Stranded on Vail Mountain Page 3

  Taking a deep breath, she twisted the knob just as she thought she heard something on the porch. Her eyes widened, and she jumped back as the door opened. The suddenness of the wind and snow caught her off balance, and she tried to catch herself from falling. She didn’t have time to yell as she felt herself collapse and closed her eyes imagining the pain of the hard floor. Suddenly, gravity paused, and she felt strong arms come around her. She gasped and looked up into the only part of his face that was visible, his eyes. Snow covered his scarf and every inch of his hard body. They stared at each other, their eyes locked. She watched as his gaze moved down to her lips. She shivered, breaking the silent hold of his gaze.

  Setting her back on her feet, he straightened, and she noticed the bucket at his feet for the first time.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his words once again muffled by the scarf.

  Blushing, she limped back and nodded. “Y-yes,” she answered through chattering teeth.

  He shook his head and motioned back to the fire. “Go get warm. I’m going to melt some snow for water. I set some traps for food, so we’ll see about eating something more sustaining than the MRE packets I brought. They don’t taste the best.”

  Chapter 3

  Stephen watched as Joan hopped back towards the fire and sat down on the floor in front of it, shaking but, for the most part, intact. He walked over to the corner and dug around in the small pile of supplies that had been left by the resort, just for their occasions and lost hikers. There were a few more pans, and he even managed to find a few cans of beans. Jackpot. Anything was better than the MREs.

  He felt her eyes on him as he worked near the fire, melting some snow for water. He put in another pan and poured in the can of beans. Before long, the smell of beans filled the cabin, and he could have sworn he heard her stomach growl. He turned and looked at her, spying the blush that stained her white cheeks. Chuckling, he finished setting everything up and stepped back.

  “Hungry?” he asked again, teasing her. He enjoyed watching as the blush darkened.

  “Maybe a little,” she quipped, showing a spark of life for the first time.

  Within ten minutes, he had found a few spoons but no plates. Shrugging, he pulled the pan from the fire and put it between the two, cocking a brow at her.

  “I don’t have cooties.” He didn’t know why he kept teasing her. That wasn’t like him at all. He hadn’t flirted with a woman in years, not since his ex-wife, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop.

  She’s married, Brockheart!

  And then suddenly, he heard it again, and it felt as it had the first time.

  Her laugh.

  It was soft and beautiful, not annoying like most he had found. It floated over to him, and his heartbeat picked up to where he could almost hear it. His eyes moved down to her lips for the second time that morning and then back up to the amusement in her eyes. The enjoyment faded as they stared at each other, the food in the middle forgotten for the moment.

  He saw a small shiver move her bare shoulders from where the blanket had fallen, and he cleared his throat, nodding towards the food as he handed her a spoon.

  “Eat up. The food will help warm you.”

  Before long, the pan was empty, and they were both full.

  Sighing, Joan leaned back on her elbows, her legs pointed toward the fire, the ice pack on her ankle.

  “That was good.”

  Stephen agreed. It was filling, but the few cans in the corner wouldn’t last them for what he feared was going to be days if the blizzard didn’t stop soon. He hadn’t asked his boss how long it was going to be. He hadn’t thought it would matter, that it would be a simple mission like all the others. Instead, they were trapped on the mountain with very limited options.

  Smart move, Brockheart, he thought, mentally shaking his head.

  At least they were fed and warm for the moment. He looked around as the silence between them turned awkward. Joan stared into the fire, the light from the blaze highlighting her high cheek bones and fair complexion. The awkward silence turned into minutes, and he struggled to come up with something to break it, but he had always been a loner. The silence had never bothered him before, but for some reason, he ached to learn more about her.

  He was coming up blank.

  Think, Brockheart, think!

  He heard her sigh and glanced over at her beautiful profile.

  “Do you ever wonder about life?” she asked quietly, her eyes still on the fire. “Wonder what’s meant to be and what path will lead you to where you’re supposed to be?”

  He was surprised by her question, but at least it was something. He thought about his answer and decided to be honest. He usually didn’t talk about his past, but for some reason, it didn’t bother him to reveal it to the woman beside him.

  “All the time,” he answered, staring at the fire as well. “When I got married, I had our whole life planned out.” He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn’t turn or he wouldn’t finish. “Our whole life down to kids and dogs. But was it the path to where I’m supposed to be?” He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. She left me for another man, said she couldn’t live on the mountain any longer. She didn’t even give me the chance to make a few changes, but would I if given that chance? I can’t answer that either. I don’t know.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  He let himself think about that for a moment.

  He shook his head at the immediate answer of his heart. “I miss the dreams I had, miss the life I had dreamed about, but do I miss or love her? No. And that makes me think that I never really loved her, at least not enough. So again, was it just the path to where I’m supposed to be, or was it meant to be and I ruined it?”

  “Yeah,” Joan sighed, turning back towards the fire. “The dreams, I’m familiar with,” she muttered.

  “He was a fool, Joan,” he said, using her name for the first time.

  Startled, she turned back towards him, and their eyes locked, hers wide and his filled with conviction.

