by Debra Webb
Then all they had to do was make it back down to Ex press Creek trailhead so the helicopter could lift the victims out of here. The rescue teams would walk out if possible. If not—if the brewing storm had blown in—they'd hunker down in a snow cave until the helicopter came back for them after the weather settled. Every member of the team was prepared for waiting out the worst. Clad in Gore-Tex, polypropylene and Nomex protective wear, maintaining body heat wasn't an immediate issue. Still, with the recent heavy snowfall, they were all walking avalanche triggers. The utmost care had to be taken while maintaining an emergency pace.
Jayne leaned into the thirty-mile-per-hour wind and forced another step and then another until she reached the peak at the south end of Richmond Ridge. She stared back at the members of her team. Little dots floated across her line of vision like defects in her corneas. She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds to clear them away. Better. The snow would do that…play games with your vision. With the mind, too, if one wasn't careful.
A quick glance over the ridge and relief rushed through her. An upside-down flag, the universal distress signal, showed her exactly where the climbers had dug in. Thankfully the group had possessed the foresight to wear avalanche beacons and to dig in, making a snow cave for protection from the weather, once they'd realized they were beyond climbing out of their predicament. The latter had likely kept them alive through the bitterly harsh night.
"I'm going over," Jayne told Chad, the first member of her team to reach her position.
"Gotcha."
Chad Wade would serve as the "edge man," ensuring the safety rope stayed in place. The safety rope was swiftly rigged along the ground beside the edge of the cliff, then tied to two solid anchors, one being Chad. After anchoring her rappelling rope, Jayne clipped her harness to the safety rope and stepped over the edge into thin air.
She controlled her descent, stopping long enough to prop her feet against the cliff face, then leaned out, almost horizontal, and began the rigorous journey down to the jutting edge where the climbers had taken refuge after one member of their group had fallen. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Jayne's mind automatically went through the steps she would need to perform once she reached that precarious ledge.
She'd done this dozens of times. No need to be apprehensive. But somehow today felt different. She couldn't shake the uneasiness that increased with every foot she moved downward. She had no way to contact the trapped climbers other than to call out to them when she'd moved a little closer. A call from a cell phone had alerted the sheriff's office that they were in distress and the avalanche beacon had led the rescue team to their position but attempts at further contact via the cell phone had failed. Either the battery had died or…they had.
She wouldn't accept that. She gritted her teeth and pushed the worst-case scenario aside.
The radio strapped to her chest squawked. "You all right down there, Little Boss?"
Jayne couldn't help a smile. She was the only woman on the team. After the men had finally gotten used to having a female among them they'd eventually taken notice of her skill. Now she was second in command, the little boss. It only took one glimpse of her standing alongside the boss, the rescue team's leader, Walt Messina, for anyone to get the joke.
"No problems," she assured her watchful edge man. The other two members of her hasty team would be preparing for the arrival of the support personnel. Litters would need to be lowered if, as she suspected, the victims were unable to be hauled up with a mere harness.
"Mountain rescue!" she shouted downward. "Can anyone hear me?"
When her voice had stopped echoing, silence hung heavily in the frigid air.
Not good.
Almost there.
She readied herself for stepping onto the ledge. It wasn't more than seven or eight feet wide. Nothing but a jutting boulder from the rock face.
Reaching out for footing, Jayne stretched her right leg toward the ledge at the same time she reared her arm back to dig into the wall with a rock pick.
A jerky tug on the line made her freeze. She glanced upward a split second before the abrupt drop. Her heart rocketed into her throat, accompanied by the whiz of nylon and steel as she struggled to slow her fall.
Shouts and curses blasted from overhead.
Jayne grappled with her rope, trying to catch herself. The line rushed through her gloved fists like water pouring through a sieve. She swung her body like a pendulum, aiming for the rock face. Anything to slow her momentum.
She butted the mountain, then dropped another fifteen feet. The line jerked hard and she flopped against the rock face again. She groaned.
Three or four seconds passed before the realization penetrated that she'd stopped plummeting downward. Her heart sank back into her chest and started beating once more.
"Jayne, you okay?" Carl Brownfield's frantic voice rattled over the radio.
"Yeah, yeah." She sucked in a shuddering breath. Damn, that was too close. "I'm good. What the hell you guys doing up there?"
"The brake failed."
No kidding. Another deep, bolstering breath and she was ready to start the ascent required to regain the ground she'd lost.
"We're gonna haul you up, Little Boss." Chad's reassuring voice vibrated across the airwaves. "Just keep your balance. We've gotcha."
"Make sure you don't turn loose," Jayne offered with as chipper a tone as she could muster. Her edge man's strained chuckle told her she wasn't the only one nervous here, but she was the one suspended a few thou sand feet above the ground. She stole a glance downward and shivered. Long ways down.
As she moved upward her attention returned to the trapped climbers. No response yet. There was always the possibility that they couldn't hear her through the thick, insulating cave of snow.
"Mountain rescue! Can anyone hear me?" she called as she grabbed onto the ledge.
"Paul is on his way down," echoed from the radio.
