense throughout a Category 5 hurricane and its perilous aftermath with harrowing details. Amid the chaos of this natural disaster, the characters’ understanding of heroism is underscored by Christian messages of self-forgiveness, grace, and sacrifice.”

Booklist

“The Heart of a Hero by Susan May Warren was perfectly woven in a way that had me never wanting to leave the book.”

Urban Lit Magazine

Praise for The Price of Valor

“Warren continues her Global Search and Rescue series with this enjoyable thriller about a high-stakes rescue mission during a devastating catastrophe. Warren’s fans will enjoy this.”

Publishers Weekly

“The Global Search and Rescue series by Susan May Warren has been a rip-roaring, action-packed, suspense-filled crazy ride, and The Price of Valor is the nail-biting conclusion that wraps it all up.”

Interviews & Reviews

“Susan May Warren brings all our favorites from the Global Search and Rescue series in one of the most action-packed stories she has written! With engaging characters, a fast-moving storyline, and little snippets of characters from other beloved Susan May Warren books, this is easily one of the best I have read this year.”

Write-Read-Life

Half Title Page

Also by Susan May Warren

MONTANA RESCUE

Wild Montana Skies

Rescue Me

A Matter of Trust

Troubled Waters

Storm Front

Wait for Me

GLOBAL SEARCH AND RESCUE

The Way of the Brave

The Heart of a Hero

The Price of Valor

SKY KING RANCH

Sunrise

Title Page

Copyright Page

© 2022 by Susan May Warren

Published by Revell

a division of Baker Publishing Group

PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

Ebook edition created 2022

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

ISBN 978-1-4934-3424-4

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Baker Publishing Group publications use paper produced from sustainable forestry practices and post-consumer waste whenever possible.

Dedication

Soli Deo Gloria

one

By the time Dodge got to the hospital, he’d already broken his first promise.

It was a Saturday, the same day the sun turned the Copper River into blades of ice, lethal and brilliant as they shoved and jockeyed out of Denali’s shadow south into the Gulf of Alaska. The dawn had broken at the respectable hour of 7:42 a.m., and with it, the sunrise not only brought a southernly gust of warm air that cracked the freezing point and turned the starting line of the Iditarod to mush and grime but also laced the air with the scent of spring.

A balmy 37 degrees in Anchorage, nearly a heat wave this time of year.

Which only brought out the crazies.

As he stalked through the waiting room of Alaska Regional and punched the elevator button, Dodge shot a look at the flat-screen where the news recapped yesterday’s celebration, aka the parade through Anchorage of the fifty-seven or so mushing teams. People dancing on icy berms, high-fiving the mushers, tailgaters wearing board shorts along with fur caps and mukluks, children wanting to pet the dogs. Outsiders from the Lower 48 were trying to grab selfies with local celebrities.

The mushers would be starting on their thousand-mile journey from Willow Lake later today, and with that information from the reporter, Echo Yazzie slipped into Dodge’s mind.

He wondered—

No. He shook her away, got on the elevator, and rode it to the third, med-surg floor. As he got off, he recognized the smells of a hospital, not that different from Walter Reed, and his insides clenched.

He wouldn’t stay long.

Of course, the old man hadn’t died in the accident, and maybe that was crass of Dodge, but if he had, maybe it would all be over, the burn in Dodge’s gut finally extinguished.

He spotted his sister, Larke, standing at the end of the hall, staring through the window at the blue sky, the muddy streets. She stood with her back to him, so he only guessed it was Larke, her long blond hair in a singular braid down her back. But she also wore a Sky King Ranch flight jacket, the words emblazoned on the back, so that seemed a dead giveaway.

A man sat in a nearby molded chair, his hair cut military short. He considered Larke with worried eyes.

Probably Riley McCord, her SEAL husband. Perfect. With Dodge’s luck, his brother Range and Riley would have met on some classified SEAL mission, become best of pals, and Riley would have gotten an earful of family dirty laundry over a post-mission debriefing.

Dodge, of course, starring as the villain of the story.

He braced himself. “Larke?”

She turned, and of course she looked older—the last time he’d seen her she’d been eighteen and joining the Army.

And he’d been sixteen and just stupid enough to think that he had his life buttoned up.

“Dodge?” She wore trauma in her eyes, probably fatigue and worry, but also residue from the years she’d served as a medic. Still, he wondered if she had been the one to find the wreckage of their father’s DHC-3 Otter bush plane. His friend Moose had been sketchy on that part when he’d called to tell Dodge about the accident.

