Treacherous Slopes

by Terri Reed

  Only trouble was she had a feeling being the perfect professional would be easier said than done.

  A second ambulance arrived and Nick was transferred to the back. At the hospital, Nick and his guard went with the medical personnel. Julie was stopped at the swinging doors.

  “Are you his wife?” a nurse asked. “Or sister?”

  “Friend.”

  “Sorry, family only,” the nurse said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “You can go to admitting and they can let the patient know you’re here.”

  Waiting wasn’t Julie’s biggest strong suit, but she had no choice. She quietly prayed that the tests would come back negative. It would be a horrible shame if he wasn’t fit to compete in three weeks.

  Bob appeared at her side and took the seat next to her. “Are you okay? I was following the ambulance when it crashed.”

  “A little shaken up,” she replied. “Did you see what happened?”

  “Yeah, that car passed me and then cut in front of the ambulance. Next thing I know the ambulance is swerving and bam, into the pole. I got some footage of the banged-up ambulance and of them transferring Nick to the second ambulance.”

  She bit her lip. Knowing how Nick felt about the press, she doubted he’d be okay with them airing the videotape. But it would add so much to the feature. Injured skier’s ambulance crashes. The public would go nuts for it. Especially with the film of Nick’s ski accident and him getting to his feet to walk away from the crash. It would build him up even more as a legend and hero to the American people. And if—when—he won gold next month, it would be even better.

  Deciding whether to use the film or not would be a bridge she’d have to cross eventually, but for now she’d say a prayer for Nick’s health and hope that when the time came to make that decision it would be easy.

  Bob chitchatted with her about mundane matters as they waited. She appreciated his calming presence. Ten years older than she, Bob had taken her under his wing when he found out she had aspirations of being on camera. He’d worked with her, getting her comfortable in front of the lens.

  He’d become a good friend. They made a good team.

  An hour later, Gordon joined them in the waiting area.

  Julie set down the magazine she was reading and stood. “Have you seen him?”

  Looking tired and worn, Gordon said, “Yes. The docs are done. There was no sign of a brain injury.”

  Julie let out a little sigh of relief. “Have you contacted his parents?”

  “Yes. I let them know he’s fine.”

  “I’m sure they’re relieved. Can I see him?”

  “As soon as the neurologist cleared him, they gave him something for the pain. He’s a bit groggy. They’ll release him in a bit.”

  Julie glanced at Bob. He pointed to his camera. She read his message clearly. He wanted to film Nick in his room. It would add a nice dimension to what they already had on tape. She turned her attention back to Gordon. “Could we get a little footage of him in his hospital bed?”

  Gordon frowned. “Not right now. Maybe when he wakes.”

  “I’ll be here.” Resigning herself to waiting, she sat back down as Gordon returned to Nick’s room.

  “I’m going for coffee,” Bob said. “Want some?”

  “Please.” She settled back to look through another magazine. “If I’m not here, come find me in Nick’s room.”

  He saluted and sauntered off with his camera, which he never let out of his sight.

  A few minutes later a woman took a seat a couple chairs away from Julie. She was pretty with dark hair and dark eyes and held a gift-wrapped box in her hands. Something about her seemed familiar, but Julie couldn’t place from where. She exchanged a smile with her and went back to reading.

  A nurse stepped into the waiting area.

  “Are you here to see Nick Walsh?”

  “Yes,” Julie said.

  “Yes,” the brunette said at the same time.

  The nurse looked as confused as Julie felt. Eyeing the brunette closely, Julie realized why she’d recognized her. She’d been the one calling out to Nick after his crash.

  “Uh, tell me your names and I’ll let him know you’re both here,” the nurse said, clearly uncomfortable letting two women in to see Nick when he was only expecting one.

  “Julie Frost.”

  “Kitty Rogers,” the brunette stated. “He’ll see me.”