Jayne glanced upward long enough to acknowledge that EMT Paul Rice was rappelling down to join her. She hoped like hell his services would be needed…she wanted this to be a live-victim rescue not a body recovery.
Jayne dug into the fresh snow that covered the small cave opening. "Mountain rescue," she repeated, her voice strained with equal measures exhaustion and determination. "Can anyone hear me?"
The sound was very nearly inaudible. A moan or sigh. But it was all she needed to resurrect hope. A gloved hand reached out to her and she smiled through the tears blurring her vision.
Thank God.
* * *
THE RETRIEVAL TOOK nearly two hours and the new storm had blown in before they were finished hauling the injured climbers from the ledge. Two of the men suffered from mild hypothermia, but the third man, the one who had initially fallen, was far worse. The various scrapes and bruises were nothing. The real problem was a flail chest—possible broken ribs with fluid buildup. This man would die if he didn't receive medical attention in a hurry.
Jayne and Paul, with the help of two from the support team, rushed the injured man to the waiting helicopter as quickly as possible with the wind and snow blinding their every step. With the victim's condition deteriorating rapidly the helicopter had no choice but to go with out the other two. The rescue team would carry the remaining victims out on litters. It wouldn't be easy nor would it be the first or the last time that kind of rescue would be necessary.
The best they could hope for was that everyone would survive.
Jayne pushed harder, sending up a silent prayer as her body strained to obey her commands. Please God, no new victims.
* * *
NIGHT HAD SETTLED over Aspen like a velvet, snow-capped blanket by the time the day's adventure was truly behind Jayne and the other members of mountain rescue. Coming down was like surfacing from a deep-sea scuba diving journey, the sense of returning to a different world. Home…but not quite. It would be hours, maybe days before the sensation passed.
With the battle between man
and nature and the race against time behind her, real life slowly came back into perspective. Her job as a backcountry trail guide, from which she would now be on hiatus until the elevated avalanche advisory had been lifted. Her tiny apartment above the Altitude Bar and Grill in the middle of downtown.
Here she was just another face in the crowd of locals who made a living off the thousands of tourists who flocked to the little resort town during the skiing season.
Statements had been given to the reporters who always showed up to cover rescues. The adrenaline was fading and bone-melting exhaustion had set in.
And still the victory party roared on. Rafe Gonzales, the owner of the Altitude Bar and Grill, provided steak, the trimmings and beer for all involved in the treacherous rescue. The camaraderie was nice, but about the only thing Jayne really wanted to do was slip into a steaming hot tub and then sleep like the dead. Rafe was having none of that. And he was right, she supposed. She did need to eat. Fuel her body to have the strength to make it through a bath before collapsing in bed.
"I thought you were a goner there when that brake failed," Chad said to her as he leaned close and offered his beer mug for a toast.
She managed a faint laugh. "Me, too."
"I should have kept a better check on the equipment." His face had turned far too solemn. He clearly blamed himself for the incident. Like man, things created by man failed from time to time. No one was perfect.
"It happens, Chad." She clinked her mug to his.
"Equipment fails. Some things just can't be foreseen. Don't beat yourself up."
Paul Rice dropped into a vacant chair at their table. "He's gonna make it," he announced before taking a long draw from his beer.
"Good." Jayne knew he meant the climber with the flail chest. "He was damn lucky."
"Damn lucky," Chad echoed.
They were all damn lucky.
Jayne finally allowed herself to relax as she watched her teammates do the same. The day had been hell, the weather seriously evil. But they had rescued the victims and hadn't created any new ones. In the end, that was all that mattered.
She ate, drank a couple more beers and then said her good-nights. She was dead on her feet. Had to call it a night or go to sleep right there on the table in spite of the music and the crowd of revelers. The guys gave her the usual ribbing, calling her a sissy but tonight she didn't care—didn't even bother retaliating. She'd get them for it later. Mountain rescue teams underwent periodic training, intensive training. Whenever Walt couldn't be there, she was in charge. They would pay. A smile slid across her lips. Oh, how they would pay.
Jayne trudged through the storeroom and up the backstairs to the second floor. The upstairs portion of the building had been renovated years ago into two apartments. A large one that took up most of the floor space for the owner and his wife who had passed away a couple of years ago. And the second into a mother-in-law suite. But the mother-in-law was long gone, too. Rafe was all alone now. He and his wife had never had children so the extra room was rented out. Jayne had moved in three years ago and had never left.
The place provided all that she needed. She opened the door and went inside, not bothering to lock it. She didn't have to worry about security. Rafe had a state-of-the-art system on the first floor for after hours. During opening hours the kitchen and bar staff made sure no unauthorized persons entered their territory.
Jayne liked it here. She'd spent most of her time until age twenty-one either in chilly Chicago or sunny California and, in her opinion, Colorado was the perfect balance. Nice summers with amazing winters. The white-capped mountains were awesome all year round. She adored the feel of small-town living in Aspen, though when the tourists and seasonal dwellers arrived the population more than quadrupled.