  “He was a fool,” he repeated quietly.

  They sat side by side, not touching and yet so close. He could feel her body heat, and with the blizzard raging outside and the world cut off and quiet, their closeness felt that much more powerful.

  The blanket had slipped down to the high rise of her breasts, threatening to fall to her lap. He waited to see if it would, hoping and praying he could have a peek of the perfection in front of him, but fate was not in his favor as she righted the blanket. She moved back, leaving more than a few inches between them.

  Early the next morning around six, if his calculations were correct, Stephen trudged through the snow behind the cabin, the blizzard and blowing snow tapering off as the sunrise turned the sky a faded pink just above the trees. The flickering shadows of the mountains receded back towards the dark crevices of the rocky terrain making travel possible but hazardous.

  He glanced around thinking about the possibility of heading back that morning. With a better calculation of where they were, he figured the resort was straight down about six or seven miles, not far by normal standards but dangerous with their situation.

  Can we make it in less than a day before dark? he wondered. Normally, he would have said yes, but with Joan tired and in pain, not to mention her ankle, it would be cutting it close.

  He headed for the traps he had set in the woods the day before, the slits of the scarf over his face protecting his flesh from the subzero temperature of the mountains.

  He walked closer to where he had set the traps, having left Joan back in the cabin sleeping next to the fire. Thinking of her leg, Stephen knew she was in more pain than she was letting on, but she never mentioned it. Sometimes the only way he could tell she was in pain was by the paleness of her face or the tightening around her lips, the flash of pain in her blue eyes that she couldn’t hide. He hated to see her suffering, yet at the moment, he couldn’t do anything about it, and that about killed him. They had to get off the m
ountain, but the snow was deep, and if they weren’t careful, there was the possibility of a deadly avalanche. This mountain was known for it, and he didn’t want anything to happen to her. He hadn’t known her for very long, less than twenty-four hours to be precise, and yet there was something there, something he couldn’t identify. He knew she felt it, too. It was there in her blue eyes, the mysterious flicker of her hidden thoughts.

  He made it to the traps and bent down, knocking the snow from the top with his gloved hands.

  Nothing.

  Damn it. Sighing, he straightened and turned, freezing at the sight in front of him.

  Fuck!

  A large mountain lion stood a few feet off to the right between the trees. The animal watched him, eyes narrowed and broad shoulders hunched, as if deciding whether or not to attack. It resembled an oversized cat, its long tail pointed down towards the snow-covered ground. It was about six feet long and 120 pounds if his estimate was right. It didn’t look very old, maybe a few years if that, which could be a good or bad thing. Older meant less risk of attack while younger posed a higher risk but easier to defeat as they weren’t very fluid and experienced in their attacks.

  Shooting a quick glance at the back of the cabin, barely visible through the snow-laden trees, he kept his eyes on the cat watching as it's back hunched, paws wide and head lowered. Straightening as tall as he could, Stephen stood still.

  “Go away,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

  The cat’s dark eyes narrowed as Stephen’s deep voice echoed in the silence of the forest.

  Stephen crouched down, digging his boots into the snow for a better fighting stance as he waited.

  Chapter 4

  Joan was starting to get worried as the minutes passed and Stephen hadn’t returned.

  Struggling to get up, she hopped over to the back window and peered out, delighted to see the snow waning and the sun peeking out of the trees.

  Excitement pulling her mouth into a grin, she scanned the trees, taking in the white scenery sparkling in the early morning sun as if diamonds were scattered among the surface of the snow.

  Suddenly, she froze, her eyes zooming in on the sight before her.

  Oh God, no.

  Her heart pounding, she saw Stephen standing past the tree line. Snow came up to his knees, and it didn’t give him much room to maneuver as his large frame stood motionless. Feeling as though she may pass out, her stance wavered, the world spinning in fear. A large animal stood a few feet from Stephen looking as if it was about to attack. It looked like a big cat, its ears pointed and huge head lowered.

  Her heart in her throat, she looked around wildly for a weapon, anything to use to scare off the beast. Her eyes lit on his pack in the corner, and she remembered the gun he carried.

  Limping as fast as she could, Joan bent down and ripped open the pack, the contents flying as she searched frantically for the black gun.

  Spying it at the bottom of the pack, she grabbed it, careful to keep her fingers off the trigger as she stood up on shaking legs.

  Trembling, she staggered over to the door and opened it as quietly as she could, flinching at the creak that erupted from the metal hinges that probably hadn’t been oiled since the cabin was built.

  Spying the thigh deep snow made her want to give up.

  Quit being a coward, Joan! He needs help!

  Taking a deep breath, she cringed as the coldness immediately seeped into her jeans that had taken her forever to dry. Straightening her shoulders, she took determined steps towards the back of the cabin, stopping at the corner of the structure as soon as she had a clear shot. Noticing the silencer on the gun, she unscrewed it for the warning shot, her hands shaking.

  Raising the gun, her ankle barely helped to hold her upright. She had never shot a gun before, and she hated the feel of the cold metal in her hands, so without thinking, she cocked the hammer and aimed it up in the sky, praying that it worked.