  Julie arched an eyebrow at the woman’s certainty. Clearly she had some claim on Nick. Something unpleasant stirred in Julie’s tummy. She mentally stopped herself in her tracks. She needed to remain professional. Knowing he had a girlfriend would help to keep her own feelings in check. She would never poach another woman’s man.

  Even if that man had had the starring role in her girlhood daydreams.

  * * *

  Nick shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed. Though he appreciated the excellent medical care he was receiving from Bend’s premier medical center, he wanted to be back on the slopes hitting the kicker, not confined to an eight-by-ten room with linoleum floors, stucco walls and the smell of antiseptics filling his head.

  The memory of the fresh floral scent of Julie’s perfume tightened his gut. She’d smelled like a warm, sunny spring day.

  Julie.

  The image of a pretty blonde danced through Nick’s mind. She’d been Julie Tipton when he’d known her. Man, she’d blossomed, becoming a beautiful woman sans the glasses or the braces he remembered. She’d always been the quiet, studious type. Not the kind to go into show business.

  She’d saved his bacon a few times in high school when he’d asked her for help with his English assignments and his math homework. The girl had been wicked smart. Now she was a newshound. A reporter. Go figure.

  Distaste coated his mouth. He didn’t like the press. Didn’t like the way they sensationalized or capitalized on every aspect of his and his fellow athletes’ lives, the good and the bad. Whatever would generate ratings was fair game.

  Just look at the way they’d sensationalized Cody’s death.

  Familiar pain and grief welled until he thought he’d drown.

  Gordon entered his hospital room. Tight lines of concern bracketed his eyes and mouth. “Doc says you’re A-OK. They’ll release you in few hours.”

  “Sweet.”

  “We have a lot riding on you being fine,” Gordon reminded him.

  We being Gordon and the sponsors backing Nick. The biggest of which was an international company with its headquarters in Bend and named after one of the runs on Mt. Bachelor. The CEO of Thunderbird had supported Nick even after Cody’s death last year and had continued to provide financial support during the weeks when Nick was too grief stricken to train, let alone compete.

  Nick owed them big-time.

  And he always repaid his debts.

  “Ted tell you about the ambulance ride?” His heart thumped remembering the chaos. And Jules. The smell of her hair, the way her bright blue eyes had flared with first shock, then concern and finally awareness before she’d shot away as though she’d been burned.

  “He did. He gave the police a good description of the car.” Worry darkened Gordon’s hazel eyes. “I don’t like this.”

  “You and me both. Whoever sent that threatening note is going to a lot of trouble to hurt me.”

  “That’s why it’s important Ted stay close,” Gordon said. “And that you cooperate and let him do his job keeping you safe.”

  Nick had every intention of staying safe and alive.

  “Hey, there’s something else I need to tell you,” Gordon said.

  “They found the ski?” Nick asked.

  “Yes. Given the circumstances, the local police have taken charge of it and sent the ski to the crime lab for inspection.”

  Nick’s fingers curled into a fist. There was no doubt in his mind this hadn’t been an accident but another attempt on his life.

  “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about,” Gordon said, drawin
g up a chair to the bedside. “The local lifestyle TV show Northwest Edition is going to do a feature piece on you.”

  Nick drew back. “Excuse me?”

  Gordon held up his hands like brackets on a marquee. “Local Hero Comes Home for Anniversary of Brother’s Death.” He shrugged and lowered his hands.

  A knife twisted in Nick’s gut. “I will not use Cody’s death to bolster my career.”

  “Not just your career. Thunderbird wants the exposure. They are fully on board with Ms. Frost’s idea for a feature story on you. This will be good exposure for them.”

  Nick snorted. “Great. And if I refuse?”

  “You can tell Lucas Davenport.” Gordon took out his cell phone. “You want me to get him on the line?”

  As much as it galled him, Nick shook his head.

  Gordon put his phone back in his pocket. “Northwest Edition wants to do a human-interest story. Their reporter, Julie, is a sweet gal and easy on the eyes.”

  “Jules is great,” Nick said, figuring better the enemy you know.