Glancing at the man in the chair, who rose, Larke put her coffee on the ledge of the window. “Wow. I didn’t think . . . I mean . . . how did you find out?”

Dodge wished she’d finished her first thought. She didn’t think . . . what? That he cared about the old man? That he’d ever return? That he didn’t think about his choices nearly every day, especially recently?

“Moose Mulligan, down at Air One Rescue,” Dodge answered.

Larke wore a pair of jeans, Sorels, and a wedding ring on her left hand, but he knew that, too, thanks to the Copper Mountain Good News’s online portal.

He just kept his subscription for the obits. And maybe the police report. Really. The fact that it listed her engagement to a Navy SEAL a couple years ago was just a bonus line item.

“Have you been in Anchorage all this time?” She seemed to be working her words, trying not to accuse.

He felt it anyway.

“How’d it happen?” He glanced at the other man—Riley—now standing. Big enough, built like a linebacker, he stepped close to Larke and put his arm around her.

Dodge met his eyes even as Larke spoke.

“Otto Smith saw him go down and called it in. Dad was low, coming in for a landing at the Copper Mountain airfield, and his wing clipped a tree. Otto wasn’t sure but he thought the wing might have detached before it hit.”

“A faulty wing attachment?” His gaze went back to Larke, having found some solid ground in his silent face-off with Riley. Riley loved her—he would protect her, and Dodge appreciated that. Larke might be two years older than him, but she was still his sister.

“It’s the only way we can figure it.” Her gaze flitted toward the closed door that Dodge guessed was the old man’s room. “He’s been flying for forty-nine years. He doesn’t make mistakes.”

“It doesn’t have to be a pilot error for accidents to happen, Larke. Weather. A wind gust. Anything can happen in the bush.”

Her jaw clenched and her husband tightened his grip on her. He finally held out his hand to Dodge. “Riley McCord.”

Dodge met it. “Dodge Kingston. When did you two finally hitch up?”

“Before my first tour,” he said. “About a year ago.”

Dodge didn’t ask if he knew Ranger, figured it would come up if it needed to. “Congrats. Sorry I wasn’t there.”

“We eloped,” Larke said. “You and the boys were too hard to track down, and Dad already gave his blessing, so . . .”

She was being kind with her words. Truth was, he hadn’t a clue where Ranger, and especially Colt, had landed on the globe. And he didn’t ask. Just because they were triplets didn’t mean they were close. At least, not anymore.

“How bad is it?” He gestured with his head toward door number one.

“Dislocated shoulder, broken arm, a couple cracked ribs. One of them nicked his lung, though, and it collapsed. Moose and a team from Air One Rescue flew in to the crash site. Took them forever, but they did save his life.” She frowned. “But you know that. What, are you flying for them now?”

Dodge wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. Not really. Maybe. “Moose has my number and he called me.”

He left out the part where he’d gotten on a plane in DC and flown eight-plus hours before he’d let his brain kick in.

It wasn’t like his father wanted him around. Or like Dodge would swoop in and save the ranch, walk back into the life he’d longed for once upon a time.

Pick up where he left off with the girl he left behind.

Clearly, he needed a shower, breakfast, and coffee—although he’d given up the last one during his stint in Walter Reed, so maybe just tea. He’d promised his docs to keep his heart rate at a reasonable tick going forward.

Still, maybe he needed to offer Larke something of an explanation because she just looked at him, through him, clearly not believing him. But if he kept going with his explanation there’d be more judgment, questions, and who knew what else. He might even end up doing something he swore he’d never do.

Like return home.

Nope. His stupid impulses had done enough damage. “How long are you in town?”

“We’ve been here about ten days. Riley has about a week left on leave.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I should have gone with Dad.”

“Larke,” Riley said quietly, “he’s been flying by himself for years.”

Maybe he didn’t mean the indictment, but Dodge’s chest tightened anyway.

She glanced at Riley. “What? I know what I’m doing up there.”

A muscle ticked in Riley’s jaw.

Behind them, the door opened, and Dodge turned just as a doctor in her midforties walked out. She seemed no-nonsense, with short brown hair, seasoned eyes, and a lean frame. She wore a jacket over a pair of scrubs and held out her hand to Larke.

“I’m Doctor Madison. I operated on your father. He’s going to be pretty sore, and we’re going to keep him here for another day or two, but he’s a tough one. He’ll be okay.”

