The Best Of The Year - Medical Romance. Carol Marinelli
pretty obvious it hadn’t been to meet up with him or anything. She was worried about something over on that hill. Enough to want whoever was on the other end of that line to call her father and ask him to come back to the resort.
But his veiled accusation didn’t go unnoticed. Her eyes chilled. “What I do or don’t do is none of your business.”
Okay, that had backfired. He’d hoped she’d give him a hint as to why she’d suddenly changed course, going from flirty to worried to angry in the space of a few minutes.
He touched her hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I was digging for information, actually.”
A thin layer of snow now covered the cute pink cap on her head and dotted her lashes. She smiled. “Okay, in case you’re wondering—or even if you’re not—I’m not going to get back together with my ex. Not now. Not ever. But I need to check something out, and I don’t really want an inexperienced skier on any of those harder slopes.”
“The ones closer to the mine.”
She nodded. “The snow looks like it’s moved, to me, shifted downward since our ride the other night.”
“I heard you mention that, but what does it mean?”
“We got some snow last night. And we’re due for more tonight. Not a ton, but enough to add more weight to the already thick layer. If it slides any further there could be trouble.”
He brushed a couple of flakes of snow off her nose with a gloved fingertip. Her cheeks were pink with cold, as was her nose, and she looked pretty damned adorable right now. In spite of her worried frown.
The thunder rolled again, and Mira immediately jerked around to the side and stared at the mine, where, sure enough, another puff of white erupted into the air. Not smoke. Snow. Just like when Mira’s ex had sent a burst of it shooting toward him. Once disturbed, the finer stuff drifted into the air, while the heavier stuff had hit him and then fallen to the ski slope, where it had slipped downhill a few feet. Then it had rolled to a stop.
So if the puffs he saw over by the mine were snow vapor, then something was disturbing it. But what?
At that second the rumbling started up again, this time growing in volume. He vaguely heard Mira’s “Oh, my God!” before what seemed like half the mountain began to move, sliding downward, giant plumes of vapor rising into the air. And below the action—on another set of slopes—was a group of about twenty skiers.
He finally understood what Mira was panicking about, his own chest tightening and his breathing shooting through the roof in response to what he was currently witnessing.
Because, like a tsunami that churned its way toward shore, an avalanche was slowly building up momentum. And it was headed right for that unsuspecting group.
“STAY HERE.” MIRA’S only thought, once the rumbling stopped, was getting over to the site and helping get those people out.
One second skiers had been whizzing down the side of the mountain, and the next about seven people had been flattened by a crush of snow. The rest of the group had successfully outraced the front edge of the avalanche, joining those near the bottom of the slope who’d escaped unharmed. A few of them were trying to climb back up the steep hill to get to their companions. But who knew if or when the snow would shift again?
“I’m going with you.”
“Jack, those slopes are very different from the one we’re on now. I don’t want to have to worry about you too.”
“You won’t have to.” He motioned to the bottom of the hill. “I’ll ski the rest of the way down and walk over. I’ve done some rock-climbing. I’ll make my way back up. You can’t handle that many injuries on your own.”
He was right. Until help arrived, she was going to have her hands full.
“Okay, go.”
He started down the hill, while Mira made the call to the office. They would already know about the avalanche, but she wanted to make sure they knew the numbers. When Chuck Miller answered, she was brief and to the point. “About seven skiers buried. Call in search and rescue. Tell them to get Anson Graves and his dog up here, just in case.”
She’d worked with the search and rescue expert before. He was the best there was. She only hoped he could get here in time.
Pushing off with her poles, she began to quickly make her way across the slope in sweeping lateral motions—like a sailboat that had to go against the wind. She used the downward momentum to drive her to the side. The off-piste areas were more challenging, but Mira had been on the slopes all her life. They were nothing she hadn’t done before. It wasn’t normally under these kinds of circumstances, though.
One of her skis skated over a buried rock, and she lurched sideways before correcting herself, her heart loping across her chest for a few seconds. In the silence that followed the avalanche she could now hear muffled screams of those on the affected slope, as well as cries of dismay from other nearby skiers. Her ex caught up with her halfway to the site.
“What can I do?”
This wasn’t the time for a war of words or anything else, and they both knew it. She needed as much help right now as she could get. “Gather up some of the other instructors and send them over to the slope. We have to see if we can get those people out, and fast.” If the avalanche victims weren’t rescued almost immediately, they’d die.
“On it.” He didn’t question her authority, just thumbed his phone and spoke to someone, before starting back down the slope with a quick salute.
Her glance went back to Jack. He was already at the bottom and had his skis off, leaving them where they were while he sprinted toward the other slope in his heavy boots.
Mira skied faster, taking a group of moguls in her stride as she stayed the course.
She glanced at her watch, keeping track of time as she knew oxygen deprivation caused by suffocation was a very real concern for avalanche victims, although the cold was one thing in their favor in that respect.
Two minutes. One more off-piste and she’d be there.
She took a deep breath as she ventured off the groomed slopes and onto the rugged terrain that separated her from her patients. This was one of the most challenging off-piste sections on the resort, and she’d only attempted it a couple of times. It was also one of the reasons she’d insisted that Jack not follow her across. She couldn’t concentrate on getting to where she needed to be if she had to rescue Jack from a bad spill or crash.
She bypassed one tree, only to whizz past another so close that a branch caught at the sleeve of her jacket. She had to jerk her arm free to avoid being dragged sideways and off her feet. The sound of ripping fabric told her it had worked.
A few more yards of bumps and swerves as she made her way across, and then she came out of it, sailing onto the much smoother section to her left. The slope was steep and slick and it still took most of her concentration to navigate around unstable clumps of snow. Keeping her gaze focused on where she’d seen the small group of people go down, she sliced to a halt when her skis bogged down in a thicker drift. A few skiers had made it back up and were out of their skis, poking their poles into the snow. One person was digging about ten yards away.
“Found someone here,” said the man closest to her.
Mira clicked out of her skis and slogged several yards in snow up to her thighs before dropping to her knees beside the man.
“Try to uncover the face first,” she directed.
She immediately joined in scooping snow, hitting a jacket a few inches down. A black zipper ran down the middle of it. Thank God the person wasn’t face down. They quickly worked their way up and found a young woman. Mira leaned down to feel her pulse and listen for signs