  “Tell me you didn’t break her heart.”

  Nick scoffed. “Naw. Nothing like that.”

  She’d been out of his league then. Now she was just plain dangerous. A reporter. His mind struggled to wrap around the concept.

  Gordon rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. Local girl, local guy. It’s all good.”

  Gordon was always working the angles. “I don’t know about this.”

  “I worked out a deal with the station manager that we reserve the right to edit the piece or scrap the whole thing if it doesn’t meet with our approval. Does that help?”

  A small consolation. One he could live with. “I suppose.”

  “Good. She’s waiting to come talk with you,” Gordon said. “I told the nurse to give me ten minutes and then send her in.”

  Nick wasn’t surprised to hear she was still at the hospital. She wanted her story. “Oh, by the way, Kitty followed me home to Bend. I saw her in the crowd tonight.”

  Katherine “Kitty” Rogers, a ski groupie, had been hounding him for the past year. When she’d first starting hanging around the competitions, making it clear she was there to see him, he’d been flattered. Amused, even, the first two or three times she appeared in the crowd. But then it started to creep him out. Last month she’d gone so far as to find his hotel room in Colorado and wait outside his door. She’d made it clear she was willing to be more than just an adoring fan. There was something slightly off about her that made him wary.

  Gordon wrinkled his nose. “She’s your biggest fan.”

  “She’s taking it to the extreme.”

  “Excuse me.” The nurse stood in the doorway. “There are two women waiting to see you, Mr. Walsh. A Julie Frost and a Kitty Rogers.”

  Of course Kitty was here. Nick nearly laughed at the irony. “Send in Jules, not Kitty.”

  The nurse nodded and retreated.

  “And the hits just keep on coming,” Nick commented dryly.

  A few minutes later Julie knocked on the door frame.

  “Come on in.” Nick drank in the sight of her. The pink color of her outfit heightened the rosy hue of her cheeks and brightened her crystal-blue eyes. Her sleek blond braid made him wonder if she was as tightly coiled. What would she do if he reached out and undid the band holding the strands together?

  “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” she said, moving farther into the room.

  “Much, thank you.” He didn’t like being in such a vulnerable position, trapped in bed wearing a hospital gown and totally at a disadvantage with a lovely lady.

  “There’s a woman out there waiting to see you,” Julie said. “Is she your girlfriend?”

  “No,” Nick said quickly and exchanged a glance with Gordon.

  Gordon stood. “Here, sit. I’ll take care of that situation.”

  Nick sent Gordon a grateful nod. He hoped Gordon would be able to send Kitty on her way. There was something in the woman’s eyes that gave him the same feeling that had seized him when his boot had shifted in the ski binding today.

  Julie took a seat and pulled out a notebook from the big flowered shoulder bag that she dropped at her feet.

  So she wanted to get down to business. He watched her slender hands flip open the pad, her pen poised. There was a noticeable lack of a wedding ring. Curious, he asked, “Where’s Mr. Frost tonight?”

  Julie grinned. “Afraid he’ll come storming in, jealous over me being at your bedside?”

  “I like to be prepared.”

  She laughed. “Frost is my stage name. Rolls off the tongue better than Tipton. There’s no mister attached to it or me.”

  “You never married?” He’d figured she’d have found some intellectual at the fancy college she’d surely attended and be happily married by now.

  Her gaze dropped to her hands. She fiddled with the pen. A shadow crossed over her face. “No. Never found the right guy.”

  “Too picky?”

  Her gaze shot up to meet his. Indignation flared in the light blue depths. “No. That’s not it all. Why would you say that?”

  He’d struck a nerve. Which made him more curious and stirred an ache in his chest he couldn’t explain. Had someone hurt her? The thought didn’t settle well. “I remember in high school you didn’t date. I figured you were holding out for a brainiac like yourself.” At least that was what he’d told himself when he’d chickened out and didn’t ask her to homecoming their junior year. Of course that was before he’d had his talk with Dad and realized falling in love, making a commitment, meant giving up on his dreams. Something he had no intention of ever allowing.

