Stranded on Vail Mountain Page 5

  Scowling, he stopped and stared at her. He envisioned Joan devastated and heartbroken because of what this woman had done to her. He didn’t have any sympathy for her. It hadn’t been her husband who had been found frozen to death.

  He started to go around her, but her words followed him, stopping him in tracks.

  “I really loved him.”

  At her words, he stiffened but stared straight ahead, not willing to respond to that.

  “He’s really gone, and I can’t tell him one more time that I loved him. I-I know J-Joan hates me, and I-I’m sorry, s-so sorry, but I-I loved him.”

  Sobs strangled what else she had been about to say, and he looked over at her, his eyes dispassionate.

  “He was her husband,” he said quietly.

  Her eyes red and her blonde hair tangled down her back, she rocked back and forth, her legs shaking with each sob that burst out of her throat. “I-I know."

  Stephen turned away and continued on to the office. There was nothing to say.

  He knocked on the office door.

  “Come on in,” Rob called from the other side.

  Stephen walked in finding his boss at his desk in the middle of the room, the ice glazed window at his back.

  Rob looked up from his paperwork and leaned back, a tired smile on his lean face.

  “We were about to give up,” Rob confessed, a tired sigh erupting from him. “You had us really worried, man.”

  Stephen raked his hand through his hair, really craving a shower and sleep, but he had his report to get in before the next morning.

  “I know. I was worried, too.” He started to say more, but Rob had stood up and walked over to him, slapping him on his back. Normally, the pat wouldn’t have moved him, but he stumbled forward, catching himself on the desk before humiliating himself further.

  “Take a room upstairs,” Rob said. “Your report is done except for the twenty-four hours you were missing, but you can do that tomorrow. Get some rest, Stephen. Now.”

  For once, Stephen wasn’t going to argue.

  “Thanks, man.”

  He turned to leave, but Rob’s voice stopped him.

  “She’s alive because of you. They all are. You’re a hell of a park ranger, Stephen. Thank you.”

  Stephen didn’t want any thanks, and before the last twenty-four hours, he would have said he had just been doing his job, but now…

  Chapter 7

  Joan couldn’t sleep. All she could think of was the pain of betrayal and her husband’s dead body lying beneath her.

  Coffee sounds good, she thought, sighing. Before the trip, she had practically lived on coffee. She couldn’t believe it had been two days since she had had any.

  I’m fixing that right now.

  Joan, in her red, baggy pajamas, opened her bedroom door and glanced out to make sure the coast was clear. She didn’t want to run into anyone and be forced to be rude. Frankly, she still wanted to be left alone, and that included everyone.

  She headed downstairs and into the lobby. Shadows flickered on the walls as the flames blazed and crackled in the stone fireplace. She spied a large clock hanging on the wall doused in the fire’s light.

  2:46 a.m.

  Everything looked so cozy. She was almost tempted to sit on the couch and just relax, but with that urge came the risk of being caught by anyone walking by, and she wasn’t in the mood to socialize.

  Shaking her head, she limped towards the kitchen, praying she could find it. She hadn’t explored since arriving the night before, deciding to stay in her room to avoid Stacy.

  Before long, she found the kitchen, and the smell of coffee filled the air. She inhaled the aroma and poured herself a cup. She lifted it to her lips just as a deep voice drifted over to her.

  “Have another cup?”

  Gasping, she whirled around to the sight of Stephen leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded across his naked chest. The cup stumbled in her hand, and the hot liquid hit her flesh.

  “Ouch!”

  Cursing, the cup fell to the floor, shattering into pieces at her feet.

  “Fuck. Joan, I’m sorry!”

  Stephen rushed over to her, and without warning, he picked her up around her slender waist and set her on the counter. She gasped, surprised yet again.

  “Hold on.”

  “What are you” she started, watching as he grabbed her burnt hand and put it under the cold stream of water. The fire lessened as he kept cursing at himself, even calling himself some not so nice names.

  Catching those, she grinned, the burning already fading before he even wrapped her hand in a cold rag. Her eyes trailed down his body, loving the sight in front of her. His buff arms and broad chest rippled with muscles, and his jeans hugged his taut hips and thick legs.

  Damn.

  Her breathing ragged, he caught her looking, and she flushed, dropping her eyes to her lap.

  The burning sting was gone, and she tried to jump off to downplay the injury, but he caught her and stopped her motion, his large hands spanning her waist.

  “Do you like what you see?’ he asked, his voice soft and deep as it slid over her.

  She trembled at the sound, and her mouth went dry. He stood between her silky legs, his chest a few inches from her breasts. Her thin pajamas allowed her to feel everything.

  She couldn’t speak and saw his hand come up, his fingers sliding beneath her chin. Pressing up, her head lifted, and she raised her eyes, meeting his, dark and stormy.

  His eyes slid down, caressing her lips with his gaze.

  She finally found her voice, and it came out shaky. “Stephen…”

  “Shhhhh,” he whispered. He stepped closer, his rough thumb causing her bottom lip to tingle as his other hand caressed her waist and hip.

