by Jill Shalvis
own—no parental support, no money, and diabetic to boot. Not easy. “Yeah, people get hurt,” he agreed. “And I needed to go somewhere to forget that, and just be.”
“Did you find that place?”
“No.” The restlessness had followed him, relentlessly. Everywhere. He’d lost his dream, which he could deal with if only he could find a new one. He’d come back here as a last resort, a part of him believing that doing so would be so overwhelming he’d just die on impact; but oddly enough, here he was, still breathing. “I nearly stayed away, nearly kept looking.”
Annie made a noise and Cam braced himself, but she threw herself at him, hugging him tight.
“Damn fool,” she breathed, sniffing noisily in his ear. “A stupid damn fool that I’m so very, very happy to see.” She burrowed closer, squeezing the hell out of him. “Don’t you ever do that again.” Her voice broke, nearly breaking him as well. “Ever. Your place is here. Goddammit, Cam, it’s here. With us.”
Unbearably moved at her tears, he pulled her in tight and buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry. Please, Annie, don’t cry. Not over me.”
“I’m not crying, I’ve just got something in my damn eye.” Shoving free, she turned her back, lifting the hem of her shirt to serendipitously wipe her eyes while Cam looked helplessly at Stone.
But Stone stepped in closer, his voice rough with emotion. He hugged Cam hard. “She’s not the only one glad to see you, asshole.”
Yeah. Yeah, he really was an asshole. “So you’re okay with me being back.”
“Go figure.”
And with those two simple words, uttered sarcastically, both with edge and temper, yet filled with relief and unmistakable love, Cam nearly lost it. Annie’s continued sniffing didn’t help. “Annie,” he murmured, devastated.
“It’s just allergies!” Eyes red, she pointed at Cam. “Get dressed. We’ve got work. Unless your knee is bothering you?”
It was, it always was, but he’d learned to live with that. “I’m fine. What work?”
“You remember those ads that T.J. placed for Wilder Adventures in all the outdoor magazines?”
“Yeah.”
“Business exploded,” Stone told him, smiling. “Continuous groups coming and going. T.J.’s guiding a bunch of trust funders. There’s a group arriving today to go to Cascade Falls, so I’m out of here for two days.”
“We’ve been trying to hire another expedition leader,” Annie said. “But apparently egotistical, cocky sons-of-bitches are hard to come by. Good thing you stopped by, as you know these mountains like the back of your hand.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You’re hired.”
“Maybe I’m not done feeling sorry for myself.”
Stone snorted. “You’re back here, you’re done.”
He wasn’t so sure. “I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll think about it?” Stone repeated. “Bro, you’re in. If you don’t want to do it for your own entertainment, then do it for us. We’re overworked, and we need you.”
They needed him. So even if his world felt more than a little rocky and he had no idea of his place in it, he was needed here. In some small way, that was a relief. Them against the world, as always.
Again, he glanced out the window at the majestic mountains that had once upon a time been his whole world, at the wide-open space they’d taken for their own, and there, among the snow-covered trees and white winter wonderland was another world wonder.
Katie.
She was walking away from her newly assigned cabin now. She’d changed into dressier clothes and silly boots not really meant for their weather. A classic city-girl mistake. She was heading past the row of eight staff cabins toward the main lodge to go to work, and just like that, yet another unwanted emotion hit him.
Okay, two.
Curiosity and intrigue—two things he hadn’t felt in a damn long time. “I’ll think about it,” he said again.
“Fine,” Stone said. “You do that. But think fast.”
Chapter 3
Katie saw Stone briefly, and by briefly, she meant when she’d literally run into him just outside the big lodge as she’d been coming in and he’d been going out.
He was as good-looking as Cam, slightly bigger, but a kinder, gentler version in that at least he could hold a conversation without dragging his knuckles.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his iPod earpieces away from his ears and dropping them around his neck. Rock blared out from the speakers. “I know we have a meeting to go over everything you need to do while I’m gone, but something’s come up. Can you handle closing out the month on the books, writing a few checks, and possibly renting out some equipment? Annie can give you the rundown.”
Sure,” she said as he moved off with his long stride. “No problem.” Hopefully. She turned to enter the large two-story log-cabin structure that made up the lodge.
The foyer was lit by the long windows on either side of the huge front door, and also by two moose lamps mounted on the log walls. There was a beautiful wooden bench and a long row of hooks for jackets. Still not used to the 6,300-foot altitude, she hugged her jacket closer, not yet ready to take it off as she stepped into a huge open great room that always made her think of a mid-nineteenth-century saloon. Hardwood floors, open-beamed ceilings, and a Wild West decor gave a warm glow to the place. There were big, comfy couches spread throughout, and in the far corner, an old-fashioned salon-style bar. Next to it was the biggest fireplace she’d ever seen, glowing with embers from the rip-roaring fire of the night before.