  A rueful twist touched her mouth, drawing his gaze again. “I didn’t date in high school because no one asked.”

  He felt like a heel. “I should have asked you.”

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I would have liked that.”

  “If you drop this whole interview thing, we could go on a date.” It had been a while since he’d dated anyone. Dating did not equal commitment. At least not to him, which was why he rarely dated.

  She inhaled sharply. “That would be like asking me to stop breathing, Nick.”

  “Good thing I know CPR.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You promised to tell me why you have a bodyguard,” she said briskly. “And why did you think the ambulance crash wasn’t an accident?”

  So much for dating her. “Someone’s trying to kill me.”

  THREE

  Julie’s jawed dropped. She snapped it shut as his words reverberated through her brain. Someone was trying to kill Nick?

  Her mind reeled. First his talk of dating if she’d drop the feature on him and now this? Nick’s story was bigger than she’d ever imagined. Her mind popped with questions. “Why would someone want to kill you? Who wants to kill you? What’s happened that would lead you to believe that?”

  “Whoa.” Nick held up a hand. “Slow down. Shouldn’t you be waiting for me to answer one question before you throw me another?”

  Her face flamed. “Of course. Yes. Sorry. You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

  He touched her arm. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”

  She took in a shuddering breath to calm her racing heart.

  “Better?”

  “Yes.” She poised her pencil over the pad of paper. “Okay. This is huge, Nick. Where’s Bob and his camera?” She tapped the pencil against the pad. “I’d like to get a shot of you here in the hospital, if you’d be comfortable with that.” From the appalled look on his face, she guessed he wasn’t. “Okay, scratch that idea.”

  “Please do. In fact, let’s call the whole interview off.”

  She searched his face, trying to decide if he was serious. His jaw was set. His eyes flinty. Yep, he was serious. “But we can’t. Surely you understand that.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not thrilled about being the subject of your interview.”

  “But you wi
ll go through with the interview, right?” She hated how desperate she sounded.

  His dark blue eyes narrowed. “Why is this so important to you?”

  Should she tell him what was at stake? She didn’t want to sound whiny or pathetic, but if he understood that her shot at becoming an on-air reporter hinged on how well she delivered this story for Northwest Edition, then maybe he’d cooperate. She didn’t have anything to lose except her pride.

  “This is my first big break. I went out on a limb and pitched this idea for a feature on you to my boss in hopes of securing a permanent on-camera spot. I can’t afford to keep working there if I don’t get this promotion.”

  “So what is your actual job now?”

  “I’m a production assistant.”

  “Ah, okay.” Nick repressed the chuckle that bubbled up. No wonder she’d been nervous and overly enthusiastic with her questions. And why she needed the promotion. He doubted being an assistant paid that well. “I’d like to help you, but...”

  She sat forward. “Mr. Davenport at Thunderbird was excited about the idea. He said he wanted to make new skin designs for your skis and to unveil them live during the segment.” Her voice rose slightly. Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip.

  His gaze landed on her mouth. She’d always had perfectly shaped lips. Soft and supple. Kissable. He remembered thinking that in high school. Of course back then her lips had been devoid of lipstick. She’d never been one to wear all that stuff on her face the way most of the teen girls did.

  Her lips parted slightly, making him aware he’d been staring.

  He could tell this meant a lot to her. But the anger he’d felt over the media raking Cody through the mud grated something fierce.

  She reached to touch his hand. Sympathy tinged her gaze. “I was sorry to hear about Cody’s accident. I sent flowers.”

  Nick’s breath hitched. Grief stabbed him. He fought the burning behind his eyes. The place where her fingers rested lightly on his hand created a hot spot, distracting him from the pain stirred up by her words. He hadn’t known she’d sent flowers. Of course, he hadn’t really been aware of much at the time. “That was thoughtful of you.”