Dodge’s throat thickened with her words.

“Thanks, Doc,” Larke said for them both. “Can we see him?”

Doc Madison nodded, and Larke headed for the door.

Dodge didn’t move.

Larke stopped, turned. “Really?”

“It’s been ten years, Larke. I know you weren’t around, but . . . it was bad. He doesn’t want to see me.”

Her mouth tightened around the edges. “Don’t be stupid. You’re here. Come in with me.”

He held up his hand. “He’s wounded. Maybe now’s not the time to—”

“See his oldest son? Confirm that you’re not dead in some Taliban-occupied valley in Afghanistan? Yeah, you’re probably right. He wouldn’t want to know that you’re okay and standing in the hallway afraid to walk in and say hi to your father.”

Oh, she could light him up. He clenched his jaw.

Riley looked away and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What are you afraid of, Dodge?”

“I’m not afraid, Larke.”

She met his gaze, and in hers he saw a woman who’d been through her own trauma and survived. So not the girl who needed to be protected, not anymore.

Fine. “I left for a reason, and that reason hasn’t changed.”

“Hasn’t it?”

A beat passed, and he still didn’t move.

She opened the door and went inside.

Riley gave him a thin-lipped smile and followed.

Dodge walked to the end of the hallway and stared out the window.

With the break in the freeze, blackened snowdrifts edged the parking lot, muddy with thawing rivers of ice. Cars splashed mud, and ice floated in the Knik Arm waterway. The view looked out over Merrill Airfield and the hundred or so parked Beavers, Otters, Cessnas, and Piper Cubs that roamed the skies, then extended past the airfield to Joint Base Elmendorf–Richardson, to the north. Beyond it, the ridge back of the Alaskan range razored across the sun-soaked blue sky, bold and white and impressive. Denali and Huntington, Foraker and Russell, were tucked in there, each glacial runnel and granite ridge imprinted in him like the lines of his palm.

The mountains called to him like an old familiar song, a tune embedded in his bones.

One he was trying to forget.

Though he couldn’t see it from here, Sky King Ranch was nestled in the foothills of the range, perched on a lake that hosted cabins and a lodge for the family.

They also ran thirty or so head of cattle and a handful of horses.

Barry Kingston, his father, was one of few remaining born and bred Alaskans in Copper Mountain. And his sons were supposed to carry on the legacy.

Dodge crossed his arms, glued there because, of course, Larke was right.

He was afraid. Afraid of the memories that still broke free sometimes. And most of all, afraid of the words that he longed to hear and never would.

He should leave. He’d made himself promises, and he’d already broken the first one by standing in this corridor. Yes, stupid impulses.

“Oh, thank God, Dodge, you’re here.”

The voice jolted him, made him turn.

Winter Starr. Daughter of the legendary bush pilot Sheldon Starr. Her family ran Starr Air Service, northwest of Copper Mountain. She wore her dark hair in two long braids and had on a pair of boots and a Starr Air sweatshirt. She probably ran her own plane by now.

He had no words when she walked right up to him and pulled him down in a hug. “I’m so sorry about your dad.”

She’d beat him out for valedictorian by a half point and that had intrigued, if not irked, him enough to like her. But she’d also been Echo’s best friend, so that was as far as his interest went.

“Thanks.”

She let him go. “I was coming up to talk to Larke, but I’m so glad you’re here. We can divvy up his charters, but I can’t do his mail route, Dodge. I just can’t.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve already got the mail run to Paxton, plus every homestead east of the Copper River, and if I add the western mail, that fills me right up.”

“You’re running the mail?”

“And medical and groceries for most of the east side north of Susitna. Your dad has the western run, over the range, to Nikolai and Stony River, and even out to Russian Mission.”

Of course he did. An area that would probably keep him in the air for days.

“He also checks in on the homesteads in the area—he’s got a schedule.”

“I know it.” He’d flown that route more times than he could count.

She cut her voice down. “They’re talking pilot error.”

“No. Otto Smith said his wing was coming off.”

“Ernie Wright just did a hundred-hour inspection on the plane. It was cleared.” She sighed. “I don’t know how much you know, but your dad has had a few close calls lately. Nearly clipped another plane in the Copper Mountain airfield during taxi, and I heard he spooked a recent group by flying too close to one of Huntington Mountain’s spires.”

“Aw, that’s just Barry Kingston showing off.”