  “I”

  Suddenly, the hall clock clanged, signaling an hour change, but it was enough to throw cold water on the both of them.

  Startled, but seeing her chance to escape before they both did something they would regret, Joan jumped down beside him, careful to keep her weight off of her ankle.

  “I think I can sleep now. Goodnight, Stephen,” she said quietly.

  With that, she turned and limped back to her room as fast as her weak legs would carry her, and this time, she couldn’t blame the weakness on the environment.

  Once in her room, she sat on her bed, her breathing still ragged. It had been close. She was leaving in the morning, going back to Manhattan, to her job and life. The window caught her eyes, and they widened at the sight outside.

  She cursed and stood up, limping over to the window and the snow pounding the ground. Already, the cars were door deep, and if it kept up, they would be completely covered and the resort snowed in with no idea of when they could get out.

  Damn it!

  Stephen watched Joan limp out of the kitchen and wanted to hit the wall, hit something as the haze of desire faded the farther she retreated from him.

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  Her husband had just died, found frozen, and he was hitting on his widow! Granted, the other man had been a bastard anyways, but fuck, his mamma had raised him better than that!

  He ran his hand through his mussed hair and cursed as he looked down. “Down boy. This is not happening!”

  Muttering, he headed for his own room determined to leave early the next morning. He was due for some vacation, and by God, he was going to take it!

  Early the next morning, Stephen stared out the window, watching as the snow continued to fall, the tops of the vehicles barely visible against the backdrop of white. It was useless to rage against the scene before him. He was resigned to being snowed in, but it made it that much harder to figure out what to do.

  Sighing, he turned and headed down to the first floor and the office.

  Stephen knocked and entered, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He spotted Rob by the window, his back to the door.

  “What's the word?” he asked, taking a cautiou
s sip of the black liquid as he walked over to stand next to his boss, looking out the window as well.

  Rob shook his head, his eyes scanning the mountain. “This weather is crazy. When was the last time we had this much snow?”

  “I can't remember. A few years. 2008?”

  Rob sighed. “How many guests do we have?”

  Stephen thought for a moment. “Six, if the other guys were successful in their rescue mission. Did the rest of the resort evaluate?”

  Rob nodded. “They checked everyone out before the second blizzard hit except for the ones we have.”

  Meaning the idiots. Just great.

  “How long before the break in the system?”

  Rob shrugged. “Could be hours. Could be a few days. We are cut off for the time being. The other rangers managed to head out last night for home before the second wave hit, so we have the guests, a few of the staff, medical personnel, and you and me.”

  A noise from behind them brought their attention around to see Joan standing in the doorway, a resigned expression on her beautiful face.

  “So we can't leave?” she asked.

  Motioning to the door, she sent them an apologetic look. “I'm sorry. The door was open.”

  Rob smiled at her. “No, it's okay. Open door policy around here. Yeah, we are snowed in for the moment.”

  That’s an understatement, Stephen thought.

  His eyes roamed over Joan, landing on her ankle brace.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  Joan shrugged. “I'll live.”

  They heard a voice in the lobby, and he watched as Joan cringed, her eyes widening.

  Her eyes met his. “You mean I'm stuck with her?” The question came out weak but filled with horror as the voice got louder, coming towards them. “Well, fuck.”

  Before he could respond to that comment, she turned and disappeared just as Stacy made an appearance, her blonde hair messy and black eye makeup smeared.

  “What's going on?” she demanded. “I want to go home.”

  Rob sighed and shot Stephen a look that spoke volumes of what he thought about that statement.

  “Ma’am, at the moment, no one is leaving. We are snowed in, so the only thing you can do is make yourself at home for the time being. We have plenty of supplies for these occasions, and as soon as we are able, we’ll get you down the mountain.”

  “And what about Michael? We need to bring him home.”

  Tears in her eyes and voice, her lips trembled at the mention of her lover, regardless of what she had done to his marriage and his widow, her best friend.

  Stephen looked over at her in disgust, unable to believe her audacity.

  “Ma’am, at the moment, no one is leaving this building,” Rob stressed, walking over to stand in front of her. “There is coffee in the lobby for your convenience.”

  His words were final, ending the conversation.

  They stared at each other until she finally turned and walked away.

  “This is going to be a blast,” Stephen said sarcastically.

  Rob couldn't respond to that. He didn't even try.

  Joan was thankful she made it back to her room without encountering anyone. Closing the door behind her, she stood still, her eyes landing on the window blanketed in white, and considered her situation due to the blizzard. She was stuck. Michael was dead. Her ex best friend had betrayed her in the worst possible way, and she couldn't leave. In short, she was stuck with her dead husband’s lover. Tears burned her eyes, and her throat tightened.

  She jumped at the sudden knock on her door, and she glanced over at it, silent. She just wanted them to go away. She waited for them to leave, but another firm knock told her of their determination.

  Sighing, she opened the door.

  “Yes?”

  She locked eyes with Stephen.

  “How are you holdin’ up?”