After her mother's death she'd stayed in California a while but eventually she'd needed a change and this had been it. Becoming a member of mountain rescue had given her the physical and mental challenge she had longed for but hadn't been able to find. Apparently she was an adrenaline junkie just like her father. Living on the edge, surviving danger appeared to be the only ob session that satisfied her lust. Too bad she couldn't share that with anyone. Most of the time it didn't bother her, but once in a while when the guys would start talking about their families, she felt a little left out. She always got over it. That was a lesson she'd learned long ago.
Don't dwell on things you can't change.
When the tub brimmed with steaming water she peeled off the layers of Nomex and Gore-Tex and long underwear. The soothing water welcomed her like a lover. In fact she couldn't imagine any man giving her the satisfaction that the hot, enveloping embrace a long, hot soak offered. But then, she was a little cynical when it came to men. Not men in general, just lovers and husbands.
She'd watched her mother waste away, in love with a man who was more apparition than husband. Jayne's first love affair had ended badly in college, mainly because she had managed to maintain a higher grade point average and get through her classes faster, ultimately leaving him behind. Men didn't like to be outdone it seemed. Maybe that's what had gone wrong the last time, as well. The man she'd thought was special apparently hadn't been able to deal with her rescue work. So, like her old college beau, he'd dropped out of her life without so much as a goodbye. Poof…he was gone.
Still, there were men in her life. Her father, though she saw him only rarely. She'd long ago forgiven him for basically deserting her and her mother. He had done and still did what he had to do. Her teammates. She cared deeply for each one, respected them all as equals. But even among those fine men she saw the primal beasts that roared beneath their civilized exteriors. They loved the adrenaline rush of a rescue, would risk life and limb regardless of wives and children at home. They would take days on end off work to go on a rescue, ensuring a constant state of financial chaos.
But how could she hold against her teammates the very defect she recognized in herself? She couldn't. Though to her credit, she didn't have a spouse or children. Probably never would. Jayne frowned. How did one trust anyone that much? Love was one thing, because she certainly loved her father, cared deeply for her teammates, Walt and Rafe. She smiled at the thought of her landlord who was more family than friend. The crusty old man was like an uncle to her. Her only family actually since she so seldom saw her father. Loving a man wasn't the real problem, it was the "in" love thing, she supposed.
Trust was an altogether different animal. She trusted the team and her close friends here. She just wasn't sure she could trust anyone with her whole heart and her body. Sex was nice, but falling "in" love…hmm…she'd have to think about that sometime when she wasn't to tally exhausted.
Or never.
She didn't need a husband to be complete.
Jayne Stephens was happy.
She drew in a deep, contented breath and sank deeper into the water. Her life was as close to perfect as one could get. She lived in the perfect town, had great friends who didn't get into her business. What else could she ask for?
Pushing away the hint of doubt that lingered, she washed her hair and soaked a while longer before reluctantly dragging her wholly relaxed body from the cooling water. She wrapped her dripping hair in a towel then pulled on her ancient terry cloth robe without bothering to dry off. She'd draped the robe over the radiator to warm it while she soaked. The heat wrapped around her now, making her moan appreciatively.
Hot cocoa. That would be the ultimate ending to the evening. Then she planned to sleep for at least twelve hours. It would be days before the avalanche advisory would be lifted and that gave her a nice break from work. Maybe she'd even get to spend her birthday doing something totally frivolous like shopping.
Twenty-five. She shuddered. Somehow that sounded so old. Pushing the thought away, she reminded herself that she was still twenty-four…at least for a couple more days.
She filled the kettle with water and lit the stove eye. A hefty mug, a couple of marshmallows and one-fourth cup of
milk added in for richness and she'd be in business. The cocoa might be instant but she'd learned how to doctor it up making it taste almost as good as the pricey concoction they offered at the coffee shop across the street.
A soft rap on her front door drew her there. The kitchen and living room were one fairly spacious room. A tiny hall opposite the front door led to her bedroom and bathroom, which were admittedly cramped. De spite the lack of actual square footage, the soaring, beamed ceilings of the ancient architecture and the massive front window overlooking snow-laden sidewalks and twinkling storefronts made the place at once cozy and chic.
Jayne pulled the door open without identifying the visitor. This was a close community, everyone knew everyone else.
Walt Messina, the rescue team's commander-in-chief—so to speak—and her boss at Happy Trails, towered in her doorway.
"I heard about the brake failure," he growled. Walt was like a big old bear. But, to those who knew him well, he was all bark and no bite. Another man she felt intensely fond of.
She nodded. "Gave me a bit of a scare but Chad took control of the situation." She opened the door wider and stepped back for her boss to come inside.
He shook his head. "I don't want to intrude." He noted her robe. "Just needed to ask a favor of you."
Jayne's senses went on alert. Walt didn't ask for favors, he gave orders, generally without justifying them first. For the second time today a sense of things not being right nudged her.
"What's up?" She propped against the door, her weary legs reminding her she'd been through a lot today.
Walt stared at the floor a moment. "Well, I've got an old friend at the Denver Post who needs something from me."
Jayne raised her eyebrows in question. She hadn't a clue what this could have to do with her but obviously her boss did. "You're originally from Denver, right?" she asked for lack of anything else to say.