  Stephen heard the cock, and his stomach dropped at the sound.

  With a slow movement, he looked out of the corner of his eyes and spied Joan at the corner of the cabin, the snow coming up to her thighs and his pistol in her shaking hand.

  Fuck!

  He opened his mouth to warn her, to order her to put the gun down, but it was too late as a loud blast shattered the silence of the mountain.

  The cat in front of him jerked at the sound and whirled towards Joan, its lean body tense. The cat turned and disappeared into the trees, but Stephen didn’t relax. That had been a big mistake on Joan’s part. The cabin was in the middle of the mountain, at the base of the tallest peak. The sound could have...

  Without a word, he shot out from his frozen spot in the trees and raced over to Joan’s shaking body as she leaned against the wall.

  They had to move before…

  Just as he made it over to her side, a loud rumbling from behind him signaled what he had known was coming. He didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder.

  “What is the”

  “Move now. Inside!”

  Her eyes widened, and he grabbed her by the arm, dragging her towards the open door.

  Joan sputtered and tried to talk, but he didn’t give her a chance as he tossed her in and jumped in behind her, slamming the door shut.

  They were so fucked.

  “What the hell is your problem? I just saved your ass and.”

  She didn’t get a chance to finish as the cabin shook. Stephen grabbed her and pushed her skinny ass into the corner away from the windows and door.

  He bent over her, covering her body with his own as the sounds grew louder. It would be a miracle if the cabin didn’t come up from the weak foundation and roll their asses down the side of the mountain. They wouldn’t survive.

  The sound of the wind and snow hitting the side of the cabin deafened them to everything else. Even if they had talked, they wouldn’t have been able to hear each other. He held her tighter against him, her head lowered against his neck.

  The sound finally died down until it was eerily quiet. They didn’t move, seeming frozen against each other as they waited.

  Stephen moved first, pulling back. Looking down at her, he scanned her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

  Nodding shakily, she took a deep breath. “W-what happened?”

  “Avalanche,” he said grimly. He slowly stood up as she gasped, her eyes widening to saucers.

  “Avalanche?” she squeaked, still kneeling in the corner. Her brown hair mussed and face pale, she resembled a porcelain doll that looked as if it were going to shatter at any moment.

  He didn’t answer as he walked over to the front window. It was completely covered. He turned to the back window expecting it to look the same, fearing the hopeless task of having to dig themselves out, but a grin spread across his face as he spied a sliver of sunlight shining through the top of the window.

  “Hell yes,” he whispered, still afraid to raise his voice. To say they had survived an avalanche was a miracle in itself. Not many people did, as the speed of the snow was that of a racing car.

  Walking over to his pack and the scattered contents, he couldn’t find anything to shatter the glass. It looked double pane to help with the cold and weather of the Colorado mountain. Not an easy break. Looking around, he saw a fire poker lying on the floor across the room where it must have rolled as the cabin shook. He quickly picked it up and walked back over to the window, holding it firmly in his large hands.

  Joan remained silent, slowly coming to her feet as she watched him.

  Stephen tightened his grip on the metal bar and swung, his muscles bunching beneath his grey shirt as the metal connected with the glass with a hard jolt. Cracks spread like spider webs throughout the glass, but on the second and third swing, he was staring through an open window with packed snow blocking their only exit except for that small stream of light. Lips tight with determination, Stephen dug the snow out of the window, the pile at his feet. Within m
inutes, he had made a hole.

  “I did it, didn’t I?” Joan asked quietly from behind him. “I caused the avalanche.”

  “Yes. The blast from the gun.”

  “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  Stephen turned and met her eyes. He saw the apology in their blue depths and a small grin tugged at his mouth.

  “I know. And I appreciate it.”

  He nodded towards the supplies now spread out across the floor of the cabin. “Could you gather up my things? We have to make the trek down the mountain. We can’t stay here.”

  She nodded and turned to follow orders, limping and kneeling down to quietly gather up everything, putting it back in the bag.

  “Joan.”

  At her name, she turned and looked over at Stephen, her eyes puzzled and fearful.

  “We’ll make it. I’ll get you home.”

  His words were soft, but the conviction behind each syllable reassured her beyond anything he could have said.

  She finished gathering the contents and zipped the bag, standing up with a quiet wince that she tried to hide, but Stephen saw it.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He looked down at her ankle and knew it hurt like a bitch. If he had to, he would carry her. He hated to see her in pain, but there was nothing that could be done. They had to leave before something else happened or they froze to death, the second being a stronger possibility than the first at that point.

  He saw her straighten, and determination flashed in her beautiful eyes as she nodded, her dark hair falling forward. She pushed it back and turned, walking over to the fire to make sure it was out. His eyes followed her for a second as his respect for her grew. Most women he knew would have made his life hell trapped in the mountains. They would have been demanding, screaming for him to do something like rich snobs he couldn’t stand, and yet Joan was different, so different than any woman he knew. Even if she were a bit naive in the aspects of life, she was smart, and that made all the difference.