A Colton Target

by Beverly Long

  Blaine looked at Tilda. “I’m okay...” he stopped. This co-parenting was hard. They needed to be in sync on all decisions, regardless of how big or small.

  “I’m okay with him going ahead, too,” Tilda said. “Only this run. And I swear to...the snow gods...that if you pass me a second time, there’s going to be trouble.”

  “Then, get your ski on, Mama!”

  The words floated back to Tilda and Blaine as Josh took off.

  “My skis are on,” Tilda muttered.

  Blaine laughed. “I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

  “I know what he meant. Oh, it’s tough to be the mother of a thirteen-year-old who has no fear.” She adjusted her goggles. Appeared to be taking in a couple deep breaths. Finally, she looked at him. “Now or never.”

  She started off slow, skiing a zigzag across the wide run to keep her speed down. He waited, not wanting to hurry her. At the rate she was going, he wasn’t going to lose her. Back and forth she went. She was doing fine, he thought. Then his stomach tightened when he saw her lean a bit too much into her turn and go down.

  But his girl got right back up. She turned to look at him and waved. He waved back. Then he used the binoculars around his neck to check on Josh, who was already a third of the way down the slope.

  They were skiing together as a family. Hadn’t seen this one coming.

  He pushed off, eager to join Tilda. “Hey, honey, you’re doing fabulous,” he said.

  “Oh, well,” she said, her cheeks pink from cold and maybe exertion, “time will tell. If I make it through today, I’m suspecting I won’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow.”

  She’d said it innocently, but he couldn’t just let it go. “If that happens, make sure you call me,” he said, his tone suggestive.

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

  “You’re so beautiful when you laugh,” he said. “So damn beautiful.” And he kissed her. And when he felt her teeter on her skis, he held her tight. Finally, he lifted his lips.

  “Race you to the bottom,” he said.

  “What’s the winner get?”

  “What do you want?” he asked, as if it was a foregone conclusion that she’d win.

  “Good answer,” she said. “I want...a date night. Nothing crazy or over the top, but just the two of us.”

  That sounded really good. “We’ve missed a few steps along the way, haven’t we?”

  “Overachievers. We couldn’t wait to get to the finish line.”

  She was trying to keep it light, but he knew. “It’s been a crazy week, Tilda. But we’ll get our feet back under us. We’ll figure things out.”

  “Of course we will,” she said.

  Was she confident or simply putting on a good show? He wanted to tell her that he planned on sticking around, planned on being a part of Josh’s life, being a part of her life. Wanted to tell her that...

  Well, he damn well couldn’t tell her that right now. She’d laugh it off, tell him he was crazy. That there was no way that he could have fallen in love with her so fast. Likely wouldn’t believe him if he told her that perhaps he’d never been out of love.

  He planted his poles. “Ready? Set?”

  She moved so that her skis were pointing downhill. Nodded.

  “Go,” he said.

  * * *

  She beat him to the bottom, which meant that he’d probably stopped and had a burger on the way down. As Blaine came in just seconds behind her, he pretended to be breathing hard.

  “You win,” he said.

  She was going to protest his generosity but, instead, decided to up the ante. “That’s right, I did. How do you feel about spa treatments?” The Chateau was famous for them.

  “In general?”

  She shook her head. “No. Specifically. As in specifically for you. My perfect date involves a partner spa day. The whole works. Massage. Facials. Manicures. Pedicures. For both of us.”

  He swallowed. “Sounds great.”

  He was lying through his teeth. “And then shopping,” she added.

  “More fun,” he said.

  “Uh-huh. When’s the last time you were in a mall?”

  “Not a lot of malls where I’ve been spending the last few years.”

  They’d hardly even talked about his thirteen years of service. It was time to stop teasing him. “I think you were very brave,” she said.

  “No yanking my chain anymore?” he asked, his voice catching.

  “I haven’t said it, but I’m really proud of you. Proud of what you did. Proud that were brave enough to take incredible risks to help others. It’s...it’s a very good example for Josh.”

  He stared into her eyes. There were fresh snowflakes on her lashes. “That means a lot to me,” he said. “Especially given the circumstances.”

  She shrugged. “We were young.”

  He leaned close. “Young and dumb,” he whispered.

  “Young and dumb,” she echoed, lifting her lips to him.

  He was still kissing her when a spray of snow flew over them. They turned their heads, and she saw Josh standing behind them. Her stomach cramped. This was the first time Josh had seen them kiss. What the heck was he going to think? She searched his face.

  He looked...well, not that concerned.

  “Hey,” he said, “I’ve already been down the hill once, back up on the ski lift, and down again before the two of you made it to the bottom. I’d ask what the heck you were doing, but that seems a little obvious.”

  Her face flooded with warmth. “Are you okay with this, Josh?”

  “Well, besides the fact that it’s my parents doing the PDAs, I’ve got no issues.”

  It was the closest thing a thirteen-year-old boy could give as far as endorsements. She looked at Blaine.

  He was smiling and shaking his head. “You’re something, Josh. You know that?” he said, his voice full of pride.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m a pretty great kid. Now, come on, let’s go.”