“The National Air Transportation Board is coming in to do an investigation, and depending on what they find, he could be shut down. At the very least, he can’t fly, not for a while, right?” She gestured to his room.

“Larke is here. She knows the routes—”

“In her condition? I’m surprised that Riley let her get in a plane with me to fly them down.”

Condition? So that’s what the look between them was about.

Winter’s expression portrayed concern. “I get it—high-risk pregnancy and all that, but he’s a little overprotective, if you ask me. But that’s a SEAL for you.” Her voice turned sweet. “Where’ve you been, anyway? Someone said Air Force.”

“Something like that.”

“Afghanistan?”

“Sometimes.”

“I heard your brothers are big-shot military guys too. Ranger made the SEALs.”

Dodge nodded.

“And Colt, some sort of special forces in the Army?”

Delta Force, according to Ranger. Dodge lifted a shoulder.

“All a bunch of overachieving heroes, aren’t you?” Her eyes shone, maybe a little of their untried past in them. “Glad you’re back.”

“I’m not back,” he said, the words just slipping out.

Winter frowned.

And what was he going to say? That not only had he vowed to never return to Sky King Ranch but he wasn’t keen on getting in the cockpit again either?

He shouldn’t be here, for so many reasons. But Winter was the last person who should know that. Mostly because if Winter knew, then her sister Shasta knew . . . and if Shasta knew, well it wouldn’t take long for the entire town to buzz with the news.

So he found a benign smile. “Never mind. Good to see you, Winter.”

“Your dad keeps that yellow Piper 14 you used to fly tuned up. I saw him out in it a few weeks back. You flew that thing like it was a part of you. Like you had wings.”

He’d forgotten that. But yes, she was right. Once upon a time, the sky felt like home. Maybe it would again—he just had to get back on the proverbial horse-slash-cockpit.

Or not.

“Well, like I said, I’m glad you’re back.” She looked at him, paused. Then, “She will be too.”

His smile faded. “I didn’t ask.”

“Sure you did.” She winked and walked away, and his heart slammed like a fist in his chest.

“She will be too.”

The door to the room opened and Riley stepped out. “Going for more coffee. Your dad is still sleeping. Larke didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He didn’t move down the hall, however, and again Dodge braced himself.

“Listen,” Riley said. “I don’t know what went down, and she doesn’t talk about it, but she can’t stay, Dodge.” He took a breath, looked past Dodge to the window, his mouth tightening. “She lost our first baby about six months ago, so this one is higher risk. I can’t have her up there, doing . . . well, I’m well aware of the perils of being a bush pilot.” He shook his head. “We met the summer of the Copper Mountain fire. The one that took out your grandparents’ house. She was a daredevil, even then. I can’t—”

Dodge held up his hand. “Stop. I get it.”

Riley turned his gaze on him. “Get this, then. If you don’t fly, he loses his contracts. And if he loses his contracts—”

“He could lose the ranch. I can do the math, Riley. Once upon a time, I was planning on taking over Sky King Ranch.”

Silence fell between them.

“You weren’t planning on going home, were you?” Riley asked.

Maybe the guy was an interrogator, but Dodge had no secrets, not really.

The entire town knew why he’d left. He shook his head.

“Why are you in town?” Riley asked.

What could it hurt? “I have a job offer with Air One Rescue flying choppers.” He’d been sitting on his answer for a while now, not sure of the wisdom of saying yes to a job that might be doomed, but what else could he do?

His answer seemed made when Moose called him.

“I see. So nearby, but not all the way home.” Riley raised an eyebrow.

“You should stop right there, because you don’t know anything about it.”

“I know that I wish, with everything inside me, that I had a second chance to show my pop that I turned out okay. That I finally became the person he knew I could be.”

“My father couldn’t care less how I turned out.” And that came out exactly as bitter as it felt in his chest.

“He has your picture on his mantel,” Riley said.

“He probably has my brothers’ pictures up there too.”

Riley nodded slowly.

Dodge drew in a breath. Managed not to put his fist in the wall. Instead, he sighed and said, “Okay, here’s the bottom line. Nothing has changed since the day I walked into the recruiter’s office and enlisted. I’m not back. I’ll fly his routes until he can take over, but you tell Larke not to mistake any of this for a happy ending. There’s no sunrise of hope here.” He glanced out the window at the slush and rivers of melting snow. “This winter isn’t over, and everyone should just calm down. We have at least one more deadly blizzard ahead of us.”

Riley gave a slow nod. “Okay. So how do you like your coffee?”

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