Annie came skidding into the living room. The Wilder Adventures chef wore baggy jeans and a large, long-sleeved T-shirt, making it impossible to see her figure. Ageless as well, she wore no makeup and might have been sixteen or forty. Her green eyes said, Don’t mess with me. Her apron wasn’t much friendlier. It read: MY KITCHEN DOESN’T RUN ON THANKS. Her sable hair was thick and long down her back. “Did my medical delivery come—” She picked up a white bag from the foyer bench. “Crap, I missed him.”
“Who?”
“The hot delivery guy, who else?” Seeming very distracted and more tightly wound than usual, Annie opened the bag, looking through it. “Getting my insulin isn’t nearly as fun without the flirting.”
“Stone said there’s some things he needs done while he’s gone, and that I should get the full lowdown from you.”
“Dammit.” Annie pulled out her phone, checked the time on the display, then blew out a breath. “Okay, lowdown…” She began piling her long, thick hair on top of her head in a haphazard fashion, sticking pins in it from her pocket. “If you have to rent anyone any snow equipment, it’s not difficult. You know the two large storage garages where it’s all kept?” At Katie’s nod, she went on, “The helicopter’s keys are in the first one, but you shouldn’t have to worry about that unless someone wants to go heli-skiing.”
Katie’s jaw hit the floor. “Uh—”
“Kidding.” Annie flashed a grin. “Sorry. But if someone wants to rent a snowmobile, you can handle that, right?”
“Sure,” she said much more confidently than she felt. Rent a snowmobile, maybe. Drive one? She was barely back to driving a car…
Baby steps. This was just one baby step in a series of many, all heading toward the goal of risking, living. Balls out, baby. “No problem.”
“Okay, so the lodge.” Annie pointed to a wide hallway off to the right of the living room. “You’ve seen it all by now. The wing of eight guest rooms, the crew that comes in from Wishful to clean…they’ll probably come by your desk for a check today. Pay them or they won’t come back.” Annie pointed to the opposite hallway off to the left, where there was a movie room, the dining room, and a huge kitchen. “Sometimes I hire additional help from town, like today. They’ll want to be paid as well.”
“Got it.”
Annie pointed to the portion of the living room done up like an old western bar, where if there were overnight guests, it could ge
t really hopping. “And whoever comes in to bartend tonight will want to be paid as well. Okay, gotta go.”
“Wait. Month end?”
“I have no idea, but if Stone does it, it can’t be that hard. Oh, and you’re not on our bank account yet, so he probably left you a few checks signed.”
“He left signed checks?” she asked, a little horrified.
Annie patted her hand. “Honey, this ain’t LA.”
“But someone could steal a check and wipe out your account.”
“Girl, you’re in the mountains now. If anyone came in here and tried to steal a check, someone would just shoot him.” She shook her head and laughed at the idea.
Katie didn’t, because holy crap, she didn’t actually think Annie was kidding. Her next words proved it.
“The shotgun’s in the closet upstairs, if you need it.”
“Ohmigod.”
“Just remember, Stone loves to read reports and stuff, so make sure to print everything out as you go—”
She broke off as a tall, lanky man in well-worn jeans and a tool belt walked into the room. It was Nick Alder, Wilder Adventures’s heli-pilot and mechanic. He was good-looking in a “been a ski bum for twenty years” sort of way. He had a mop of brown curls exploding on his head and matching brown eyes to go with the tanned face and easygoing stride, which came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Annie.
“Nick,” she said in a chilly voice that had Katie taking another look at the two of them. In the week she’d been here, she’d not seen them together before. The tension level was…interesting.
“Annie.” Nick, normally approachable and laid-back, looked extremely uncomfortable as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I thought you’d be…”
“Out of your hair?” The chef’s mouth curved, but her eyes were flashing…hurt? “No such luck. Stone needs you. Uh…” She took a quick glance at Katie, then turned back to Nick. “Something came up.”
“I already know,” Nick said.
“You know?” This clearly pissed her off.
Katie thought about warning poor Nick that there was a loaded shotgun just upstairs, but Annie spoke first. “You might have told me, Nick.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it again. “You told me not to tell you anything. You told me not to talk to you, remember?”
The sound Annie made spoke volumes on how she felt about that.
“Look, I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you are,” she agreed. “You’re one sorry son-of-a—”
“If this is about the divorce papers—”
“It’s not. Or it wouldn’t be, if you’d just sign them!”
Nick rocked back on his heels and said nothing to that.
Katie tried to disappear into the floorboards.
And Annie just shook her head. “Oh, forget it. You’ll have to sign them eventually.” She turned to Katie. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more time right now.”
In other words, go away. Message received. Leaving the two of them at their stalemate, Katie went up the stairs and into an open reception area. Her desk was huge and gorgeous, made from an old oak door tipped on its side. It was piled high with paperwork, and also held a computer and the usual office supplies.