  Chapter 22

  Blaine was feeling good as he started his fourth time down the run. Some fresh snow had fallen, and the temperature was cold enough to prevent too much melt. That would all change tomorrow, when the warmer air settled on the mountain. But it was a great day to end the season.

  And a great day for starting a...well, he wasn’t sure what to call it. A romance. A relationship. Not a fling. Not even close. Tilda mattered. Josh mattered.

  He and Tilda were still skiing together. He waited at the top of the run, letting her get a couple hundred yards ahead of him. He didn’t want to rush her. She’d fallen a total of three times, but other than that, she was doing really well, and he could tell that her confidence was building. She was getting more aggressive on her skis. Josh had lapped them a couple times, waving a pole as he went by.

  Now Blaine put his binoculars up to his eyes to see if he could locate his son on the slope.

  And what he saw almost made him drop the binoculars.

  Davis James.

  Blaine looked again.

  The man was on skis, further down the slope, wearing a white ski jacket and matching pants. Fortunately, no helmet, which made it possible to pick out his unusual features. Still, if Blaine had not had the binoculars and exceptional eyesight, he’d have never seen him out from this distance.

  The man had been on a bus headed east, presumably back home. His credit card had been used.

  Blaine wanted to kick his own ass. The man had clearly wanted to dupe them into thinking that he was leaving. He’d gotten on the bus, probably had made sure that he was visible to the many cameras that were in the bus station, so that they’d believe he was leaving town. His credit card had continued to be used but, damn it, maybe all he’d had to do was give the card to somebody and tell them to us
e it. Could have explained it as a pay-it-forward kind of deal.

  He planted his poles and headed for Tilda. Whatever reason Davis James was here at The Lodge, it could not be good.

  He easily caught up with her and motioned for her to stop. It took her a second to do so, and his heart was beating fast. “Hey, no worries but I just saw Davis James. I’m going to find Josh. He passed us about ten minutes ago, so I’m going to catch up to him.”

  “What? Why?” She stopped and shook her head, as if she realized those question didn’t matter.

  “I need you to follow me, as quickly as you can, but still safely. Can you do that, Tilda?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Find Josh. Don’t worry about me.”

  * * *

  He couldn’t ski and watch Davis James at the same time. So he chose to haul ass down the slope. Keeping his eyes on the man took second place to finding Josh and getting him and Tilda off the slopes, into a secure spot. It took him ten minutes to catch up with his son, who smiled as Blaine slid to a stop fifty feet ahead of him, throwing snow in his wake.

  Blaine held up his hand, telling the boy to stop.

  “Hey,” Josh said, his voice happy. Then, probably taking a cue from the grim look on Blaine’s face, his son turned quickly and looked uphill. “Is Mom okay? Did she fall?”

  Don’t scare him. He needed him to move fast and to listen well. Being scared wasn’t conducive to either. “She’s fine,” he said, making a real effort to sound normal. “But I caught a glimpse of the guy that we thought was on the bus, the one that wants to make trouble for me. So, we’re going to get off this slope. Your mom is on her way down.”

  He used his binoculars to look up the slope, and he saw her. Coming fast. Much faster than she’d skied at any point earlier in the day. Brave Tilda. They were going to get out of this okay.

  He turned and used his binoculars to try to locate Davis James again. But he had moved. Damn. He wanted eyes on the man. “Your mom is coming. Let’s wait for her.”

  She was less than two hundred yards away from them, when he heard a pop and saw a skiff of snow fly. It hadn’t been that long since he’d heard gunfire, and he recognized it now.

  Holy hell! Somebody was shooting at Tilda. It had to be Davis James.

  He clicked through his options. To the right was tree cover that would be helpful. It was also very near the area that they’d closed due to avalanche risk.

  But if Davis James was within firing range, they were sitting ducks out here in the open. They had to go right. “Josh, that way,” he said, pointing. “Go now. Go fast.”

  “That was a gun, wasn’t it?” Josh asked.

  “Yeah. We’re going to get out of this, don’t worry.”

  Josh looked up the mountain, as if to make his mom appear.

  “Your mom will be okay,” Blaine said, praying it was true. “Now, go.”

  Josh went, skiing low and fast. Blaine waved to Tilda, using both arms to signal that she should change course. He prayed that she saw him and she’d realize what he wanted her to do.

  And he saw the minute that it happened. She changed course. He knew that if Davis James had binoculars, he could be watching every move they made. Would know where they were likely headed.

  He used precious seconds to try to find Davis James with his binoculars but couldn’t. Wearing white, which he’d likely done deliberately, he blended into the landscape.

  Blaine planted his skis and followed Josh. When he caught up with his son, he motioned for him to take cover behind a tree. Then he waited several long minutes for Tilda to reach them. There were no more shots.

  She stopped fast, the edges of her skis digging into the snow. “Was that...” she didn’t finish her question, likely seeing that Josh was well within hearing distance.

  “Yes,” Blaine said. “Josh knows. Somebody definitely took a shot at you. I’m confident it came from that direction...” Blaine motioned down the hill.

  “I thought this area was closed to skiers,” Josh said, looking around.