  She raised an eyebrow, calling his question ridiculous with one silent look. “Seriously?”

  A sheepish look on his face, he ran his lean fingers through his hair, shifting from foot to foot. “Sorry. Look, the weather should break soon, and we can get you out of here.”

  “In the meantime? I'm stuck.”

  Sighing, he nodded. “Looks that way.”

  “Maybe I can walk,” she muttered, hating the idea of her reality, but there was nothing anyone could do. She would be a bitch to demand otherwise, and at least she was alive. They were alive, she amended, staring at Stephen. If it hadn't have been for the man standing in front of her, she would be dead, frozen on the mountain like Michael.

  At the thought of her husband, her throat tightened again just as Stephen chuckled, missing the sudden expression on her face.

  “No walking.”

  Sighing, she nodded, resigned. “You're right. Thank you for checking up on me, but I'm fine.”

  “Would you like some breakfast?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you. I'm not hungry.”

  “Okay. Well, if you change your mind, the kitchen is open.”

  She gave him a small smile as she started to close the door in his face. “Thank you.”

  With that, the door was closed.

  Chapter 8

  Stephen walked back downstairs to encounter the rest of the guests standing around the fire.

  “When can we leave?” one woman demanded, her black hair standing on end as she glared at him as if he was to blame for the conditions of the mountain and her vacation.

  Dressed in tight jeans and a black sweater, she stood tall with her arms crossed over her large breasts. The man standing beside her nodded, as did the other two behind him.

  Stephen sighed, seeing his chances of not babysitting stupid idiots going up in smoke as he stared at the four idiots in question. Stacy and Joan were missing, but they were probably hiding from each other, which wasn’t a bad thing. The last thing he needed was a catfight.

  “Hello, everyone. My name is Stephen Brockheart, and I apologize for the inconvenience of the weather.”

  It was said sarcastically, but none of them caught it as they all glared at him like the blizzard was his fault.

  He glanced down at the clipboard his boss had handed him on his way out of the office.

  “I’m just going to go through the names real quick to make sure I have everyone. Anna Burner?”

  The black haired woman, who was still glaring at him, nodded.

  He looked down at the next name on his list.

  “Robert Burner?”

  The black haired man standing beside her nodded as well.

  “William and Laura Conner?”

  The two standing off to the side directly in front of the fireplace nodded his way, signaling their acknowledgement.

  He lowered the clipboard and scanned their irritated faces. They didn’t look happy, and he couldn’t say he blamed them on that score.

  “Well, the kitchen is open, so please feel free to wander around, get some coffee, read, relax, and we will keep you updated on the blizzard conditions and when we will be able to transport you down the mountain. I don’t think I need to mention not to leave the building?” he added, trying to cover the sarcasm with a small smile.

  “Do you have an estimated time frame?” Robert demanded.

  Stephen swallowed his sarcastic remark to that idiotic question and glanced over at him.

  “No, sir, I don’t. And I don’t make promises I can’t keep, so again, we will let you know as soon as we do. Thank you.”

  He didn’t give the others time to demand answers before he turned and walked towards the staircase, wishing he was anywhere but at the resort. For all he cared, the four below could fend for themselves. At least they were warm, clothed, and fed.

  You would think they would be grateful for that, Stephen thought, shaking his head.

  It had only been two days since returning from the mountain, but Joan was going stir crazy as the blizzard raged outside.

  Besides eating a quick bite in
the kitchen, taking a fast shower, and going to the bathroom, she hadn’t left the bedroom, wanting to avoid any confrontation with Stacy or anyone else.

  What little sunlight shone through the wall of falling snow was dimming as evening approached. Joan glanced down at her cell phone for the eighth time and sighed, pacing the room. She felt like a coward for staying in her room, but she couldn’t decide who she was avoiding more, Stephen or Stacy. She couldn’t face Stacy yet. The pain was still too fresh, but Stephen…

  Stephen was making her feel things she hadn’t felt in years, emotions she didn’t trust, not after everything that had happened.

  She had to get out, take a walk, regardless of the blizzard.

  Joan walked over to her suitcase and threw on her heavy coat, hat and gloves. Once bundled up, she headed downstairs and through the kitchen without being seen.

  So far, so good.

  She pulled open the back door and snuck out, the cold slapping her in the face as she almost slipped on the first step. As she closed the door behind her, her chest hurt from the bitter wind, but she didn’t back down and go inside. She needed to think, and she wanted to think outside, damn it.

  Making it to solid ground without falling on her ass, Joan trudged through the snow. Suddenly, she paused and glanced back, the lights dim from the white-out conditions of the mountain.

  I’m a fool

  Puffs of white exploded from her cold lips as she sighed. That’s all she needed. To get lost in the yard because she couldn’t find her way back.

  She glanced around. She couldn’t see the other buildings she knew were there or the vehicles parked near the main building just a few feet from where she stood. She couldn’t see a damn thing, and to wander away from the resort was the most foolish thing she could have done.

  Shaking her head in disgust at herself, she walked back, her legs aching from the thigh high snow she trekked through.