Katie was a numbers girl. Before her accident, she’d been content working at an accounting firm. In that world, things needed to add up in order to make sense. Things fell in line and had a purpose.
But no longer. After the accident, life hadn’t balanced, no matter how hard she’d tried to get it to do so.
She pulled off her jacket, and as she did every morning, she looked at the wall. It was covered with awards for various world-class winter events: Winter X Games, Burton European Open, Olympics, and many more. There were shelves, too, filled with trophies, some stacked three thick.
All of them for one person—Cameron Wilder.
How she’d not placed that until now, she had no idea. The phone on her desk rang, and still staring in amazement at the wall that now made sense, she picked it up. “Wilder Adventures.”
“Katie, it’s Stone. I need you to grab the set of keys in your top right drawer, go out to the equipment garage, climb into the Sno-Cat, and start it. One of our neighbors is coming to borrow it, and it takes forever to warm that sucker up.”
“Okay.” She pulled out the keys and looked out the window at the garage. “One question. What’s a Sno-Cat?”
That got her a laugh. “It’s the big orange machine right inside the garage door that looks like a giant’s Tonka toy. Climb into it, put the key in the ignition, push in the choke, and turn the key while pumping the gas twice. Leave the garage door open so you don’t die of carbon monoxide poisoning. Sam’ll bring the Cat back later and drop the keys off with you.”
Okay…Katie pulled her jacket back on, ran down the steps and outside, sucking in a breath as the cold slapped her in the face. So different from the hot, sticky, non-winter of Los Angeles, for which she was eternally grateful.
She made her way on the trail around the lodge, the snow crunching beneath her feet, the breath soughing in and out of her lungs because apparently a week was not long enough to adjust to the high altitude. Luckily for her, the keys were labeled. At the equipment garage side door she eyed the huge sign that read KNOCK FIRST, and then did, hoping someone would be here to help her out.
No one answered, so she let herself in and flipped on the light.
A huge, orange machine stared at her, indeed looking like some giant’s Tonka toy.
She stared back, feeling some of her courage dissolve. Feeling other things dissolve, too, like oh, the bones in her legs as a flash came to her, one that usually hit only in the deep dark of the night. The Sno-Cat wasn’t anything like the crane that had been required to rescue her when the Santa Monica bridge collapsed, but apparently it was close enough.
It’d been a simmering hot day. The asphalt had been steaming by 8:45 A.M. She’d been late for work and knew her boss would be peeved, so she’d gotten on the bridge and sped up, only to be cut off by a semitruck. Stymied, she’d been stuck behind him, which in hindsight had saved her life, because when the bridge had collapsed, the truck had fallen into the void and she’d slid off the side instead of sinking. She’d flipped too many times to count, rolled down the embankment, coming to a horrific halt upside down, caught on a tree as her car burst into flames…
Sweating and shaking now, she blinked the Sno-Cat back into focus. “No.” Hell no. Not having a nightmare in the middle of the damn day. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said out loud. Her doctor had taught her that trick, speaking out loud to snap her out of it. “You’re fine.”
Proving it, she lifted her chin and eyed the beast. “I’m doing this.” She climbed up and pulled herself in, landing on the big driver’s seat. Stomach quivering, still sweating, she wiped her brow and looked out the windshield. She was high up, sure, but she wasn’t upside down in her little car. There was no danger here. Repeating that to herself, she put the key in and turned it, already wincing—
But nothing happened.
“The choke.” She repeated Stone’s words back to herself, “Push the choke in.” She searched for and found the thing, then pushed it in and turned the ignition over while pumping the gas twice.
The Sno-Cat roared to life, the engine rumbling and shuddering and vibrating beneath her, around her. With that came a burst of heat from the vents, a blast that blew her hair back and burned her eyes, and with a shocked cry, she cringed, stomach revolting, violently, and without warning. Not rational and knowing it, but unable to care or stop herself, she flung her body out of the Sno-Cat, landing hard on her knees. Crawling out of the equipment garage and into the snow, the blessedly cold snow, she gulped for air, managing by the grace of God not to lose her breakfast.
“Goldilocks?”
Dammit. Not him, not now. She fisted her hands in the snow, letting it sink into skin, cold and wet, reminding her where she was.
The Sierras,
taking that baby step on the way to the rest of her life.
Risking.
Adventures.
All of it, everything she’d never given herself pre-bridge collapse.
“Katie.” Cam crouched at her side putting his hand on her back. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yes.” Please go away.
Instead, she felt his hand skim over her spine, as cool and soothing as the snow beneath her. “Are you sick?”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re green is what you are.”
“I just need a moment.” She pushed to her feet and headed back to the lodge, figuring he’d take the hint and leave her alone. After all, he seemed to like being alone.
But she could hear his boots crunching in the snow behind her. “I’m fine,” she told him over her shoulder. “Really.” To prove it,