  Smart kid. “It is.” But until he could spot Davis James and take him out, they had little choice. He unstrapped the avalanche beacon that he wore. “Put this on,” he said to Josh. Hurry, hurry, hurry. He didn’t have to say it because Josh wasn’t wasting any time.

  Blaine was torn over what to do. He was worried about the shooting. Not just because bullets were deadly, but the noise, the vibration, could easily trigger an avalanche. Conventional wisdom told him to get Tilda and Josh safely secured to trees. But he wanted them to be unencumbered, able to move quickly if Davis James approached.

  Decision made, Blaine slipped his backpack off, unzipped it and pulled out all the rope he had. He could handle Davis James. But what he wasn’t going to be able to handle was a slab of snow coming at them at eighty miles an hour. “Skis off, both of you. Then hug the tree, Tilda. I’m going to tie you to it. If something happens, don’t let go.”

  “Do Josh first,” she said.

  “Not to worry. He’s next.” He wrapped the rope around her and tied it. The few seconds it took him, he was thinking about the bullet, the way the snow had been disturbed, the sound. He finished, then raised his binoculars to his eyes. Scanned the area where he thought Davis James might be. Moved to the right fifty yards. Then another. Then found him.

  The bastard had a gun. And if they’d have kept on course, he’d have had a clear shot at them.

  He offered up a quick thanks that there were no other skiers in the area. Hopefully that wouldn’t change. He didn’t want anybody getting caught in the cross fire.

  He was studying the man so intently that he almost dropped his binoculars, when a massive boom sounded, literally shaking the ground under them. What the hell had Davis James done? But, oddly enough, the look on Davis James’s face was pure shock.

  But there was no time to worry about that.

  “What was that?” Josh asked.

  “An explosion of some kind,” Blaine said. The gunshot had been nothing in comparison. He used his binoculars to look up the mountain, and what he’d feared was their reality. The explosion had shaken loose a slab of snow, and it was moving down the mountain, coming straight for them. “Avalanche,” he said, not having time to sugarcoat it. Damn it. He was not going to lose his family now.

  He fed out another length of rope. Josh had to be tied.

  Then he looked up. Damn it! It was bearing down on them. He lunged for Josh. Grabbed him.

  Only to have the roaring mass of snow rip his son out of his arms.

  Chapter 23

  It was over in just seconds, really. But when the snow settled, Tilda realized that everything was different. Blaine and Josh were gone, buried.

  Everything, every single thing that mattered to her was gone. And she was still tied to a tree. What would her life be without Josh? Without Blaine? Not worth living.

  She screamed and screamed, yelling for help, willing somebody to come. Cold air chilled her lungs but she did not stop. And within five minutes, her prayers were answered. Snowmobiles came over the hill.

  It was Decker and others she didn’t recognize. “Blaine,” she cried, pointing towards the area where she’d seen him last. “And Josh. Blaine gave him his transponder beacon.”

  Decker nodded, and while he untied her, others were running down the hill. They were carrying picks and shovels, and suddenly, they merged onto a spot. “We’re getting a signal,” one of the men yelled.

  They started to dig. Tilda floundered down to the spot and then tried to dig into the hard snow with her hands. She knew the minutes were precious. If found within the first fifteen minutes, there was a good chance of recovery. Beyond that, chances were slimmer.

  There was absolutely no movement from under the snow, nothing to indicate that they were there. She understood. The snow would settle around them, as heavy as con
crete, making it impossible for them to free themselves.

  It seemed unbelievable that, minutes before, they’d been skiing, enjoying the day. Now the mountain seemed shrouded in a grim silence. The only sounds were the rescue crew digging and the squawking of updates from Decker’s walkie-talkie.

  She lifted her head. Listened more closely.

  “Okay. Keep me updated,” Decker said. He glanced at her. “Power is out across the property. Also, the gondola is stuck midair, a hundred and fifty feet up,” he said.

  “Oh, no,” she said.

  “Come on, guys,” Decker urged on the rescue crew. “We gotta find—”

  “I’ve got an arm!” one man yelled.

  There was frantic activity. Then she could see that it was Blaine’s arm, extended up. He was facedown in the snow, his other arm stretched over his head.

  Was he even breathing? Tilda wasn’t sure. She tried to hold back her sob but couldn’t.

  He lifted his head. Saw her and recognition flitted through his eyes. “Josh,” he said roughly.

  “Wait, wait,” another man yelled. “He’s got something in his hand.”

  It was Josh’s coat. And in seconds, the men had dug out her son. Who opened his eyes, groaned a little, but managed to sit up on his own.

  He had never let go. Brave, brave Blaine had grabbed hold of his son and had never let go. Now the two of them huddled together, with her between them. And she held on to both of them, so grateful that they were both in one piece.

  Blaine told Decker about Davis James. Explained where the man had been standing when he’d last been seen.

  “They’re already digging in that area,” Decker confirmed. “We had a report that one or more people were missing. That spot was hit hard with the avalanche. Do you think he set off the explosion?”

  “I don’t know,” Blaine admitted. “I know he shot at us but...this might sound crazy, but I was looking right at him with my binoculars when the explosion hit. He was as surprised as I was.”